Are you present? I mean, really present?

white rabbit with watch

"I'm late! I'm late!"

Day 1. Are you here right now? I mean, really, really here? This is something I struggle with constantly. As someone who is rarely bored, I have a restless mind. I’m constantly onto the next thing, or the last thing, or just some other thing. I wander, and drift, and spin, and chew on things. But rarely can I be here, now.

This is my task for the week. I am to be present. Here, in my skin.

It’s harder for me than it sounds. Even in yoga class I have a hard time concentrating on the present. I want to focus on my neighbor, on what I’m going to eat next, on how Postal Service was a good band, on how Sammi is not a sweetheart, she’s a fucking bitch, and she did not beat JWoWW’s ass at all, and why does that bother me so much? Fucking Jersey Shore, such trash, why do I even care? What the fuck is wrong with me? Serious, that’s like snorting Sweet’n’Low packets. Terrible idea, burns like hell, and no high. Just gives you the same postnasal drip as meth. I mean, so I’ve heard. I’ve said too much.

This was my yoga practice this morning: I bring it back to the breath. One, two. In and out. Smooth. Breath feels like water. Try not to think about water. Keep it on the breath. Try not to smell the breath of the woman next to me. Keep it on the breath. Try not to look at Sparrow. She’ll be wanting to cut her hair soon. Her hair wants cutting. That’s what the Mad Hatter said. That’s a personal remark, and it’s rude, that’s what Alice said. Breathe, breathe. Ujayii breath. Like the ocean, not like Darth Vader. Darth Vader. How tall was he? I’ll bet Kea knows. Who’s the tallest of my friends? Miss DeLoop is 5’11”, and Zorro Smitty, how tall is he? BREATHE. Idiot. That’s not kind. I have better arms than that girl does. She’s more flexible than me. Why is she looking at me? Checking out my guns, eh? If you didn’t skip your upward dog, you’d have pythons, too. Breathe, for Chrissakes. Darth Vader would kill the Mad Hatter, that’s for sure. He wouldn’t fuck around. Just crush his windpipe from across the table.

Sigh. This went on for an hour and a half.

I am hoping with some practice this week will be better. Less full of mind chatter, more full of stillness, presence. More full of me and my real life. Hopefully the five minutes of meditation in the morning and at night will help. Maybe giving up delicious, nutritious caffeine. It seems to be all the rage among my friends. Not going to happen today, though.

So yeah, this week I will: practice yoga every day, journal my food, meditate in the morning and at night, and be fucking present. I will work on being inside of my skin all the time. When I find I am not here, I will snap myself back inside my body.


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