My Left Hip

Last night, during my body scan meditation, I was focusing on the sensation in my left hip area - like you do - when the following bubbled up out the muddle: "I'm tired of apologizing for my existence."

It doesn't take a psychoanalyst to figure out where the thought came from, but the message was delivered in a calm and determined voice. My voice, but, not my voice. I think we've all had this experience in moments of reflection. There I was, lying flat on the bed, breathing deeply, trying to clear my mind before going to sleep, and now this? So, I did the only thing I could do. In my interior voice, just as calmly and determined, I said, "I cannot deal with you right now, I have to concentrate on my left hip."

Obviously, (your reading about it) the thought stuck with me, but in that moment it just kinda of floated away back where it had come from, and I have to admit, it felt like a tiny victory.

And here is what I think I learned in that moment: I cannot expect to meditate perfectly. I have to allow whatever mental flotsam is there, to be there, but I don't have to engage with it. When this occurs - which is all the time - what I need to do is return to the meditation no matter how many times I'm pulled away. There will be times when letting go of something will not be possible, times when I will actually drift off to sleep during the meditation, and times when I will heave a sigh of relief that the torture is over the moment the digital recording comes to an end.

Meanwhile, I've decided to keep a journal next to the bed for the occasions when thoughts do bubble up that I cannot shake. And yes, I've started that journal with a list of things I'm tired of apologizing for.