Watermelon Meditation

I often notice that my life unfolds in cyclical patterns. My ability to concentrate, the attention I pay to the present moment, the sense of appreciation I have for being alive-- all these come and go, ebbing and flowing in cycles. Sometimes I am swept up in a current of energy and lose control of life. Sometimes I find myself mired in thoughts of longing and discontent. Sometimes I wake up and my breath is right there at the tip of nose, my mind is clear, colors are vivid but my eyes are soft, my shoulders are relaxed, and a smile comes to my face-- this is how I want to live. When I wake up like this I wish that all people could be happy, healthy, and at peace.

Most of my thoughts are pretty useless. More than useless, even-- the way I react to them causes suffering. But I find when I remember to come back to the breath, during class, walking on the sidewalk, standing on a crowded bus, typing at the computer or any other moment of the day, I realize the futility of thinking in endless circles, mulling over the same few stories. Then I laugh at myself, or perhaps with myself, and smile. (breath)

From time to time, it can be useful to step back and take a look at what thoughts float around in my brain. I often think about what I'm going to do next. Or what I'm going to write next. This sort of thinking doesn't really create more suffering for me; in fact, it seems to a natural and necessary part of the beauty of human lucidity. But when I get annoyed at my own thinking, the annoyance is extra. Or when I get attached to particular thought, that cycle of thinking does not foster happiness. Thoughts by themselves come and go. I find that if a thought is really important, it will translate into action quickly. Thoughts that I tend to dwell produce a tangled web of thoughts from which it is easy for me to lose a sense of well-being. Whoa! That was confusing to write about! (breath) Maybe I don't understand my mind at all.

Now, I appreciate being able to think; I appreciate my thoughts. But I do find it wonderful to be able to step back from my own thinking and return to what it actually happening. (breath)

Perhaps what I'm writing makes no sense. But the real point is that I feel that I have been away for a long time, maybe since August, maybe for my whole life, maybe for a very, very long time. I've certainly been going to school, enjoying the people around me, laughing, playing music, singing, and other things, but I do not feel like I have been here, in touch my the inklings in my heart, with my deepest intention. I want to come back. I want to return, to be alive, awake in each moment.

I don't really have any regrets about how I have been living, however. My teachers--humans, animals, plants-- always inspire me to live more truly to what the heart says. I endeavor to spend more time with trees and flowers, more time breathing with the wind, walking with the sky. When I say "more time," I don't mean more actual time, as the clock tells it, but more "real" time, time spent in touch with reality. (breath)

But my life so often seems to go in cycles. For a while, I feel in touch with the world, in touch with the miracle of life. But then I forget, and I suffer, not on the outside, where I am almost always enjoying myself and other people, but on the inside, where I notice my spiritual energy waning, where I notice my attention fading. This kind of suffering is not really a big deal-- it is not physical suffering, it is not emotional suffering. But it seems it might be at the root of both. This suffering is like a vague sense of discontent, of loneliness, of restlessness. When I become aware of this deep level of suffering, I feel motivated to return to its source and discover the cause. I don't know what the cause is. But I wake up from my thinking and tune into this suffering.

If it is such a gift to be alive, why are we not happy all the time?

Watermelon!
Watermelon!
(To feel better, visualize a watermelon. Watermelons are really big!)

Maybe happy is not the right word. Why are we not at peace?

(breath)