And you don't even have to picture it, totally, the picture at the left is me ready to meditate. My headphones even look sort of angelic, like a halo.
The funny thing is it is a patience meditation--15 minutes of focus to cultivate patience. I am feeling an impatient with myself; I have no idea what I am going to write in my blog tonight and it is irritating me; making me feel all high strung.
Anyway, the meditation begins and instantly I feel patient, thanks to Ross Rayburn telling me that impatience is just immature patience or something. Then, in the next instant, through the noise silencing headphones, I hear some banging noises.
Impatience is back. But it's only just immature patience I tell myself!
I decide to squeeze my eyes tighter and the banging stops; only to be replaced by a real live child shouting at me and over me.
It is very startling to be shouted at and over, friends.
Anyway, I had to remove my headphones to make out the words being shouted at and over me. This made me impatient because I don't want to spend more than 15 minutes meditating because after I meditate I want to get back to Twitter to follow all my true crime stories (my not-so-secret obsession) and write this blog.
But, I remind myself, I am just like super immature and not really impatient.
Apparently, the shouter was locked in the bathroom (the door sticks) and was irate I did not rescue them. I blissfully say, "Well, darling, you rescued yourself. You should feel victorious."
The shouter said, "The only thing I feel is that my mother does not listen to me or care."
I cannot argue because in that moment she is totally correct, I DO NOT CARE I JUST WANT TO BE PATIENT.
I return to my meditation and then it keeps pausing because there are "Meta Quest" notifications popping up and one of my children is in the Meta Verse or something and the stupid app won't stop.
But then it does and Ross says that we should not resist impatience, we should invite it in. And at this point, I am OVER HIM.
I did not invite any of this in. But, I close my eyes again and begin to focus on my breath. . .
Which is suddenly knocked out of me because the smallest child, not suddenly back from the Meta Verse, jumps on the bed and says "ICE CREAM ICE CREAM ICE CREAM."
He does not even use sentences or verbs. He just chants like this.
And you know what? I asked him to save me scoop to have after I wrote this blog. I'll save patience for a day when I am feeling more mature.
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