Being in the moment

I used to occasionally, usually while washing up for some reason, become aware of me: me at this point; me rinsing a cup, staring out at the woodpile - this is me, doing this in this present moment. Now, having explored mediation ( a very basic exploration so far) for a few months, I get what that was about. We're always so busy thinking ahead to what has to be done next; planning, even if it's just, what's for lunch, or oops, must put a wash on, or worrying about the past - things we might have done or said or completed inefficiently or not even started that we forget to appreciate the fact that we are alive, experiencing being alive, and all the associated sensations however small or overlooked.

I started trying to meditate during the first throws of our house moving project when the lists, packing and endless arranging of everything became overwhelming. At first I could never switch off sufficiently from the to do lists, the phone calls, solicitor stuff, etc, but after about five attempts with the help of a guided meditation channel on Youtube the quiet mind thing gradually seeped in to my overloaded person. If anyone reading this has never tried meditation I would recommend it, especially in our current bewildering time of this century - all centuries have had their own varieties of bewilderment but I imagine most humans would find 2020 to have been somewhat challenging...

A successful meditation is almost as good as a calming massage, and free! especially if you can get to the particular ultra relaxing state of body heaviness - being grounded I suppose. I can't cope with the guided mediations that feature 'calming music' just the spoken word seems to work for me, or possibly a bit of gentle sea on pebble beach sound, or something similar. I can just about get myself into a mediative state now if I recall one of the guided meditations I have used many times, and am becoming more aware of the general 'me being in the moment' and worrying less about what must be done later, tomorrow, next week, etc as I go about my day.

Here's a small youtube of Martin Scorsese talking about his own meditation practice and thanking David Lynch for his work in creating - The David Lynch foundation for transcendental meditation. Clint Eastwood meditates too . . . has done for the last 40 years . . .

Martin Scorsese on Transcendental Meditation and the David Lynch Foundation

Stretching yourself

I've been saying 'I'll go to a yoga class' for about twenty-three years, give or take a few months, but for the last two Fridays I have - gone to a yoga class.

When you look up yoga images on the net - such as the above, (thank you, Huffington Post) 99% of the images are of lithe young beautiful people with slim limbs, poised in ligament-wrenching poses in front of impossible sunsets, aqua seas and white-sanded beaches.

Our yoga group was mainly OLDER people: grey haired, a little thicker around the middle than perhaps they (certainly me) would like, but nevertheless, relatively fit-ish. The class was held in a 'bien-être' center (being good to yourself, place) which was a sterile as a dentist's waiting room with a view of a lot of dead grass and a soundtrack of grunting from the adjacent weights room.

BUT! the class was a revelation, both times. 

I do exercise each morning; a sort of home made routine of physio, Alexandre Technique and yoga that I have vague memories of from decades ago, but this is so all-consuming, even with the grunting from next door invading one's inner beautiful space. 

Even though I've only done two classes, already I feel more supple; legs more energised, less (slightly) stressed about trying to get everything done - and I'm working on this. Maybe I'll add in the other thing I've been meaning to do for the same twenty-odd years - meditation.

I did attend one class back in London on the Hornsey Road where we spend about half an hour examining the complex taste sensations of a raisin and then did breathing techniques of counting to ten slowly and not letting ideas, worries and lists of the following day intrude. I was supremely bad at this but was attracted to the IDEA of it - the idea of being able to really empty the mind of all useless angst and to concentrate only on The MOMENT, etc.

I did wonder if after these two sessions I might think . . . nah, not enough time, another thing to find money for, whatever, but I feel drawn to continue and find out what my not-so-young bod can put up with and, hopefully, embrace.