It’s been a rough year and meditation hasn’t really been accessible for me. I’ve been getting frustrated every time I’ve tried to meditate because I can’t seem to focus on anything but the obsessive thoughts about my circumstances. But this piece is inspiring me to give it another go and try a new approach. Thank you for sharing my friend.
So good to hear from you, Vickee. Thanks so much for your comment. I'm glad you found value in the piece. I've missed your regular writing on Substack and wondered whether you perhaps shifted to a different publication platform. I can appreciate that your circumstances have been more on your mind than your writing. But whenever the time and situation is right for you, I hope that you continue to write. I've always been touched by the deep and honest expressiveness of your pieces and the perceptive observations about life that you share. With all my best wishes, Glen
I actually just wrote a piece last month, I think it was my only one in 2024. Ironically, it was all about my current circumstances and why I hadn’t been writing. I’m hoping to get back into it this month though. And meditation. And yoga. I miss it all! Keep your fingers crossed for that I can get back on track. 😊
Yes, fingers crossed! I’m sorry I missed your article last month. I will find and read it very soon. Thanks for bringing this to my attention. Be well, Glen
Dear Brother, thank you for another thought-provoking article. Of all the pieces you’ve shared over the years, this one resonates with me on a deep and complex level. It feels challenging, even a bit scary, as it touches on the very essence of being alive.
When you talk about meditating and focusing on a soulful, heart-centered self, I can’t help but think of our recently departed mother, Wilma. She lived for “dancing and romancing,” as she often said, while also valuing financial stability, love, and relationships. The concept of bare awareness, as you describe it, always seemed out of her reach.
I find myself split between two states of being. On one hand, I connect with an ego-driven self, much like Wilma. I love the flow state I experience when I’m immersed in a creative role—it brings me joy and satisfaction. Yet, it also leaves me restless, anxious, and sometimes even obsessed with the work. On the other hand, when I meditate each morning, focusing on my breath or the birds outside my window, I feel a sense of calm and detachment.
It’s hard for me to imagine fully choosing one over the other—bare awareness, like your friend, or the vibrant, ego-driven flow our mother cherished. However, I also feel there’s a lesson to be learned from Wilma’s life. In her final years, she was deeply unhappy because she could no longer “dance and romance.” Despite living a long 95 years, she seemed unable to view herself or her environment with the detachment that comes from seeing it as part of something larger.
I loved what you wrote. Thank you for such a self-revealing and full response–and one that offered such a deeply thoughtful connection to Mom.
I hear you about the challenge of balancing the “one with the universe” feeling with the restlessness and even obsessiveness that can accompany creative pursuits. I, too, often start out writing with an ease and openness to whatever thoughts and feelings want to be expressed and might do a draft of what is emerging. I can get into a creative flow with this. But then I’m often awakened at 3:00 in the morning, as I was a couple of times with this most recent essay, to push my understanding of whatever I’m writing about to an ever-deeper level and to say better what I'm trying to say. Certainly, revision and refinement are good things, but many times I’m driven to carry out these processes, and being driven is not a good feeling. I’ve tried to come to an acceptance of my contradictory impulses, rather than hoping for a smooth resolution, and, sometimes, as acceptance seems to come, the contradictions seem less sharp.
I think your reflections about Mom’s “dancing and romancing” hit the nail on the head. Even in her early 90’s, Mom, for all her wonderful qualities, said something to me like “I don’t get the whole spirituality thing.” She didn’t seem to feel a connection between the pursuits of dance and romance and a sense of a greater whole. Dance and romance were not so much blessings that she got to partake in as much as acts of her free and striving ego.
It’s been a rough year and meditation hasn’t really been accessible for me. I’ve been getting frustrated every time I’ve tried to meditate because I can’t seem to focus on anything but the obsessive thoughts about my circumstances. But this piece is inspiring me to give it another go and try a new approach. Thank you for sharing my friend.
So good to hear from you, Vickee. Thanks so much for your comment. I'm glad you found value in the piece. I've missed your regular writing on Substack and wondered whether you perhaps shifted to a different publication platform. I can appreciate that your circumstances have been more on your mind than your writing. But whenever the time and situation is right for you, I hope that you continue to write. I've always been touched by the deep and honest expressiveness of your pieces and the perceptive observations about life that you share. With all my best wishes, Glen
I actually just wrote a piece last month, I think it was my only one in 2024. Ironically, it was all about my current circumstances and why I hadn’t been writing. I’m hoping to get back into it this month though. And meditation. And yoga. I miss it all! Keep your fingers crossed for that I can get back on track. 😊
Yes, fingers crossed! I’m sorry I missed your article last month. I will find and read it very soon. Thanks for bringing this to my attention. Be well, Glen
Dear Brother, thank you for another thought-provoking article. Of all the pieces you’ve shared over the years, this one resonates with me on a deep and complex level. It feels challenging, even a bit scary, as it touches on the very essence of being alive.
When you talk about meditating and focusing on a soulful, heart-centered self, I can’t help but think of our recently departed mother, Wilma. She lived for “dancing and romancing,” as she often said, while also valuing financial stability, love, and relationships. The concept of bare awareness, as you describe it, always seemed out of her reach.
I find myself split between two states of being. On one hand, I connect with an ego-driven self, much like Wilma. I love the flow state I experience when I’m immersed in a creative role—it brings me joy and satisfaction. Yet, it also leaves me restless, anxious, and sometimes even obsessed with the work. On the other hand, when I meditate each morning, focusing on my breath or the birds outside my window, I feel a sense of calm and detachment.
It’s hard for me to imagine fully choosing one over the other—bare awareness, like your friend, or the vibrant, ego-driven flow our mother cherished. However, I also feel there’s a lesson to be learned from Wilma’s life. In her final years, she was deeply unhappy because she could no longer “dance and romance.” Despite living a long 95 years, she seemed unable to view herself or her environment with the detachment that comes from seeing it as part of something larger.
Dear Randy,
I loved what you wrote. Thank you for such a self-revealing and full response–and one that offered such a deeply thoughtful connection to Mom.
I hear you about the challenge of balancing the “one with the universe” feeling with the restlessness and even obsessiveness that can accompany creative pursuits. I, too, often start out writing with an ease and openness to whatever thoughts and feelings want to be expressed and might do a draft of what is emerging. I can get into a creative flow with this. But then I’m often awakened at 3:00 in the morning, as I was a couple of times with this most recent essay, to push my understanding of whatever I’m writing about to an ever-deeper level and to say better what I'm trying to say. Certainly, revision and refinement are good things, but many times I’m driven to carry out these processes, and being driven is not a good feeling. I’ve tried to come to an acceptance of my contradictory impulses, rather than hoping for a smooth resolution, and, sometimes, as acceptance seems to come, the contradictions seem less sharp.
I think your reflections about Mom’s “dancing and romancing” hit the nail on the head. Even in her early 90’s, Mom, for all her wonderful qualities, said something to me like “I don’t get the whole spirituality thing.” She didn’t seem to feel a connection between the pursuits of dance and romance and a sense of a greater whole. Dance and romance were not so much blessings that she got to partake in as much as acts of her free and striving ego.
Thank you for your honesty and wisdom, Brother.