So I`ve had some success. On the advice of my damon, I finished up the draft of a New York Times Op Ed, submitted it. And from what they tell me , it`s going to be published in a couple of weeks.
This is good news, but I`ve learned to always be a little circumspect when I hit another level of my writing career. It`s easier to stand during a stagnant period, than a busy one. A little bit of success, and the next thing I know I`m being driven by all kinds of desires and aversions that derail me. I don`t want to lose the vitality I`ve developed in the last few months.
Especially when I`m experiencing success, I need to keep to at least an hour of meditation.
One thing that might be worth trying is tracking all my practices with my Insight timer. Right now I`m clocking a daily average of 98 minutes. If I clock the time I spend in formal mediation, but also put in writing and cleaning. I should be getting closer to four hours. If I bring awareness into what I do, success is inevitable.
I agree with ET that you cannot become successful. You can only be successful.
Bring high quality attention to most of what you do, and the odds of achieving wordly success are good. But so what. The pleasures of high quality attention is a reward in itself.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Monday, November 11, 2013
Psychic Body
I've had an interesting insight in the last week. For many years I've felt this magnetic energy rise in me whenever I've maintained a one hour standing practice for a sustained time. I always thought that this magnetic energy was a pleasant end point to my practice. Only recently have I considered the possibility that this feeling is a different kind of block.
The magnetic energy now feels more like a remnant of a more stressful energy, in my forehead, in my chest. Once it dissolves I feel a warm, liquid wet feeling more frequently. It's a wonderful feeling, but it doesn't really make me want to write. Words feel so solid now.
Another cool thing that's been happening is that I feel this sort of empty body. Like the magnetic force field of a body, that I find I can almost detach from. Like my physical body can detach from the magnetic traces of this other body.
I know that sounds a little garbled. But it's like there's this still Juliet, who is present, but not in skin and bones. But skin and bones Juliet can move around and leave still magnetic energy Juliet in place. This feeling of disassociation is a pleasant feeling. Nothing scary really. I can fit my physical body back into my psychic body and it feels stable and peaceful.
For lack of a better term right now. I'm going to call this my psychic body.
The magnetic energy now feels more like a remnant of a more stressful energy, in my forehead, in my chest. Once it dissolves I feel a warm, liquid wet feeling more frequently. It's a wonderful feeling, but it doesn't really make me want to write. Words feel so solid now.
Another cool thing that's been happening is that I feel this sort of empty body. Like the magnetic force field of a body, that I find I can almost detach from. Like my physical body can detach from the magnetic traces of this other body.
I know that sounds a little garbled. But it's like there's this still Juliet, who is present, but not in skin and bones. But skin and bones Juliet can move around and leave still magnetic energy Juliet in place. This feeling of disassociation is a pleasant feeling. Nothing scary really. I can fit my physical body back into my psychic body and it feels stable and peaceful.
For lack of a better term right now. I'm going to call this my psychic body.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Tough with myself
A week of two steps forward, one step back.
My daimon is more a flickering presence in my life than it was a few days back. Maybe because I've been disregarding his advice and peeking at television. Ah, The Good Wife. Such sweet trangression.
But seriously. I don't want to keep drifting back into bad patterns. I want to really cultivate this daimon and achieve my dreams of happiness. I have a son and he needs to know that happiness is possible.
My first psychotherapist once brought my attention to the difference of being tough on ourself and tough with ourself. When I think of what tough with myself means, it means that I need to be truly willing to see reality. And then once I've achieved that willingness, I need to want to see it. And I need to prepare myself for the inevitability of some pain and change along the way as I see that reality.
For instance. I need to get more sleep. I'm in a bad cycle that impacts my creativity, energy, happiness hugely. But for some reason I don't want to look at that. For one thing, because to get a good sleep I need to probably go to sleep before Ben. That's going to mean a change of routine. Probably some arguing. And then I may end up giving in.
That routine needs to change. There's no point beating myself up about it. But to really make that change, there's going to be some difficulty. There's going to be some nights where I'm not actually able to get to sleep that early. There are going to be some nights where I have to sit with my financial anxieties. But they are made worse by lack of sleep.
So, how do I start to change this routine in a way that is tough with myself, but not tough on myself? I need a nurturing voice that is also able to tell me what I need to hear. Compassionate, but also tough. Something that says, yes you have natural intelligence, openness and spirit, but you can't let television and poor sleeping patterns muck with that. You can't because the consequences are incremental and really serious over time.
Tonight is Daylight savings time, a return of the clock back an hour. It's a good night to start this because Ben will actually be more primed for an earlier bedtime. And maybe I can sneak a half hour of meditation in in the morning.
My daimon is more a flickering presence in my life than it was a few days back. Maybe because I've been disregarding his advice and peeking at television. Ah, The Good Wife. Such sweet trangression.
But seriously. I don't want to keep drifting back into bad patterns. I want to really cultivate this daimon and achieve my dreams of happiness. I have a son and he needs to know that happiness is possible.
My first psychotherapist once brought my attention to the difference of being tough on ourself and tough with ourself. When I think of what tough with myself means, it means that I need to be truly willing to see reality. And then once I've achieved that willingness, I need to want to see it. And I need to prepare myself for the inevitability of some pain and change along the way as I see that reality.
For instance. I need to get more sleep. I'm in a bad cycle that impacts my creativity, energy, happiness hugely. But for some reason I don't want to look at that. For one thing, because to get a good sleep I need to probably go to sleep before Ben. That's going to mean a change of routine. Probably some arguing. And then I may end up giving in.
That routine needs to change. There's no point beating myself up about it. But to really make that change, there's going to be some difficulty. There's going to be some nights where I'm not actually able to get to sleep that early. There are going to be some nights where I have to sit with my financial anxieties. But they are made worse by lack of sleep.
So, how do I start to change this routine in a way that is tough with myself, but not tough on myself? I need a nurturing voice that is also able to tell me what I need to hear. Compassionate, but also tough. Something that says, yes you have natural intelligence, openness and spirit, but you can't let television and poor sleeping patterns muck with that. You can't because the consequences are incremental and really serious over time.
Tonight is Daylight savings time, a return of the clock back an hour. It's a good night to start this because Ben will actually be more primed for an earlier bedtime. And maybe I can sneak a half hour of meditation in in the morning.
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