Detaching from detachment
I’ve been meditating more recently. Not just everyday, but multiple times a day. Sometimes in the middle of the work day, when I feel frenzied, I’ll sneak into the First Aid room, sit on the floor with my mala beads and count my breaths.
What’s really funny is that there is no light switch in the First Aid room. The light switch is actually in an adjacent room, the supply room. Long story as to why this is, but that’s how it is. This one time, I was sitting there meditating, and I guess someone went into the supply room to get something and flipped the switch. The light went on in the First Aid room, and I chuckled to myself, “Whaaa? Am I enlightened now?”
I’m typically very ritualistic when I meditate at home. I prefer to meditate at night, in the dark by the light of a single tea candle in the corner. The first thing I typically do is light incense.
Next, I ring the singing bowl, clap the tingshaws, or hit the gong. It depends on how I feel that day.
Then, I sit and meditate. Sometimes I can get deeply into it. Sometimes I stay on the surface. I try not to control where it goes. Then I end my meditation session with the singing bowl, tingshaw, or gong (it depends on what I started with).
The most recent thing I’ve noticed about myself in meditation is that I have trouble letting go. Just before I head into that space where I am detached, I feel myself get anxious, unwilling to go. I feel myself fight it. The feeling of anxiety bubbles up into my chest. I wonder if being so ritualistic is related to this inability to let go. I’m sure the reason will reveal itself with time.