toeing the line

shoes small

I’ve been writing here every day no matter what since October 8th of last year.  That’s 146 days straight – I think, I didn’t count twice.  I’m not crazy excited about all of my posts – far from it – and sometimes I wonder what I’m doing it all for, but mostly I’m just glad I’ve done it, one way or another.  In the same period I’ve fallen off and gotten back on my diet multiple times, started exercising and stopped and then started again and the same with meditation.  This is the only thing I’ve done every day come rain or shine.  It feels good.  Even when I’m not terribly excited about what I’ve written and even when I’ve nodded off in the middle of writing it.  Good or bad I’ve showed up.

Lately I’ve noticed that that effort is bleeding over into other parts of my life.  I have been meditating more frequently, falling off my diet less often.  I’m starting to believe myself when I say I’ll do something.  My heart has lifted.  I’m not so hard on myself all the time.

We’re told that we’re not supposed to worry so much about whether a meditation is “good” or “bad,” we’re just supposed to do it, noting our flagging or rapt attention without judgement.  The value in this lack of judgement has never been so clear to me as it is now, 146 days into this experiment.

If we’re so busy hating or loving our efforts than we become very attached to the outcome or to the way we think the outcome ought to look.  The reality is that we have less control over the outcome than we would like.  Some of my favorite things I’ve written hardly anyone read and some of the things I didn’t care very much about at all totally struck a chord with people.  What happens when I hit publish has less to do with me than I’d like it to, and over time I’m growing to like that more and more.  It’s a relief to let go.

As I do, I feel myself falling in love with my life.  I don’t think it’s a coincidence.