I meditated this morning. It's been a while. I went on a meditation retreat a few weeks ago, but other than that, it's been a while since I sat down and meditated. I like to do it in the morning after I shower, but lately sleep has won out. I fell asleep fairly early last night and was wide awake at 5:45. So I meditated.
One of the things that I like about meditation is that if you are failing at it, you can still be doing it right. The idea is that you sit still and empty your mind of all thoughts. You leave the past in the past and the future in the future and you focus on your body and breathing here and now. It usually takes me a while to completely quiet my mind. It's hard to not think about anything at all. We're all so addicted to thinking. The meditating can still be a useful exercise though, when I pay attention to what the tentacles of my mind are grasping at. When I sit still and manage to clear my mind for a minute or two, what bubbles up? What do my grasping mind tentacles tell me about myself?
Also, I have a boyfriend. It just kind of happened fairly unexpectedly. I've known of him for at least a couple of years, but we came in contact again in October, the month in which we were both born. It was one of those things where circumstances allowed both of us to see each other in a different light. The development of the relationship has been about as easy as walking into a gorgeous, dimly lit room. You just walk in and have a vague sense that there's something beautiful about the room and it's confirmed as the sun gradually rises and light floods the room and you are somehow both surprised and not surprised to realize how beautiful and comfortable it is. Like the curling-up-on-the-couch-together-on-a-Sunday-evening-eating-delicious-Valentine's-popcorn-and-watching-Downton-Abbey kind of beautiful and comfortable. That's me and Ryan.