Vipassana Meditation Day 60

Two months into home practice. Mind. Body. Sensations. Reactions.

The key is to sit down before getting involved in other activities. If other activities begin, the habit of avoidance kicks in and the momentum is so strong. Of course, it is still possible to stop but I’m looking at the path of least effort and still maintain discipline. Discipline needs no effort. So I woke at seven, got up, brushed my teeth, splashed some water about then sat down. What could be simpler? Except: Terrified. The terror of yesterday that I kept at bay through occupation right there in my heart. Okay. It’s okay. Settling into my seat, I noticed my breath. Good old breath, always new. Moving awareness over the body I noticed the sensations and reactions in each part. After a careful down and up journey, the strongest sensation was still the terror, perhaps unsurprisingly, so I drew nearer, noticing any reactions to flee or try to force some kind of change. Nausea, and a hive of activity in there, energy buzzing in such conentration in the centre of the chest, heart, solar plexus, upper belly. Is this fear itself? What is it without the mind’s response of labelling and reacting and pretending it knows all about it? Whatever it is (if it is an ‘it’ at all) it’s been around for a long long time. I don’t recall life without it. I’ve learnt to manage it, keep it in it’s place, lock it down, or let it express within confined groves, but I have never understood it. This sensation is why I have been afraid to sit still without occupation, ever since I heard of such a thing. In my later twenties at the yoga ashram, the meditation sessions were largely avoided. In yoga, a brief spell of stillness only, and still ignoring it. In yoga nidra or other relaxation, staying in the head apart from superficial tours. Stay in the head at all costs. And now I am not; I’m in a practice that doesn’t allow it. Otherwise, I know it is perfectly possible to avoid sensation one’s whole life. I’ve done it all these years and I know how to continue to. This is about unknowing. And listening. And patience. And life itself.