The whirring of the mixer startled me. I had just sat down to meditate! Ignoring the irritation trying to make space in my mind, I tried to focus on my breath. No. It wasn’t working. Walking to my desk, I picked up the headphones and turned on my favourite meditation music. Ah, this was nice. This felt good. I leaned back into the chair and allowed my body to relax.
Then the kiddo banged open the door. “Maa, why is there hair in the bathroom!” I continued to keep my eyes closed. Maybe he would go away. But he was my kid after all. “Maa” he shook my hand. I opened my eyes, ready to blast some sense into him. Then I reminded myself I was trying to meditate. I was trying to calm myself. After asking him to clean it up himself, I determinedly closed my eyes. I would not open it. It was a 10-minute audio meditation and there were 10 interruptions! No one cared about me. No one bothered to ask or think what I wanted. They all constantly did what they wanted and interrupted me when I was doing what I loved. Be it writing or meditation, all they did was interrupt!
The pandemic had been bearable had first. But this continuous stay at home with 2 elders and their unique needs, the soon-to-be-teen kiddo and a working-from-home-husband was getting to me now. I wanted to run away. I wanted to be alone, and yet I was angry because I could never really stay alone. I was scared to be by myself. The unending household chores, the absence of my house-help who I depended so much on, the moody health, the endless cooking, the lack of personal space…it was jarring.
Turning my attention back to the music, I focused on the words being sung. It was one of my favourite chants for the Goddess. These meditation apps had made life so much easier. My mind wandered to my writing. I really wanted to write today. No! I yelled at myself. Stop interrupting your own meditation. I could yell around me all I wanted. How do I stop my own mind from interrupting?
“Nothing I see means anything.” I had begun reading A Course In Miracles that morning and the words from the first lesson popped into my head. Hmm. What if my inability to meditate didn’t mean anything? What if my son’s so-called demands for exotic food didn’t mean anything? What if my mother-in-law’s constant interruption of my writing didn’t mean anything? What if my husband’s inattention to my work didn’t mean anything? What if my Dad’s so-called loneliness didn’t mean anything? What if my guilt at not being able to manage everything and everyone more effectively didn’t mean anything? What if my desire to be perfect didn’t mean anything?
As these words left my head, I felt myself relax. Suddenly the head felt lighter and the body brighter and I found myself smiling. As the music danced through my body, I enjoyed the words being sung, the feelings being stirred, and the sensations pulsating through my being. Nothing I see means anything, I reminded myself.
(Just for fun, and my own learning, I have been writing down stories that allow the lessons from A Course in Miracles to sink in deeper. I felt guided to share these with the world and so here they are. These will also be archived in a single page on the website).