Some days, so calm…some days, so restless. The blessing of this practice has been to see that regardless of the waves on the surface, still there is a larger ocean that sees, witnesses, understands, experiences the waves. Some days I can really remember that, and of course it’s confusing-am I the restlessness, or am I the witness of the restlessness? This may sound cerebral, or conceptual, but it may also be one of the principal questions that meditation asks of us. Who are we really, when we get quiet and look?
Yesterday’s sit was very focused, and I felt myself getting drawn deeper and deeper into the breath, into its darkness and really its emptiness. A hawk flew by and I felt myself wanting to follow it, but just as I was departing, I came back, which does not always happen. It occurred to me right then that I have no clue what the breath is, where it comes from and where it goes-I mean, I know some of the science of O2 and CO2, but really, the heart of the breath-what is it? Who is breathing? Who is watching? Who listens, and who changes the breath? No answers here, just more questions.