Wondrous sitting,
Breathing exciting,
Jumping around
And off and on
But pleasant peace,
That was until
The mind began flitting about,
On its own errands;
Counting the breaths
Pulled the attention
Away from jittery thoughts,
Which faded into the background,
Being with the breath,
It suddenly occurred to me
That I’m always with it,
For how else could I be?
Then all was just one experience,
All the senses working together,
A seamless happening
With no distractions,
Hearing the fan going and other sounds,
The thoughts arising and passing,
The sensations of sciatica,
Back pain and comfort united as one,
A sense of pleasant
And a thought,
‘This is a pleasant sitting,’
Into which attention fell for a time,
Then soon ‘twas the end
Of this particular mindfulness mission
And now to stow the cushions
And prepare for bed.
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Thursday, March 24, 2011
Domesticate: Homing In
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