I honest to God don’t know. Can one say what one is? How does one define one’s own sense of being alive? I think it is this hum, or buzz, blah blah blah blah blah blah, that keeps on talking inside one’s head. A stream of babble. The inner voice that never, never, never shuts up. Never. What is it saying? One can’t listen; if one listened, it would be, I think, the moment just before death. Cynthia Ozick from an interview in The Paris Review.
A year of meditating, for the most part. I can’t help myself: I look for accomplishment and what it’s all meant. I give myself a good talking to. If you’re looking to accomplish something, Lori, you’re not really meditating. Life isn’t easy, but meditation is simple.
Here’s the recap of my first year of meditating:
February 18, 2012 Soon after moving into…
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