You'd think as I cultivate insight I would want to write more. But I don't. Maybe it's because insight practice moves you beyond concepts and writing is so conceptual.
Of course, writing doesn't have to be conceptual. And the best writing usually isn't. So maybe that will change as I settle more regularly into that place of clarity.
Woke up this morning at 4:30 and just sat in feelings of aversion, loathing, hatred. Much bringing this on. A mostly miserable evening at my parents, which I probably contributed towards somewhat. I was supposed to show up for jury duty on Monday. Relieved to discover I didn't. Then found out that the reason the trial had been cancelled was because the court system was so backed up that the supreme court forced them to let go of the accused. He had been in jail for almost five years. Too long, obviously. But the case against him was strong. He had spent time in prison twice for spousal abuse and was on trial for slitting his 21 year old wife's throat. It has hit me this morning how much work there is to do to make the world more livable for so many people who are suffering.
I've been sitting in aversion and grief and some sadness. The sadness feels good. I don't feel it enough. But sadness is an essential ingredient of insight. Without it are you really aware of the impermanence of life?
That said I don't want to feast on death. I'm a human, not a crow.
