Another meditation “failure”. I’m still awake after that last bm (itself preceded by mere minutes of Zzzs) because I’ve been thinking about how I can convincingly tell Coleen and Arnold what I think about their tv watching habits. Needless to say, trying to control others’ behavior may come with caring thoughts, but that is not true compassion.

Whatever hadn’t already passed through my stomach of the last set of supplements is now headed down the Greater Phoenix sewage system.

On dry nights–or perhaps in reponse to mild acid reflux–my throat starts to coat itself with a thin coat of mucus. The irritation causes me to cough and clear my throat repeatedly.

I came close to rejecting my stomach contents a week ago, and sitting up (asleep) helped me get through it. The relief from vomitting tonight leads me to believe that the dry winter air is, at worst, an accomplice. From now on I’m going to have to either avoid voluminous supplements near bed time, or I’ll have to find a spine-friendly location to sleep vertically.

Note: this is not what I consider bedtime. Nor is 23:15, when I lay down to my coughing fits. Ask me to tell you some time about my experience focussing on love and compassion with
Spike TV or America’s Funniest Videos in the same room. Tomorrow, I cut back on my hubris vís-a-vís meditation.

I’ve been meaning to do some “strict” meditation. During my IV, I tried a focus meditation…just concentrating on the drip…drip…drip from the saline bag, but within minutes I’d fallen asleep.

Still, I’ve been trying to have each moment be a meditation, on love and on compassion. I’ve been far more aware of those moments of scorn or derision that I used to let pass unnoticed.

Sitting in the Barnes & Noble parking lot as coleen was inside shopping, I watched the Scottsdale traffic go by. I saw myself looking down on this mass of anonymous drivers in their endless stream of large cars, felt a small surge of anger at their seeming indifference to the consequences of their actions. And then…

I thought about what it would feel like to focus on loving the people around me, even those with thoughts different than mine. I thought about wishing an end to each of their suffering. My stomach and jaw, which tense up when I’m stressed, both relaxed, and, after noticing that my breath had become short and quick, I took a few deep, slow breaths.

I did not love those people. I did not feel compassion toward them. Yet, if merely thinking about being a “better” person can center me so quickly, I want to. I want to learn this way of being.