I do feel a little discouraged. Maybe its the weather, which has covered the sky in tones more or less the same as this photograph for about half of the last 30 days. But sunny days can be the worst, and some of you know what I mean. In my favorite book on mindfulness for depression, the authors even give the example of how thinking you should be enjoying a sunny day just makes your mood even darker. Duh.
Recently I was obsessing about whether or not to go to the thrift store, or just stay home and keep cleaning. (I imagine this is what I was thinking. This is usually what I am thinking, any given Sunday, so its a safe bet.) After a teetering for quite a while on a painfully stark precipice of unhappy options, I realized that truly, I was very uncomfortable either way. I mean, really, my anxious anticipation was equal, no matter what I chose. And that is the meditator’s conundrum – my own unhappiness is infinitely morphing, and thanks to meditating, this fact now pops up inconveniently, when all I really want to do is avoid my feelings. Shit.
I wish I could say that in response to my anxiety, I got out my camera and took this picture, but I honestly don’t remember. Let’s say I did, though. I think it feels about right. You look down at your feet and realize there isn’t much room to move or the way forward seems blocked. You can’t step backwards, time won’t allow it. Then you notice the pool of light on the ground, and see your toes, and the flowers, and quietly, things change, loosening up just a little bit. You, included.