Post Meditation Journal Entry # 13

12/25/2017 6:24 am – 6:39 am

Many positive thoughts for this sit. Every now and then I’d feel a joyful feeling and see someone smiling at me. I can’t tell if I saw the smiling person first and then felt the joyful feeling or felt the joyful feeling and then saw the image of the smiling person . But again, I struggled with the whole thinking about thinking thing on-and-off, I follow out long strands of chain-linked thoughts and for almost an entire minute just think and think and think. When I meditate in group, it seems as though everyone else is doing it correctly and is just comfortable sitting, but I keep wanting to tend to my thoughts. But as I’ve been told that is part of meditation, living with the things that you only believe that you can control.

I count every breath now from 1 to 20 then start over again. I use it as sort of a training wheel until I can focus without it. I’ve asked myself if counting really does work or if it’s obstructive, but it’s allowed me to have some successes in concentrating and manifesting positive thoughts.

I felt a surge of creative energy this sit. I felt that I could tackle a project of mine with enthusiasm. As though if I fail it will not matter, journey-is-the-goal type of stuff. Beautiful.

I will end this entry on dreams. I had a few nightmares last night. The first dream, I was in my childhood home in the second floor back window (the bathroom). It was dark outside and teenagers were trying to attack the house by throwing stuff at it. I made an attempt to throw stuff back at them with my father. My father sort of lost interest, but I was intent on calling 911 for some feeling of safety. I was really scared. I fussed with the phone, trying to call, but for some reason I can never make phone calls or mess with numbers in dreams.

The second dream involved sort of a heavy guy on a wheel chair that wanted my undivided attention. He grabbed my arm and wrapped it around him and talked nice to me but there was a dark undertone about it. I attempted to leave and he became ugly and nasty and started chasing me on his wheelchair. I couldn’t get away fast enough.

Last night’s nightmare, this morning’s awakening. I still believe there is a balance of energy to the mind not unlike the physical forces of the universe.

Post-Meditation Journal Entry # 11 and # 12

8/13/17 (5:20-5:31, I could not find the first part of my writing.)

…like the feeling was one of being given was the intangible gift of human decency and consideration.

I felt moments of joy that were broken by the thought that I’m better at this. This was a very healthy sit. I still refuse to meditate up to 20 minutes at home, still impatient and I don’t know why. I feed my thoughts like a junkyard dog, guarding the rubbish of ego. I swear I tend to my thoughts more than anyone in this world.

Good sit. Very good sit.

8/21/17 (2:20-2:23, nearly 20 minutes before the solar eclipse)

I think I saw nirvana. It was drowning in cathartic emotion, like crying, like dying and winning the race.

I was angry. I saw the object of my rage and wanted to hurt that person for hurting me, insulting me. I’d been arguing with him in my head a better part of the day, trying to win the war, trying to take back the past. And for some reason (maybe because of years of practice) I just said, “No. I will not do this.” And then I could feel the emotion. It was immense joy bound together with a deep sense of trepidation. It was good, but it was overwhelming. It was scary, but I think it was love, maybe. I saw a cabin in a forest. It was small, more like a bungalow and it had a small porch and afternoon sunlight penetrated the trees to create a light around the perimeter of the cabin, a bright light that illuminated the dirt and made it more dense in detail and clear. And I think I saw Jesus. Either his image superimposed on the cabin or maybe him standing on the cabin porch. I tried to sit longer. I refused. I had to write it.

P.S. I thought about that emotion that lasted for a split second and I felt that I had felt that emotion at one point in my life. I couldn’t identify it for a minute or two. Then finally I said to myself, “This is what I have experienced on the future day of my death.”

Post-Meditation Journal Entry #9 and #10

8/5/17, 9:58am-10:02am

All I saw of any significance was a triangle shape, like a logo for a company. If I don’t meditate later today for longer, this part will never get in the blog. But I usually have better luck sitting for longer later in the day.

8/5/17, 5:23pm-5:30pm

I was expecting something too much. I couldn’t concentrate. Although there were a few moments where I experienced something. I don’t know how to describe it but “pleasant in the present”. Some moments go by so fast during meditation, but might as well be forever. They’re full of promise. Like getting the money you’re owed, the money you forgot about, the money you desperately need by the end of the week. And you didn’t even have to ask the person that owed you.

I put too much on myself to experience something more real than real. I’ve been entertaining the idea of blogging my entries and indulging in the possibilities as an outlet for me. I kept thinking about it while meditating. It made my session less honest and I couldn’t sit still.

The mind clings to things and I’m the best at it. I’m so pliable with creativity, but when I have an idea that I think is the answer to my personal problems I can’t adjust in my mind, can’t even see other possibilities, too much pressure to control the outcome, to minimize emotional and psychological damage, the opposite of the present.

Post-Meditation Journal Entry #7 and #8

5/18/17, 1:23-1:46

I am changing. Every second a new thought to cling to, all dictating how to feel and perceive. So many thoughts.

I was successful and I don’t know how I was able to let them go one after the other. It was like changing cloths.

I can only vaguely remember one thought. It was a white male in his 30’s. Short, curly hair. He reminded me of the fat pledge from Animal House. He was wearing a white arctic outfit. I did not feel threatened by him. Although maybe I felt as though he was a loser. The type I’ve often needed to feel better about myself.

    

7/25/17, Time of day unrecorded, 8 minute duration

Chunky thoughts welled up. Or should I say a very big, chunky thought. Or a chunky chunk of thoughts. It was good and made me happy. And somewhat at peace. I’ve been having a lot of negative thoughts about my future these last few weeks, very gloomy. “Create your future,” the closest interpretation of the meditation’s message.

Post-Meditation Journal Entry #6

5/14/17, 6:43-7:00

He was a fat man with buzz clipped auburn/brown hair. He came in the form of a weeble. I could perceive the number 700. I held him in my mind for what felt like a few breaths. I asked myself if this thought was mine, conceived from my own conscious mind. Usually, the thoughts that I entertain in meditation are conscious thoughts. But it was not a conscious thought. I could not have concocted this image from that same ego. I had just been battling the world on that conscious level, replaying heartaches and reimagining previous scenarios. This weeble man felt like a balloon, like a bubble rising from soda, but slowly, not popping. It was made of light but it was not an unreal, not an out of body experience. It was natural. Like breathing.

Then, just like Wile E. Coyote, who finally realizes that he’s run off the cliff, I realize that this object was not from my thinking mind. And it was gone.

It was a good sit. I saw a warm face and she smiled and felt that there’s good in the world. I saw and felt many things that I wanted to hold onto by writing it down. But I didn’t. I was too far into the journey. I don’t remember much else.