Friday, January 29, 2010


The feeling of silence within one's self is an amazing, beautiful emotion. When the body and the mind excepts noise, laughter, music, adrenaline inducing activities-the quiet of an empty house, the movement of pen on paper and studying is shocking. Tonight, I decided to stay home and finish all of my coursework before the weekend. I get irritated when I have wasted my time and have not been productive, so I decided that this weekend would be different. I am home, in front of the fire, taking notes on World War I. This is a non-holy, unreligious part of my life-school. But I have found the sacred in it - not the "holy" algebraic functions, or the "divine" stoichiometry problems, but the idea that productivity equals usefulness, and that by pouring my energy and my effort into any type of work means that I am fulfilling my basic need to be doing something.

Sometimes I have a hard time sitting in shrine and praying. Perhaps this is because sitting on my butt talking isn't really my way of doing things. I need to be doing something, either writing or reading tarot cards, or reciting a hymn. I adore the idea of Zen meditation, and it is one of my goals to develop my interest in it into an actual practice - but just sitting still makes me anxious, like there is not enough time in which to be active, and living fully does not mean contemplating the blossoming of a lotus. (I probably just need to separate my Zen meditation time from my Senut time, as communicating with my Parents doesn't come about by just breathing). Quiet is also essential for my soul, something that I need to focus, and it helps me banish the jumpy monkey-like part of my mind and embrace the fact that it is OK to be quiet. It is OK to not think about anything for thirty seconds, to take a deep breath and to let it out. Quietude is another state of being, and I need to learn how to use it.



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