Meditation diaries: A ramble from being ultra-calm to wanting to explode.

The other day I felt so oddly calm. It may have been lack of motivation to care about anything. I don’t know.

But it was certainly calm. I even started writing up about ‘calmness’ only to find I was too calm to continue typing it up. I realise I had nothing much to say other than, “wow i feel so oddly relaxed considering how agitated and desperate I became just a few days earlier.”

Well, that calmness has gone.

I’m agitated and irritated by every little thing, even things that would normally have at least a minimal soothing effect.

Ear defenders to have some semblance of silence after I felt that noise was irritating me, only to find the ear defenders started to irritate me and then the silence started to irritate me. And then when I took them off I was irritated all over again at the feel of my ears getting used to not being covered again. Then I was irritated by the noises again.

I paced a bit. Came back in. Was instantly irritated by being back in my flat.

Tried talking to someone, not about this topic just about anything to distract myself. Felt irritated with the conversation. Realised halfway through talking I couldn’t really be bothered with it and so said those things you’re expected to say, “So i’m going back to my flat now, see you tomorrow,” All that stuff. Went back to my flat.

Still agitated.

The voices on the radio, music, knowing certain people exist in the world, my own existence, the frailty of life, the lack of any meaning to it despite all the fucking suffering, agitation and angst.

Which is like a slap in the face. Why bother with all these emotions when it’s all so pathetically ‘accidental’ and meaningless?

Yet still, my biology feels the way it feels. We like to try and forget that our biology dictates a lot of how we feel.

And that is just another slap in the face, my brain, my body keeps sending all these hormonal signals and neurons into a frenzied attack of making me want to scream all the while knowing I’ll be irritated by my own fucking screaming.

Everyone’s feelings and attitudes absorbed by me (or so I perceive) and all I want to do is push it all away. Keep away from me with your feelings and your baggage is what I want to scream at people. KEEP THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!

And then in the silence and in being alone, I realise I can’t cope with my own baggage either. At this point my baggage is so messy it’s not even funny. The bag is bulging to the brim of messed up shit, a lot that makes no sense. And I can’t seem to tease anything apart into breakable, edible pieces.

I think of a song I might want to listen to because a lyric comes to mind then I realise, no I don’t wanna hear any fucking sound. Even if it is one of my favourite bands.

The sun shining is provoking me, poking my agitation with its rays, “Here I am. A complete contrast to how you feel. Ah just soak me up.” And for a moment I think, “Maybe soaking you up will help?” After all sunlight is good for us, isn’t it?

But I’m resentful of the sun shining right now in this moment. I’m resentful that humans as a species made it so the sun is a symbol of happiness. Because I can’t connect to that word, or that feeling and never have been truly able to.

I think it’s a thing that doesn’t exist. Not in the way it’s sold.

But despite knowing this, I feel I’m perpetually mourning the ideals of ‘happiness’ we’ve been sold.

When I was amazingly calm the other day I remember feeling like I’d let go of everything, because everything just was and everything just is. I wasn’t particularly happy, in fact what I was somewhat feeling could have been described as sad. But I’d somehow for the day managed to let go of any expectations and of other stuff I can’t quite put my finger on, and so any feelings were just…well they didn’t have much weight to them.

What puts the weight back into them? I don’t know how my feelings gained weight again. I just know they did. And now they’re obese again with pressure and the heart is working harder to keep from losing itself.

Meditation diaries: Resistance really is futile

I have a lot of niggling anxieties echoing away inside my skull. I can quieten them for a bit, but they inevitably come back.

What I’m anxious about I can’t really do anything to change. It either will be or it won’t be what I want.
I’ve had this same anxiety before, in fact, it’s common for me every three months or so when I have to have blood checked and then repeated till they’re at a level the doctors are happy with. It’s the same game each time, yet the anxieties won’t go away. Each time I find myself thinking, “What if they don’t go back down?” Without going into too much detail, basically, I often get ‘high’ results for some bloodwork and then have to wait for it to lower before I can commence with further treatment for a health problem.

A more logical side of me counters that thought with, “It’s gone down all the other times.”
But of course, my anxious side answers that with, “But what if this is the time it doesn’t? Where does that leave me then?”

And I’ll attempt to resist that thought, that anxiety.

But something I keep learning and re-learning like I’m stuck in a cycle of knowing it, but yet not quite catching up to the knowledge, is that resistance often makes the thing you’re trying to resist worse.

Another familiar feeling I often find myself trying to resist is anger. I’m all too aware of the possible reasons someone may be ‘off’ or be behaving in a way that may be anti-social. I’m all too aware because sometimes I’m one of those people.
And for little irritating things someone has done that knowledge usually prevents much anger in the first place.

But what if I’m aware of the myriad of possible reasons someone is behaving ‘anti-social’, but it’s happening every month, week, every day? Eventually, I reach a threshold where knowledge of any possible reasons for the person behaving in such a way no longer matter.
Once I get there, I find it hard to filter any anger out through the knowledge, because damn it he/she has trodden on me just too many times now.
But because of that knowledge and actually despite appearing like I don’t have much empathy with others, I’m often overwhelmed by other peoples grievances. This makes me wish my anger away, becoming frustrated by my anger and soon rather than it being a case of “How dare he treat me this way,” It becomes, “How dare I be angry.”
But of course, this doesn’t stop me being angry if anything it builds it up even more until I end up frothing at the mouth in rage.

Another thing I try to resist is physical aches and pains only to find they somewhat ease themselves when I just lay down and let them ache and let the pain be there. I don’t usually just lay there with it till I’ve tired myself out from a frenzy and simply don’t have the energy to fight it.

So this week I’ve been trying not to resist things as much. Sometimes I find I’m actually resisting the idea of not resisting…

But once I’ve managed to get to that space where I’m not resistance, it’s like I feel a weight off my shoulders.
Sure the thoughts come back at some pain, the resistance comes back as it’s so automatic to resist, but once I recognise I’m resisting and let it go I do find I just kind of relax into the pain so that the pain no longer feels as much of a big deal.

I’m still struggling to apply to this anger though, and I find myself still beating myself up about any anger and then becoming more frustrated and angry as a result.

But I am more used to physical pain than anger, so I guess the anger and anxiety stuff will take longer to get used to. One thing I do know, from times I have managed to allow myself the anger or any other negative feeling for that matter, it eases it so I don’t feel as much of a need to act on it.

Which sounded counterintuitive to me when I first realised this idea of resistance making it worse. I always thought, and still struggle with this though, that if I don’t resist it, surely I’ll just act violently to the person I’m angry at?

But the opposite seems to be true, the more I resist, the more I oddly react. Like the act of resisting just causes a snowball effect till I can no longer control my impulse to scream, “YOU FUCKING TWAT!”

In not resisting the feeling, In telling myself I’m allowed to feel angry I find there is less of an impulse to act, therefore less need to resist acting out the feeling. That isn’t to say there isn’t a momentary impulse of shouting, “You fucking twat!” that you have to resist. But there seems to be a big difference between feeling angry and then thinking, “I’m so fucking pissed off right now! Damn it, don’t be so pissed off!” and feeling angry and then thinking, “I’m so fucking pissed off right now, and I’m allowed to be pissed off!”

Keeping bulls in cages

In my resistance
these thoughts become more insistent
restraining these feelings
Acting in the moment
Before you can clearly see things
And so much for all this talk of empathy
And being sold ideals
Of no anger
yet the more I don’t allow
The bull a little run
The more angry it becomes
Raging even before the storm
All because I hold too tight
In the hopes I could contain it
But it’s almost killed me, so many nights
Restraining bulls
In cages

Nuances of nature

The ways I sees it is this
Heartbreak don’t leave
On the whims of a calendar
It stays as long as it takes
And ya can’t put yer brain in a sling
To ‘elp fix the nooks and crannies & breaks

To a heart the’ is no too early or too late
It neither dawdles or rushes in a hurry
It just rises and wanes
And the truth is our brain can’t
Protect us from the feelings
We harbour & cage
Kicking up a kerfuffle
At the nuances of natures way

The mechanics of feelings

Feelings don’t abide by the ticking of the clock
they don’t align with our linear concept of time
There is no cross on any date
You can mark on the calendar
For when the heartbreak
Has lingered on too late

It’ll stay for as long as it takes
All you can do is ride the waves
As it rises and wanes
Disappears and comes back again
Grinding your gears
Cranking your levers
The mechanics of feelings
Are much too misunderstood
All trying to feel things
We’re not ready for

You can’t put your brain
In a sling
Hope it’ll fix it
by the first day or spring
The notches upon our days
Care none for what you feel
Or if you have or haven’t healed
It just goes on
Each revelation revealed
Solutions found and concealed

And like a water mill
We keep turning and churning
We’re powerhouses
Furnaces
Hidden behind irises