DAY 13

It should be noted that 99% of the time, when I finally sit down to write these posts, I have no idea what I'm going to be writing about. Hopefully, that, in some way, excuses anything I may write that could be offensive or just dumb. I try not to make this just a recounting of my daily events, but something at least a little deeper. But, sometimes, the depth just isn't there.

This might be similar to how I've come to view my meditation practice. Back when I really struggled to make meditation a consistent habit, I was always focusing on how bad I was at it. If the whole point is to let the thoughts pass by your consciousness like clouds and not get pulled into them, or even get attached to them, then I was failing at meditating most of the time I was sitting there.

Then, somewhere along the way, I got the idea that it didn't really matter. Of course, that's what I'm shooting for, but getting frustrated at failing was even worse than failing itself. I realized that if I wanted a regular meditation practice, I had to become OK with the idea that I didn't need to be good at it. Or even mediocre at it. I could be horrible at it, as long as I committed to sitting there everyday for a set period of time.

While I have, over the years, had some glorious sessions where I was able to completely disconnect from thought and have incredible spiritual experiences, most of my meditations involve me spinning in my own silly thought patterns for about 18 and a half minutes, before I reach some level of peacefulness and calm for about a minute and a half, and then I'm done. That was how it went tonight. I haven't figured out the formula yet; like if there's some kind of day that I can have that will lead me to a better practice, or a time of day, though it might be morning if I could get myself out of bed before the kids wake up. But, it really seems, at this point, to be kind of random to me.

This also reminds me of something I read about what it takes to be a great artist. The frustration in the beginning is knowing what great art is and not being able to produce it. The mastery comes from allowing yourself to make bad art consistently and for long enough that you eventually get good at it. Whether or not any artist ever reaches the height of their vision may be one of the great mysteries. My guess is that, if we're lucky, the vision continues to grow with the talent, always staying just one or two steps out of reach. Because how boring would life be if we had nothing to work towards?

Having come through this stomach virus thing with the whole family, I was able to venture out a bit (after 2 back-to-back morning movies with the kids) and get a bit of last minute shopping done and pictures of the kids with Santa. It felt a bit like chipping a tiny piece of ice off of an iceberg, but I'll take it. It was nice to have a fun day with the kids and enjoy their anticipation of Christmas.

Tonight is all about what I'm shooting for: I like revisiting that bit on creativity. It was by Ira Glass and I watched the video of it in my writing class last fall.  In that spirit, I want to recommit to my writing goals. But this time, I'm shooting to just keep writing. Everyday. Every week. That's the only way I can even approach mastery. And mastery is what I'm shooting for. Maybe not in my 40s or even my 50s or 60s, but in my lifetime. I'm willing to be a bad writer until I get there.

Thanks to anyone who's willing to keep reading until then!

goodnight. ~k