I’ve got to be honest—
I don’t want to meditate today.
I don’t want to haul myself through work for the day.
I don’t want to put on a brave face, or tackle the global issues we face.
I just want to curl up in a ball.
Over and under whelmed.
I feel disembodied, splayed, ungrounded.
Suspended in liminal space.
I’m so good at fixing how I feel—
Working on being positive,
Working through the negative,
Seeking balance, restoring a holistic sense of peace.
But today, I am weary of making the effort, forcing the goal.
I don’t want to go for a run in the fresh air to feel better—
I’m too tender. It’s too cold.
I don’t want to face my “to-do” list. It’s overly lofty and far too long.
I want to lie really still, in this nice warm bed, and let everything else disappear for the day.
I don’t want to worry about you or anyone else.
Or feel compelled to do right by others at the expense of myself.
I don’t want to worry about the homeless and unemployed people across town,
Or feel upset that they will be monumentally colder than I am.
I don’t want to worry about global warming, violence or crazy right-wing politicians on the rise.
I don’t want to imbibe books on how active Buddhism can save the world.
I just don’t want it to feel like it’s all up to me today—
Too much effort. I need some space.
I don’t want to think about how contentedness comes from within.
I’ve worked hard for so long to be comfortable wherever I am.
I’ve used discomfort as my spiritual (and not too spiritual) tool.
I’m tired of the effort it takes to be anything other than me where I’m at.
The only thing that feels right are the words by Bruce Lee: “Be like water, my friend.”
Today, I’m not riled up like waves, crashing on a shore—
Or a river, running out to sea.
I’m not weathering stones or whizzing through air at high velocity.
I’m a soggy mass of garbled stillness,
Full of imperfections.
But today—that’s okay with me.
Author: Catherine Simmons
Image: Unsplash/elizabeth lies
Apprentice Editor: Ceci Trigos; Editor: Yoli Ramazzina