Practice and Rest

Humans love acts of purpose. We are wired to expand our comfort and build things together. The doing in life is important, because the clock is ticking. Life is short, but our legacy as a generation reverberates long into the future.  Regardless of my motivation, this efforting energy naturally dissipates, and what am I left with? Our society does not value the time needed to be with life, doing absolutely nothing.

The sun is setting when I allow the darkness of self criticism to echo through my mind, when what would help is a warm, long sleep. Sometimes I have night vision and sometimes I am desperately afraid of the dark. The dream state before the sun rises in all of its darkness is the information we need, our unconscious realm of instructions. 

It is available in the day. I remember once walking around at Garrison Institute on meditation retreat, grieving profoundly, working with the backlog of pain I never spoke, or felt, or allowed myself to accept. Some of the statues and gardens on the property are clearly visited often, the plants cleared, the path visible, the site covered in trinkets and prayers. Other areas are overgrown, like the maze I walked through, the bush branches reaching into the path and soaking my hips and thighs with morning dew as I kept walking, unfazed. Both the kept and the unkept paths bring insight. 
This same contrast exists in the paths of the mind. I am interested in which of the monuments in my mind I am choosing to visit everyday, and which may be overgrown. There is no telling how long it will take to set my foot back on the tender routes that barely have a path. Curiosity can be enough to remember some of this wild space of my mind is by design. There is nothing to be developed, despite the strong messages that I need to do more. Imagining the highways of my mind with vegetation, the life force of the earth breaking through their hard surface to the water, air, and sun it needs to redefine the landscape. The work of dreams, simply bearing witness.