A digest for conscious living
It has been two weeks since the last time I made an entry. It quickly became apparent that in order to have the time and privacy to write a blog entry while staying at my wife’s parent’s house I would have to make a concerted effort to insulate myself on a daily basis from certain activities and family dynamics that I travelled to Iceland to be a part of. Rather than impose my will on the circumstances I opted to take a break from writing entries in order to be able to fully take part in the experience of our visit.
Although I did manage to fit in a few sessions of meditation, the past two weeks have also marked the period of least formal practice since I began writing my Lucid Living entries. It has been very interesting to take a break from meditation. I feel as if I have learned as much during this time as I have during any other period. Lucid Living means always learning as much from my circumstances and condition as I can. It is not a commentary or a judgement on the state of my mind or my circumstances. It is more the awareness and experience of these in the most integral and uncorrupted way that I can.
Of course I was happy to get back to my Practice this morning and experience the clarity and joy of my session. It is however important to remember that true practice does not begin and end on the meditation cushion. It is a state of mind that I can bring with me into every situation. It is the recognition of the fact that my state of mind and my emotions are an integral part of the circumstance and company in which I find myself and must be thus observed and appreciated without judgement.
I realized over the past two weeks that although there is no substitute for the piercing purity of still silent meditation, the residual essence of this state can be carried with me for long periods even when I am not formally meditating. It creates a feeling of gratitude for this experience- regardless of what is happening, I can be aware and appreciative that I am experiencing consciousness.
Goodnight,
Kikta