Me Me Me

I will miss my meditation class. It ended this week.

One of the questions the instructor asked, and which we have to answer on an exit questionnaire was, What did you get out of the course?

For me, I'm trying to separate the effects of Prozac from meditation. I think the drug helped me be more attentive to the meditation. The meditation allowed me to tap into my internal landscape to get a better sense of who I am and what I am capable of. Together, they help me be more me.

So my quest now is to better define me. Well that's what blogs are about, aren't they? They're me me me tools. Even if I were to give political opinions or report on current events, they're what I think, they're takes on the world as I see it. I had dinner recently with some friends and one of them said, Oh write about our dinner, write about me. I said, For that, you're better to you start your own blog. He said, Oh, so it's all about you, is it?

Well, yeah. But I digress. So back to me.

In a village, there are many personalities that hold the village community together. There is the artist, the teacher, the builder, the healer, the hunter, etc. Me, I'd be the hearth-keeper. I gather my clan in my retreat, feed them, rest them, rejuvenate them so they can go out there and better do what they do. I think most of my activities and pursuits evolve around this dominate theme.

When The Boy has friends for a sleep over, I make sure his friends sleep on an inflated air mattress, that they have pillows and pillow cases, that they have enough blankets. The Boy says, But mom, their parents don't fuss like that, we just crash on the floor with a sleeping bag. I tell him, But I am not them. When I have overnight guests, I treat them like honourable guests. It doesn't matter what other parents do, it matters what I do. I guess I am like Odysseus, always on a journey to return home.

Through meditation and better self-acceptance, I appreciate the beauty of imperfection more. Look at The Man. Despite his absence, I am not blind to his flaws. But in spite of his flaws, I am often quite smitten with him, still after all these years. Sure, absence makes the heart fonder and all that. But I never fail to see the goodness in him, even during our most heated bouts of dysfunction. Now, I also realize he wouldn't be who he is without his flaws. And because I accept his flaws, I also accept mine more, and I have so many. So true - it's our "flaws" that are the spice of life.

I aim to meditate or do yoga each day to keep up the practice of mindfulness. Except when I forget.