I guess it was last night that I gave up meditation at about 23 minutes. I was pissed off when I sat down. You'll notice, if you read this within a day of my having written it, that the top of this page is blank. The title banner, which lives on a separate server, is caught in domain registration limbo. That's what I was pissed off about. Then the dog started barking to come in. So I stopped meditation and let her in.
Actually, I never started meditation. I just sat there on the cushion fuming, listening for the prerecorded gongs of my timer to go off at five-minute intervals. Plus, my hemorrhoids were complaining.
I can almost guarantee you that nobody who has hemorrhoids believes in intelligent design. I told this to a friend, and she responded that she could see the beauty and music in all things. Maybe she should take a close look at my ass and see if there's a symphony for her there.
I hit the cushion tonight and realized I just didn't want to think about correct posture, following the breath, five-minute chimes, etc. So I just sat there and goofed off. I'd left the door open, and Rollo had come in and crashed on the zabuton. I scratched his ears for a few minutes, then I got up and went to bed. Which is where I am now.
Time to sleep.
Don't forget you're going to die.
Ciao.
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