[This is a “back-post”; it is a work-in-progress, so it may change partially or completely, with materials added or taken away, over the next several days or weeks. This is “day 6(a)” of my stay at the Vipassana Meditation retreat. For general comments and summary, see “day 11.”]
My internal monologue, which is so hard to shut up, patters on and on, as I try to focus on awareness of my breathing, on the respiration on my upper lip, on the sensations on my body. I often think “textually.” Because I type so much, so often. So sometimes (and not just during this meditation adventure, but always, in general) my monologue takes the form of text-on-screen or text-on-paper. I see the writing, as opposed to hearing my own voice, I guess.
As I tried to quiet my internal monologue, I had this weird visual of trying to shut up the text-on-mind’s-screen, and began to visualize dot-dot-dot: . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
And then, much to my amusement, the monkey in my brain (one of an infinite number of monkeys, perhaps) began to hit other keys: a long series of D’s, and then random characters. Very strange, very amusing. I almost began laughing out loud. And certainly, I wasn’t doing very well with the meditation task.
Later.
There is a cute cat that appears stranded or stray. It’s living in a barn just off the pathway between the mediation hall and the dormitory building. It’s been so cold these days… I worry about this cat. He (she?) comes out and purrs loudly, looking for attention. If you crouch down, it will try to climb into your lap. Seeking warmth or shelter. According to the code of silence, we’re not supposed to talk or interact with people, except the instructors… but I’m not sure about cats. I’m choosing to interact with the cat, when I see it. Petting it, and muttering hellos.
