Resistance. I am awash with resistance.
I have a major, holy crap kind of headache. My mom warned me about this, but I really didn’t think it would be a big deal since I only drink one cup of coffee a day most days. And I am beyond exhausted since I did not sleep at all last night. I was rolling around my bed almost as fast as my brain was running circles around itself. Filled with projections about what was to come.
Resistance. I am awash with resistance.
The day is scheduled down to the minute from the 5:30am wake up bell to the last sitting meditation of the day at 9:15pm. There’s an hour and fifteen minutes of yoga every morning after two sitting and one walking meditations. The afternoon is pretty much just alternating sitting and walking every hour until dinner at 5pm and then the evening is more sitting and more walking. I thought maybe I’d have more time to myself.
Resistance. I am awash with resistance.
I really thought for some reason that I would just be able to pick up where I left off after the huge New Year’s epiphanies. That I would be able to come to this safe and sacred place and just be. But this day has been really hard. There is so much resistance in me. To the yoga, to the focus, to the being. Just resistance.
Resistance. I am awash with resistance.
I collapsed into pose of the child sobbing halfway through the yoga class this morning. All I want to do is hide in my room. Every time I sit I fidget and twitch and my mind makes up things to ramble on and on about. I want a cigarette. Not because I need one, but because I want to do something rebellious. I just remembered that I have a Milky Way bar in my purse. Score!!
Resistance. I am awash with resistance.
Everyone around me is so still. And their minds are seemingly so much more disciplined and obedient than mine. I’m letting my mom down. I don’t belong here. I don’t deserve to be here.
Resistance. I am awash with resistance.
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