Going Slow

I am not used to these four day "weekends" that I have recently acquired. I thought it was Sunday THREE DAYS IN A ROW. I have so much more time on my hands, I feel myself rebelling. I get things done quickly, and so I started procrastinating on other things to get done, so I am squeezing them into the metaphorical cracks. In any case, I liked coming into work today feeling ready to work. This balance of more me, less job is good, I think.

So last night I went to my first meditation class. This is something I've been meaning to do for about a year. My shrink recommended it, which made me think, if SHE thinks I need help, I better get it! Turns out meditation is REALLY HARD. It's a physical act and when you sit there, your mind becomes unvelied--or unraveled, as it happens, with me. I know that I can be a THINKER. I can THINK all the live long day. It's a hobby. That, and yearning. Once I settled into the position and began meditating, it was like my mind became a caged raccoon. Have you ever cornered a raccoon? They look so docile until they feel trapped--then they turn into writhing, raviged beasts. It was scary to sit there and watch as my mind did flips and panicked under so much quiet. It screamed at me: My back hurts! No time has passed at all! You're going to hyperventalate! Then it rolled movies at me, of scenerios that either have happened or I am afraid will happen. ANYTHING to stop the simple counting of my breath.

My friend Nate goes all the time and even just spent a retreat of meditation and silence. He asked before we went in if I wanted to stay through all three sessions. On the way up the elevator, I was like OH YEAH, OF COURSE. I might as well do it all! After the first session was spent getting instruction, I only made it through the second session--by the skin of my breath!
Afterwords, Howard, my instructor, asked me how it went. I said, "It's HARD!" To which he smiled and said, "Yes it is." Then he told me I was lucky--because some people find it easy right away and then feel SCREWED when it gets tough later.

When I left the zen center, I noticed immediately how tired I was, and how SLOW I felt like going. Outside, the New York streets were crazy with activity and rushing. Normally, I fling myself into it, cursing the slow pokes, as I rush by. Not this time. I moved slowly and carefully. I heard the train coming and instead of running to catch it, I let it go. My body had weight to it. When I got home, I got into bed, and I haven't slept so well in ages. I think this mind slowing thing might have something to it after all.