I had decided not to write tonight. I worked right up until going to teach yoga tonight, worked a little more, ate dinner, worked until nearly 10 and had not made enough progress. I decided that I could just not write tonight.
While brushing my teeth I reminded myself that this is part of my practice. Just the effort to write about my day, what my experiences are. Like sitting zazen, something I do even when I don't feel like it.
The stress of a changing life has been at such a constant hum lately that it has been easy to just not write, not even a few sentences. I've gotten better at sitting zazen, but slacked off on this practice.
And the thing is, today had some good and interesting moments. I'm just tired and want to go to bed instead of writing about them. Today I've had the chance to reflect upon not enjoying writing when I'm tired and not enjoying zazen before work (I spend most of my time trying to NOT plan my day).
What I'm trying to reflect upon out of those discoveries is the satisfaction of practicing whole-heartedly, as my teachers would say. In each case I just am being with my discomfort and irritation and practicing anyway. There is actually some peace, some pleasure in merely the effort of practicing.
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