It asked: why are you doing this? Is this not a total waste of your time? Are there not many other things you could and should be doing? You could, for example, be reading the New York Sunday Times. You could be taking another hour in bed. You should be writing your blog, or outside in the back yard, changing the water in the fountain. (It got soapy yesterday, with cleanser dripping down from the balcony above, where the outside furniture was being given a wash. This morning, it's filled with foam.) So many things you could be doing with this time...
And yet... the choice is made. The commitment, really. And I learned long ago that Why? is the least useful of questions, one that takes me straight from my heart to my head, usually without productive results. I suppose I could come up with reasons for doing this. It clears out the mind, relaxes the body, gets me out of my head and into the here and now. It refreshes. It enriches my life, expands my view of the world, prepares me for life's end...
And, having stuck with my meditation through those initial doubts, I ended up with the realization that there are few, if any more pleasant ways to spend the time than in silent concentration on the breath; that what results is a quiet kind of joy, a distance from all those things that (still!) need to be done, a serenity that I can find in no other way. And the modest wisdom that realization represents.
Metta to all! And a happy and restful Memorial Day!
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