I don't want to meditate. To do so, I must slow down. To stop. To be still.
It is my highest vision. Yet the child in me wants to continue to play.
The ego mind wants to continue its endless dialog.
Ideas spring forth which call for thought and concentration,
contemplation, and sometimes the pen.
The desire to do something other than sit masks the fear of looking at what lies beneath.
The restlessness lets me know that something is stirring.
But I fight it.
I repeat my mantra as I go about daily tasks
And more loudly when catastrophic and scary thoughts present themselves.
As I drive, I say my mantra for strangers I see while passing.
in Elevators and waiting in line.
Silently I say it when I hear of someone's sorrow and of someone in need of love.
Still avoiding sitting, I notice beautiful small things as I pass by.
A flower growing from a crack in cement of the sidewalk.
The brilliant colors of the traffic signal.
The beauty of the people in multiracial LA.
The Green of my carpet.
The sound of the Ocean. The song of birds
The smile on the face of my Spiritual Mother seen in framed pictures
which are scattered all around our home.
But still I don't sit.
Yet, Happy I am in this moment.
I don't sit.
Yet none-the-less
I feel the love of God permeating my soul.