No, I’m not in Waikiki, I’m referring to my spanking new meditation practice that’s a vacation all in itself, just without leaving the house.
For ten minutes twice a day, beginning and end, I shut down my mind leaving a mental note…gone fishin’.
It’s weird at first, sitting still, the go-go girl that I am, but after getting the hang of it, I now could easily be an art installation.
By the way, there are no right nor wrong ways to meditate. You don’t need to be sitting on a pillow in a lion cloth in the Lotus position, wooing leg cramps muttering OM till your lips go numb.
A meditational myth if there ever was one.
I sit up in bed with a pillow propped against the wall, my legs out, hands at my side in what I call, Rita Hayworth pose.
No candles or incense, no CD of waves waving in the background bought on Amazon with free shipping while trying to channel Gandhi who I’ll bet too, meditated in his pajamas. 
Oh come on, that Speedo he wore was to make a point, but home at the ashram, you can bet Mahatma was comfy.
That said.
Does one feel better after a good 10 minute dose of silence? Yes, and sometimes, it even goes longer, like 15 or 20 because, once those chattering monkeys 
who keep you up at night get the hint, when those baby blues flutter back open, you find yourself, a new girl. 
So to speak.
SB
That’s amazing. How do you get your mind uncluttered?
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I make piles…what to keep, what to give to charity. Then I dust my shelves and vacuum. Sometimes I just Swiff. 🙂
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I’ve only tried meditating a few times. I can’t begin to tell you what crazy thoughts slither through my head, no matter how hard I try to block it all out. I end up more frustrated than when I began. I’m better off relaxing with a book.
Pookie and I are off to see a Picasso exhibition this afternoon. Not my favorite paintings, but one of my favorite artists, if that makes sense.
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Well, there was that famous French sailor short of his. It’s all his fault I have 62 hanging in my closet. Have fun. 🙂
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This does sound like a great idea. Of course, I’ll have to go to a second-hand store to pick up some clutter, baggage, and a couple of chattering monkeys. Approaching the eighth decade has pretty much washed all of that stuff out to sea. (I think I’m tapping into the sailor short you mentioned.) Well, I guess I could spend time revisiting all my mistakes but that may take more energy than I have available. Thanks for the thought share, Susannah.
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I’m a very emotional, neurotic person by nature, for good reason, however…it does tend to get in my way. Have found keeping still a few minutes a day makes my fear less so. It’s as if you put yourself back into neutral. It erases the board. 🙂
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I can see that. Thanks, Susannah.
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I’m sure you can being the artist that you are.
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I think meditation is great if u have the patience to hang in there. Unfortunately it doesn’t work for me. 😎
~Hal Rubenstein From my iPhone
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Well, you play golf, maybe that’s a meditation for you. All those green hills I’m sure are very soothing.
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SB,
I read this earlier on my phone, but I waited to comment. For one thing, because I hate ‘texting’ a comment. But for another, because I. Love. This. And to text my full blown appreciation for it would be like cooking up a filet on a waffle iron.
I’ve gotten back into meditation recently, for many reasons. Not the least of which is the peaceful, easy feeling it leaves me with. I meditate in the mornings, as it moves me in the right direction. But I also will meditate on the sly . . whilst driving, during a quiet moment at work . . .
And you’re right . . the OM is somehow inextricably linked to meditation but I ain’t ever used it.
Did I mention I love this post?
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cooking up a filet on a waffle iron…GOES IN THE NOTEBOOK. Why thank you. I think it’s great you meditate, and we have one more thing in common. It does point you in the right direction, and though the peace is quite often short lived, you just do it again the following morning. I’ve been doing 10 minutes before I settle in for the night. It’s really helpful to keep those damned monkeys out.
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Got it! 😉
Those damned monkeys! They just don’t let a girl rest. Jeez!
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They’re here now. Damn🙃
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Watch those monkeys, SB.
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I locked the bedroom door.
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Good girl.
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I’m from Connecticut remember Mr. Imma. I don’t play with monkeys if I can help it. Hey Hey We’re the Monkeys… and people say they monkey around…oops, wrong monkeys.
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I don’t blame ya.
But umm . . if you put that song in my head, so help me God! LOL
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It is a little catchy. Sorry!
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LOL
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Now I’m singing it. That’s what I get fro being wry. sigh
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Karma, SB.
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Yes, karma. All I need are bobby soxs and a wad of gum.
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Don’t forget to click your chiclets.
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In Stereo.
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Always
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Brilliantly written, as per . I have tried meditating and shall retry. I know it takes 21 days to create a habit and this is one I truly wish to create. All who do, benefit from.
And I’m with you. None of that pretzel, pain-inducing, lip-numbing nonsense is required!
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It’s not for me, all the new agey, swamie, yoga, foot behind your ear, namaste…OMMMMM stuff. Nah! We’re much more casual here at the Bianchi Ashram.
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Same at the Rogerson one.
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Like a chain of good hotels.
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Indeed!
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We talk as if we’re sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee together. Zeke at your feet. 😴
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Isn’t that great? I like it…
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More coffee? 🙂
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Yes, please. Just a splash of milk 😉
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LOL
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🙂
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Cleaning uncluttered your mind??? Heaven help me! I’d put off cleaning forever if I could. Wait. Maybe you meant you decided what to keep in your mind. Then you dusted and vacuumed your gray matter. I might be able to do that kind of cleaning.
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My mind is like a packed garage 90% of the time. Imagine not having room for the car. That gray matter is all the stuff that doesn’t matter and if I’m not careful I’ll lose my mind which, come to think of it doesn’t seem to be here. If you see it Anne, will you send it home? That would matter.
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If I see your brain, then we’ll have a meeting of the minds. Both would be cluttered and lost.
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Love…the meeting of the minds, if I don’t lose mine first.
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For quite some time, I’ve been practicing clearing my mind of all the accumulated clutter. Stuff that I absolutely DO NOT WANT OR NEED. Mostly I want a clear head for where I am & what I am. My darlin’ husband is dying and I’m where I want to be with that; accepting the reality and dealing with it well. Michael (my man) always has reminded me…Vasca, to ignore reality is a temporary form of insanity. I don’t need any insanity in my life so? A day and a step at a time; that’s how I’m doing it. Really like this post and meditation…makes for contentment/happiness. Thanks!
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I’m very sorry about your husband.
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I don’t want to race, because I might lose.
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Yes but, I mind that. 🙂
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Should I laugh and say, “Mind your own business”?
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Never you mind Anne. Never you mind.
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My mother probably thought I never minded.
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Yes but, when can even a mother, read someone’s mind.
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I’m breaking the thread here, but I swear my mother could read people’s minds. She was a quiet person and very observant. I can’t count the times she said she thought some person would act a certain way, and it would come about. She had extremely good hearing and a sixth sense that no one else had. I wish I had half her skill.
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She was a seer it sounds, with an extra sense. My grandfather was like that. Could tell immediately if you were unwell or pregnant, then determine the sex. I mean, he could have had a little stand in the backyard like at Coney Island. 🙂
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I never heard of a man having special powers like that!
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Yeah, Grampa was the Italian Merlin, and boy, could he cook, being a retired baker and all. 🙂
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Did Grampa cook at home? My dad was a dentist, and he made the biscuits, pies, and cakes in our house after I left home. That implies that I cooked at home, but I didn’t. Cooked my first meal two weeks after we married. John took a real gamble on me!
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He had a little kitchen on his side of the cellar my dad and he shared. He was such a happy man. He’d sing while he rolled out dough for hot cross buns at Easter, Italian fruit cake for Christmas. We had pizza he made most Sundays that he’d make for the neighbors next door on either side of us. He taught me all I know about the joy of giving to others. Pop, as he was called, was my first love affair.
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What a bright star of your childhood!
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The one bright spot.
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