Timing is everything

I began my contemplative practice this morning at 7:40 a.m. so that the bell at the hour would signal the end of 20 minutes. My mind was wandering and I centered on the word “detach” to calm my rampant thoughts. When I was able to more or less have my mind go still, I felt a tingling in the middle of my forehead. My eyes seemed to focus upward beneath closed lids.

Counter to the goal of emptying one’s mind, I thought of something that was important to do, a solution to a problem or a thought that was expansive in some way, but at this particular moment I cannot remember it.

Clarity often comes at the most inopportune times.

Day 1, p.m.
I laid down on my bed at 4:40 p.m. to do my second contemplative session. Having been out all day, first at church, then a visit with my aunt and uncle and shopping for refreshments for a program for school tomorrow, my mind was flitting and tumbling all over itself. I cautioned myself about falling asleep.

After a while, I became interested in how much time had passed, and I opened my eyes and looked at my clock. It is 5:06 p.m. and I had undoubtedly slept through the clanking at the hour. I learned that it’s probably not a good idea to try to meditate in the late afternoon.

Day 1, p.m., take two
Because I had fallen asleep in the afternoon, I decided that I would log in another 20-minute contemplative session this evening. Again my mind jumped all over the place. Concentrating on a single word, at least for right now, does not seem to be an effective method of preventing my whirling mind to empty itself.

But I have become aware of the constant stream of thought that accompanies me wherever I go. This morning on the way to the BART station, a 15-minute walk from my room, my mind was constantly taking in my surroundings and providing me a silent verbal commentary. Much of the thought was peaceful, “oh, isn’t that plant pretty, or “oh, how weird, they spray painted those plants.”

But I wonder about that commentary and I remember times when I am simply absorbed and silent in the moment.