Clawing, reaching, desperately grasping, fiercely scrambling to finally swing my leg over the top of the cliff.
I have an image in my mind, of a man climbing a life-time high cliff of moments. The landscape of my lifes potential not gradually rising towards some gentle hills, but soaring straight up into the darkening of the end of atmosphere.
As I've climbed there have been gentler biases; shelves and plateaus and tiny little vales. I note those moments in my life as having always been used as an opportunity to rest – to ignore the destination and the journey and hide from the responsibility of continuing on.
On leaving these respites from the hazards and efforts of lifes purpose I'm always stymied by the next escarpment; the next obstacle; the next giant stone God or the universe has – with malicious cruelty – placed in my path so as to provide s/he/it with a good laugh at my expense.
"Look at the silly monkey, trying to climb that grease-covered tree."
And then there are moments of what seems in the midst of it to be clarity. Where the next rock-fall across the highway of my life can be seen as the inside-edge of the sink-hole created when I sat on my ass so long I began to depress the very ground around me.
It's not a rock in my path – it's the edge of the hole I've sunk myself into.
And I did it willingly.
And I'm not sure I want to leave.
Always there is another cliff, another forty-foot stair rise. Even when I've managed to approach these moments on the stair-case of lifewith enthusiasim and energy I've pulled myself to my feet, happy to have finally overcome…..
Only to be faced with a sixty-foot riser.
This is it? This is life? Over and over again, surmounting greater and larger and bigger steps only to be faced with yet another, bigger challange?
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Buddhism and meditation are supposed to bring a calming of mind. A peace. Clarity of thought and the ability to "see things as they really are."
An end of all suffering.
Today it mostly sucks. And it sucks because it is NOT – and can NOT – give me what I want.
I started because I wanted to conqure my emotions. Beat them li'l f_ckers into submission and make 'em do what I want for a god-damned change.
But no (//dripping sarcasm//) once again, Graham don't get what he wants.
Mediataion – at least in the early stages – means dealing with ones emotions. Allowing it to be.And feeling (jams fingers down throat to *PREVENT* the puke coming up) *compassion* for it.
Today all emotion sucks – especially the so-called good ones.
Ain't worth shyte if the only way to get 'em is to take the bad.
And here I am – with "all the love his heart can stand"………….
……. dreaming up ways "to throw it all away."
I am so effin' tired.