A couple of hours ago I sat down to relax and to see (more clearly the truth of my current situation) and what I saw after 2 hours of squirming and restlessly turning was that what, in effect, I sat down with was an agenda to see. It took me around 2 hours to opt for the truth over the self-induced fit of confusion and frustration. My mind kept flashing images from the past and the potential future to which my body responded in kind and the I felt eager to go into the texture of these sensations to let them resolve themselves. I wanted to spend the time productively and do some healing. Yet again, I sat down to resolve and transcend the internal mess that defines feeble, fallible me. In other words, I didn’t sit down to relax initially, I sat down to struggle rather. Much like in writing these posts where usually there is a hidden agenda that sparks the intent to engage in articulating them—namely the agenda to get past and transcend the weaker version of myself by sharing and thus taking ownership of it—more often than not meditation is abused to the same narcissistic end.
/I wonder, though, if I am still around and decided on a whim to reread these posts in 10+ years from now how will I relate to them? Will I feel embarrassed? Or amused? Or fascinated? Or puzzled? I have no idea. Probably, for better or for worse, I’ll have much less free time on my hands to indulge in chasing my elusive tail like this. Probably the concept of ’transcending me mess’ won’t make much sense either by that time. Who knows. I’ll report back, I guess. But then, all I’m doing here is playing the game of the truth and this is where it’s at right now.