Give me a Quiet Mind

In an attempt to tame my monkey mind (that's what the Buddhists call the mind that cannot stay still) I attended a guided meditation session yesterday afternoon. A meditation session led by a monk! I had expectations for the class, like being able to tune out everything in my mind and just being in the moment even when  there is so much going on around me. But the monk lowered the expectation for me when he said that it takes practice and patience and time.

I have a problem getting my mind to stay still. Someone that I used to know used to find this hard to believe because on the outside I am this cool, calm and collected being, someone who can sit still for long periods of time and only get up when it's absolutely necessary. Also I am not shy, but I only talk when I have something to say, which, come to think of it, is a lot especially with people that I know. But I am also comfortable letting other people around me talk without feeling the need to say anything. These are the times when whatever is being talked about does not concern me at all, or I don't really care about the subject, in which case my silence communicates just that. I believe in voicing my opinion and I do have opinions on everything. I have talked about marrying the person who can quiet my mind, but I now see how heavy such a burden is to load on a person I purport to share my life with, oh and the impossibility of it all!

Anyway, my calm exterior betrays my internal meanderings. Hundreds of thoughts bombard me from every possible  direction,  each thought demanding my absolute attention. Which I give for a few seconds and before I come to a conclusion, another thought demands my time. Of course, there are moments when my mind is still, but this is when I am on my yoga mat but still these moments require my attention in form of my muscles burning and pulling. So yesterday, with the monk guiding my meditation, I sat still for a prolonged period of time. Of course, there were a few times that my mind would wander and I tried to put it to focus. I was shocked when I realised the meditation was forty(!) minutes long, because it felt like ten. People talked about seeing colours, imagining the sun or the moon above their heads and then floating inside them. I didn't feel any of that. What I felt was a few moments, because I am quite sure they were a few seconds, of stillness. No colours, no moon, no sun, not the voice of the monk, not the mantra that I was repeating.

I left there wanting to relieve that feeling. But I got into a noisy matatu, talked to a friend over coffee then went to watch a film then back to a noisy matatu. I wanted to relieve it today, and in yoga class during shavasana, that moment totally eluded me. The rest of the day hasn't been any different from yesterday. Oh, but how I want to quiet everything down even for a little while.

The title of this post is from the song A Quiet Mind by Blue October.

I've Closed Enough Windows to Know you can Never Look Back

It is the beginning of the year, that time when people make resolutions to change their lives. I think hate is a pretty strong word but I very much dislike beginnings. This strong dislike is probably because beginnings are usually preceded by anticipation which leads to expectations and when my expectations are not met then I get disappointed. Plant an expectation and you are sure to reap a disappointment, so the cliché goes. Having been perpetually disappointed, beginnings have become something that I don't look forward to, something that I dread. I prefer a seamless transition of things with no clearcut markings of the beginning or the ending. I like a continuous flow of events where one activity leads to another which leads to another which leads to... 

But beginnings and endings are inevitable, it is but the nature of things. The law of evolution, therefore, dictates that I have to adapt or be miserable. So I wonder, is it a little immature for me to hope for the wonderful gift of foresight this year? Is it wishful thinking to hope that the world will bend to my whims this year? Is it disengaging from reality to hope that my expectations (because God knows I can't help but have them) will be met?

I am good at introspection. Sitting at the end of each day to record my reflections. I always look back with 20-20 hindsight at the things that I did and what probably motivated my decisions or choices. Hindsight at the end of the year is at its best. I am unflinchingly honest with my reflections, because I am aware of how subjective memory is and so in an effort to be objective sometimes I berate myself for the things that I did. It is said that history always has a point of view,  and there is no exception with my past; I judge myself harshly, too harshly. I want something different this year. To look forward, to think long and hard before making life changing decisions in which future retrospection will reveal an evidence of good judgement. To have a future illuminated by foresight.

The title of this post is from the song Carry On by Fun.