Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Prompt #16

Self-possessed, resolute, act
without any thought of results, 
open to success or failure
...... 
Pitiful are those who, acting, 
are attached to their action's fruits  

(page 55) 




I act with such intent, and I wish I didn't. With most decisions I make, either good or bad, I think of the results with full awareness of how my actions will effect me, effect others, and effect my life. I know I'm wrong to live life in the next breath instead of the one I'm breathing, but I cannot help it. I also know that it pitiful to be so absorbed by what is to come in stead of what is present. But what is there to do? How can I live in the moment, without being so attached to its results? In my innate senses I feel that laying too strongly on one option will become troublesome for my soul. So I must fine balance. I want to get out of the mind set that all I do must be magnificent, and that if it is not, I have failed. I have to let go of the extreme expectations I desire in order to eliminate utter disappointment. At the same time, however, I must embrace my knowledge of self expectation, and know that I can achieve greatness. I must embed in myself that not doing anything wont lead me anywhere. The balance is simple once I can see that all my accomplishments are rewarded on the process, not the results. Once I can make this my own, I will find that peace in myself that I deserve.





Picture From: http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://library.creativecow.net/articles/wilson_tim/win-mac/balance.jpg&imgrefurl=http://library.creativecow.net/articles/wilson_tim/win-mac.php&usg=__lSp2inZzqcYyQza86J6mHVAXIKo=&h=334&w=500&sz=24&hl=en&start=0&sig2=dRi58eX_riLs8WC4F5KZtQ&zoom=1&tbnid=WECY9Djv8EMJGM:&tbnh=167&tbnw=210&ei=gEzHTKGxGIK8lQem2uC9Ag&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dbalance%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dsafari%26sa%3DN%26rls%3Den%26biw%3D1205%26bih%3D684%26tbs%3Disch:10%2C20&um=1&itbs=1&iact=hc&vpx=742&vpy=295&dur=221&hovh=183&hovw=275&tx=158&ty=122&oei=aEzHTMGtDYqr8AbCxMG1Dw&esq=3&page=1&ndsp=15&ved=1t:429,r:8,s:0&biw=1205&bih=684

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Prompt #15

My bamboo roots and shoots are the reflection of the person I wish to be. I cannot say that I am there; for I am not even a shoot, or even a thought of a shoot, or even a thought of a thought of a shoot. As of now, I am simply trying to make my roots apparent to the world I live on. I am slowly contributing to the nutrients of the world growing and expanding in the soil I wish to call time. Once I break out of the time I am stuck in, my roots will sprout--When that will be? I cannot say. If I were even close to a shoot, I would be afraid of my own success. It sounds funny, but let me explain my humor in the fact that who I am now is probably not nearly who I will be in the future. The future for me is spending each hour of the day doing something I love. My future is the need to create something beautiful to share with the world. I want to take my soul and my talents and make an impression on anything and everything that passes me by. I don't know what that is, how that is, who that is, or when that is, but I do know this: My future and my full grown shoots will never, ever be complete, for I will grow an internal sense of intelligence and self awareness until the day I die. Until then, I will water each shoot with confidence and awareness and try to fully understand my potential on this world. I will keep my balance and my realization of my being and do my ultimate best to make my newly formed roots into a bamboo masterpiece; even if I am the only one who thinks so. 




Image From: http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.terragalleria.com/images/black-white/np-tropics/hale20927-bw.jpeg&imgrefurl=http://www.terragalleria.com/black-white/parks/np-image.hale20927-bw.html&usg=__465JBbg8AA_D4FQYb0nmXqIJaFM=&h=416&w=576&sz=89&hl=en&start=0&sig2=Ih_QsxMqp5CqqdHjfD9fDQ&zoom=1&tbnid=zI9ROEbS0QILZM:&tbnh=141&tbnw=195&ei=waC0TNbCJ4P48AbWhLGPCg&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dblack%2Band%2Bwhite%2Bbamboo%2Btree%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dsafari%26rls%3Den%26biw%3D1160%26bih%3D706%26tbs%3Disch:10%2C34&um=1&itbs=1&iact=hc&vpx=135&vpy=305&dur=746&hovh=191&hovw=264&tx=177&ty=79&oei=waC0TNbCJ4P48AbWhLGPCg&esq=1&page=1&ndsp=16&ved=1t:429,r:5,s:0&biw=1160&bih=706
 

Monday, October 4, 2010

Honors Prompt #4


Monday Meditation 

I promised my self one thing: “Tonight I will meditate,” I thought.  “Tonight will be like yesterday, just pay attention to you…Izzy” I sit outside on my patio made of tan bricks and cold cement. I sit up straight and do a cycle of the shoulder rotations then settle in my frame. I take a huge breath of almost nine seconds each way and then create a more repetitive beat, counting six with each inhale and exhale. A few (what it seems to be) minutes later my eyes open up with absolutely no desire. The light rain has begun to fall and my previous calmness and concerns vanish. I close my eyes again and re-focus on the purposes I had intended for this couple of minutes of silent relaxation. I start over. I begin with one, then to two, and three, four, five, six and seven, and hold and exhale with the same counts and the same devotion. I begin to enter that state I have previously explained, or tried to. The state when I do not know the difference between noises in my mind, and noises in my world and the state where I cannot notice if what I feel on my skin is real or not. I continue to breath and to count; however the numbers become bleached into my soul and I no longer can hear my internal voice. I feel the rain getting harsher and more frequent. With each drop I feel on my breaths getting deeper and more personal. My mind has become empty and I start to notice my surrounding again. The rain then lightens, and my vision does too. I flutter my eyes open expecting to have water inundate my eyeballs and it does not. Now, maybe the rain has truly lightened, or maybe I am more in touch with nature than I had though. 

Photo From: http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://richardxthripp.thripp.com/files/photos/stock/source/raindrops-ss.jpg&imgrefurl=http://richardxthripp.thripp.com/2008/01/photo-raindrops/&usg=__LsI_7crl684FeyL6aUe-8Ao7jgk=&h=1728&w=2304&sz=1426&hl=en&start=24&sig2=jc0HltCNSmWPmAfzk5_thQ&zoom=1&tbnid=ikTGtzWjxSe9dM:&tbnh=130&tbnw=206&ei=vIeqTPPdNoSclgffyPH1DQ&prev=/images%3Fq%3Draindrops%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26safe%3Doff%26client%3Dsafari%26sa%3DX%26rls%3Den%26biw%3D1191%26bih%3D706%26tbs%3Disch:10%2C498&um=1&itbs=1&iact=hc&vpx=901&vpy=221&dur=366&hovh=191&hovw=254&tx=188&ty=55&oei=soeqTJnLHIL68Ab_4qSVBw&esq=2&page=2&ndsp=24&ved=1t:429,r:5,s:24&biw=1191&bih=706


Sunday, October 3, 2010

Prompt #14

Sundays Meditation 


I get out of bed, walk across the apartment, kiss my dad good morning, whack Simon in the back of the head as he watches TV, tell them not to bother me and grab a glass of water. I head back to my room, which is painted like a tan tomato. I sit on the floor—no rug this time—and tell myself that I can do this. I look at the clock: 8:56 am. My back is as straight as could be, my shoulders relaxed, and my chin flexed. I close my eyes; take a deep breath, and begin counting. “One, two, three, four, five, six, HOLD, one, two, three, four, five, six,” and repeat. This goes on and I try to get everything I can out of my mind, and when things enter with no invitation, I tell them to leave me alone, just for a moment. I watch them walk out with frustration and slowly give me the stink eye as they turn around for one last look. I then lock the doors so no more can enter, and re focus of my breaths. Without any idea or notion of time, I just sink. I sink into this state of calmness. I have nothing on my mind except numbers, which begin to fade. Then something strange happens. I begin thinking of this place and of colors, mostly blues and grays. It seems like my eyelids are an array of watercolor symphonies dropping tone with each breath. I feel this temperature change, and slowly get colder and colder. My breaths get deeper and become more apparent and my eyes flutter open with really no intention. I feel like I just woke up from a nap that lasted either forty-five seconds or forty-five days. I then look at the clock and it reads: 9:10. This is the longest meditation I have ever been able to sit through and really embrace. This is the first time I have blocked out my surroundings and watched colors surround me. This is the first time I have listened to my mind in pure silence, the first time I have touched my soul and the first time I have experienced such internal peace. I stand up and walk out my door and onto the deck that rests above the Boston Harbor. The blues now seem to make sense—considering each tone of the ocean and of the sky this morning is either a shade of grey, like slate, or a Caribbean or steel blue, a misty or muted blue, or like a blueberry, or a blue tuna and a blue bird, like blue jeans and blue angels, and like silver and the sky and the surf and then the sea breeze. I guess I touched nature this morning, but I’ll never really know for sure the reason of the colors, will I?  

Image: www.shutterstock.com 

Prompt #13

Saturday Meditation 
Today’s meditation was…a disaster. I came home exhausted, sat on my rug in my room, and closed my eyes. I used my blanket that goes on my bed as a rest for my sitting bones. I sat up straight, crossed my legs, rested my hands on the inners of my knees—palms up—and lifted my shoulders to my ears and back into place. I tried to empty my mind, repeating the word “stop” over and over again in my mind. That backfired. I think the word triggered my thoughts differently than I had intended. When I thought the word “stop,” I was speaking directly to my thoughts, to tell them to stop rolling, but my thoughts; they were talking directly to my body, forcing my bones to the desire to move. After about two minutes seconds or so my fingers started twitching, and my eyelids followed, and then my toes. “Stop” began to be things like, “what should I wear tomorrow?” or something maybe a little more sincere like, “ I cannot wait to see my dad tomorrow.” Then they began to do this...”Meditate Izzy, are you this pathetic that you cannot meditate?” Well, I guess I am... at least at this moment.” This momentum continued to excel. It was now about three, maybe four minutes in, and my eyes were begging me to open. I held them tight then shifted my thoughts to the force that I was laying on my lids. And right when I was in that un-explainable state of the un-explainable, I hear footsteps getting louder and louder and then Simon, my little brother, walked in and laughed…”freak.” That encounter, well it pretty much sums it up as a whole. I tried to ignore the sounds and refocus on the meditation. Then I hear another voice and more voices and more and more voices. I cannot tell you if they were real or not, but they were there, surrounding each breath. I opened my eyes, and signed with hopelessness. “Tomorrow, Izzy, tomorrow.  (Note to self: make a “Meditation in Progress” sign for my door...ASAP)

Image:http://www.google.com/imgre.imgurl=http://www.30daysofhealthandwellbeing.com.au/images/hw10/event/meditation.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.30daysofhealthandwellbeing.com.au/meditation-morning.htm&usg=__158RabAtiwxdfTmViN8Nohx1qg=&h=304&w=457&sz=83&hl=en&start=0&sig2=YBUvOrUiUHr3LM4eW8A0wQ&zoom=1&tbnid=V0jECZg4_ptwM:&tbnh=119&tbnw=181&ei=qbOoTMfBD8OqlAf01ISjDg&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dmeditation%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26safe%3Doff%26client%3Dsafari%26sa%3DN%26rls%3Den%26biw%3D1191%26bih%3D706%26tbs%3Disch:1&um=1&itbs=1&iact=hc&vpx=121&vpy=112&dur=500&hovh=183&hovw=275&tx=190&ty=100&oei=c7OoTMnCMsL58AaR-sGiDA&esq=18&page=1&ndsp=27&ved=1t:429,r:0,s:0