Circuitous Recipe: Well Cooked

Being present for
Everything present,
Then attention to
The body.

Strong emotions
Agitating thoughts,
Like the stirring of ingredients
In a mixing bowl.

Rough day
All whipped up,
But rested in acceptance of
The way things were.

Such a struggle,
Up and down,
Layers of acceptance
And resistance,

Passing through them,
Alternating light and dark
Like a multi-layer cake
Baking in the oven,

So hot,
So energetic,
But expanding slowly
In a stately fashion.

No frosting here,
Just plain and simple,
One layer at a time
Happening all at once.

Awareness floats through it
Level by level,
Then the meditation is done,
And the results are left to cool
Until the next sitting.

Circuit: Resting in Chaos

When havoc sends me reeling
Peace comes from
Fully being in turmoil,
Resting in what’s happening
Even if what’s happening
Is unpleasant.

From there
Anything is possible,
The infinite potential of
The moment
Is close at hand,
Fully present.

Confidence comes from
Here,
Even when
I can not
Yet see it,
Everything settles in.

From possibility
Arises reality,
From reality,
Possibility,
In a closed circuit,
Nevertheless infinite.

It never makes sense,
Nor nonsense,
Static flow,
But dynamic
Frozen,
Nonetheless fluid.

Circle: Back to Back

When I signed up for the meditation course for the first time, I knew that, in a way I was reaching out from my ‘mountain hermitage,’ like a wounded bear that had retreated to the den to recover. I am not sure what I wanted or expected, but that teacher sure shook the mountain. Nevertheless, after careful consideration, I decided to come back for a second round, and I was not disappointed. This sort of thing may not be for everyone, however, so I caution my readers—take care, before you embark on this journey.

Be sure you have your safety straps well fastened before you go. I had few moorings to hold me, and I practically fell off the mountain myself, but I still think the time was right; I’d waited as long as I could, and best of all felt as if I had no place else to go, which is the only reason I can think of why I would have gotten into this. For, as I explained in the first place—I was merely looking for a way to get through the day without screaming. Now I think screaming can be good sometimes; it can even be productive, if you are paying attention, and even if you’re not. That is the paradox of practice.