Letting Go

I find it is becoming easier to let go. Over the past few weeks I've begun to exclude many non-important activities in favor of more fulfilling pursuits. My routines are far from perfect, but I've felt much more congruent internally than I have compared to the past few months. Lately I've rediscovered the benefits of knitting, painting, music, imagination, listening, and just feeling.

The biggest distraction I'm working on letting go of is distraction itself. Meditation is coming along slowly, but I'm gaining good experiences from it. At the moment it's more of a weekly rather than daily practice. My meditations seem to leave me with questions rather than peace and clarity. I appreciate it as I enjoy the focus it gives me. (My days seem to be riddled with poor focus or a lack of focus altogether.) Hopefully one day my sessions will leave me with a few answers instead.

Last night's meditation took me up a hill in a forest (I always try to travel up in some way). There was a familiar dirt path that lead me towards the cottage. As I walked it, a small flickering light caught my eye off to my left. I walked over to it and discovered a small, amber-colored stone. When I picked it up, somehow I knew it needed to be cleaned, so I rubbed it. As I rubbed and polished it, I felt a bright sensation in my forehead. It took some time to clean it up, but afterward I felt better. By the time this was done, I was starting to lose my focus and felt tired. Right before I made it to the cottage, I sensed the woman with me. She told me it was ok to go to sleep. I would be able to come back later when I was ready.

Many of my meditations end that way: "You can come back when you're ready." It's not negative, though; it's conveyed with love and patience. I guess it's hard work getting ready to listen, eh?