Morning Sitting

I am fragmented; all in pieces.  It's so noisy inside.  What's my head, my emotions, my sensations are in chaos, jumbled.  Everything is racing as if there's some emergency.  Just getting enough quiet space inside to even begin to get a sense of myself in the present time and space is an effort.  Yet, I'm able, to some degree to let this be and try to watch.  So much going on and none of it seeming to go anywhere.  I do what I can to practice, to make the effort, losing my place, forgetting where I started, where I left off.

T T T

I was given a book, in passing, actually, because I'd been seen to be interested in a type of interest.  It was the beginning, in a sense.  In fact, I'd been searching for a long, long time.  I'd explored many philosophies, many practices.  But, this book pointed to something I'd been looking for, something I'd hoped for.

I'm lazy.  I dream of great possibilities.  I've been blessed with a decent intellect and excellent health.  I've been fortunate, in life, in having been able to accomplish a few things without a lot of effort.  I've been with this "study", this practice, this way - on and off - for a long time.  Admittedly, more off than on.

I read other things from time to time.  I hear people speaking of other paths, other practices, from time to time.  I can't imagine, or entertain the idea of, trying something else.  I haven't even really begun this yet.  I'm just beginning to put my toe in the water with this.  My efforts are small, my attention weak.  There's no point in looking elsewhere when I've barely begun this.  This is what some part of me, central to who I am,needs.