Last night I finally caught up with my friend Vidal. We went to our favorite convo spot (Chenoy's Deli, open all night) and had a 5 hour session. He told me such a good story about mindfulness.
Earlier this year he went a silent retreat in Thailand (?I think)--no talking for the week. Just meditating, and listening to teachers.
At the end of the first full day he was walking the dusty trail back to his room, with just a head lamp to light the way. He was thinking about how great the day had gone--how good he was at this! Self-congratulatory pats on the back about how easily he'd taken to meditating, how great he was at this mindfulness stuff.
At which point he slammed his toe into a root. Gushing blood. Splinters he was still picking out of his toe for the remainder of the week. His trip would have ended then and there had it not been for a fellow retreat-er who gave him antiseptic powder. (This is a *thing* -- a thing you need in humid climates. Liquid antiseptic doesn't work well.)
Vidal and I both struggle with remembering our meditative practice. What I love about this story (besides the inherent Pride Goeth Before the Fall humor) is what a great reminder-analogy it is. How many roots am I mentally/spiritually slamming my toes into, and injuring myself, every day? Because I forget to grab just a few minutes of meditation, or practice a few minutes of mindfulness? By too much worry about the future, too much focus on the past, what kind of injury am I doing to myself?
P.S. Nice post-script to the story. The Swiss Guy who gave Vidal the powder was this free-spirited uber traveler, who found the silent retreat very inhibiting of his Le Free Spirit. He felt so much better when (at the end of the retreat) Vidal thanked him for saving his whole experience.
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SONG OF THE DAY
Nettles covering Bob Seger. Best song about being young.
1 comment:
Ouch! Imaging having to hold in all that cussing and swearing!
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