Just finished sitting. Had planned to meet up with my sangha for an outdoor meditation this morning, which happens once a season. This would have been my first. However, I missed them; did not have specific enough info about place.

I browsed a Goodwill bookstore and bought some used CDs and books, then headed for Starbucks, where the sangha planned to gather after.

It was nice to make some connection with David, John, Sue, William, and one other man whose name I’ve forgotten.

Our conversation was wide-ranging–Hill Country geology, the Appamada web site, the steam train, a bodhidharma photo, Neuro-Linguistic Programming, a documentary about the Lost Boys, a new quick method of trauma recovery that involves positioning the body just so and allowing the muscles to shake, the book Buddha’s Brain, and so much more interesting stuff.

Two things: BookPeople has sold out of Buddha’s Brain, but a truckload is coming out this week. That means the first printing in November sold out really quickly. (I love the description from a reviewer: “This is your brain on dharma!”)

And–It is a rare sunny January afternoon outside.

Today I sat in siddhasana the whole 30 minutes. The five minutes yesterday was a warmup; today I allowed the discomfort to fill my awareness. It quickly faded to background discomfort. It is strange and counterintuitive to go toward pain instead of avoiding it.

But, you know, maybe it just wants attention. “This is new. I’m not used to it. It’s not comfortable.” “Yes, I understand.”

How much has the direction “away from” run my life? Probably a lot more than I feel really good about admitting to!

Ooh. I’m doing it now, aren’t I?

Okay. Avoiding is comfortable. This year of sitting is not just about sitting. It is also about actively exploring my comfort zone.

In the case of tight muscles and fascia, I know that holding a stretch for longer than a couple of minutes brings a deeper, fuller release. I can direct my attention toward discomfort to allow my body to do whatever flows from that. It is a lot smarter than my conscious mind, most of the time.

Quick post today. I sat this morning and am eating while blogging.

(Aside: I just cut open an avocado, and it was flawless, perfect. Wow. I sliced it and am eating it anyway.)

I’m going to a yoga workshop way north at 1:30 and have 15 minutes to write in.

I realized today that committing to sitting every day is training. I work with my body/mind by doing it. I am training my awareness, and also training my body to sit still for 30 minutes with my back erect and unsupported by a chair or wall.

Today I felt pressure on my face, energy pressing to get in or out, I couldn’t tell which. A pleasant sensation. A slight achiness over left brow called my attention briefly. Later, I noticed it had transformed into this pleasant pressure.

If light had a feeling, that’s what the energy feels like.

I sat in siddhasana for about five minutes, left heel stacked above right, pressing into groin. I noticed some good feelings in my left thigh. When discomfort kept pulling my attention, I moved into sukhasana.

I remembered a yoga technique that was helpful toward the end of the session, when I was feeling the weight of my upper body pressing down where my spine meets my sacrum.

On an inhalation, let the upper body rise as if the lungs are a helium balloon. This puts space between the vertebrae and creates the sensation of lightness in the upper body.

On the exhalation, stay floating. Keep doing this.

First I became aware of discomfort. I spent a little time accepting it, just feeling it, noticing the quality that my mind labels “unpleasant”. Just that lessens it.

And then I found a way to move discomfort into ease. Dukha to sukha.

Today I waited until evening to sit. Waited for the band next door to end its rehearsal. Worked in my kitchen while waiting. Finally they finished. Same song as last time.

Started sitting in virasana (hero’s pose) supported by the zafu, then about halfway through switched to baddha konasana (bound angle) so that feeling could return to my feet and ankles.

My lumbar area did feel better at the end of the 30 minutes than it does when I sit in sukhasana (easy pose). In Sanskrit, sukha means ease, and dukha means suffering. I have also heard these words translated as expansion and contraction.

So when I sit, I can just switch to a different sitting posture to transform dukha into sukha!

“Whole body awareness” has morphed into awareness centered in my living, changing body-mind system. My attention wanders from the narrow (that ringing in my ears) to broad (all the sounds coming into my ears), narrow (the tingling in my ear canals), broad (darkness), narrow (the point between my eyebrows), broad (feeling vibrant), narrow (traffic noise), and so on.

Internal, external, narrow, broad, sight, sound, feeling–awareness slides through the twelve states of attention without much stickiness. These are patterns in a background of awareness.

Awareness is like the x between instances of attending. When I become conscious of it, x shifts to being an object of attention.

This is very, very sad to me. I really enjoy the x between instances of attending when I can just be in it. I feel so alive and vibrant and full of love when I’m in this state.

I miss it when it’s gone. I don’t know how to make it happen, which is probably a good thing or I might be doing it all the time!

I wonder if this is maybe a little bit what heroin addiction is like.

When I woke, my left piriformis muscle was feeling really tight. (If you don’t know anatomy, it is a pain in the ass.) I think of this piriformis tightness as the last bit of healing from scoliosis and that 1996 car wreck that sent me on this path.

Looked it up in my yoga anatomy book and decided to do a long, supported supta baddha konasana (reclining cobbler’s pose) before sitting today. Then went about my nonlinear swooping-through-time-on-an-unstructured-day-off-work. Made breakfast, washed some dishes, started a list of things to do, which feels so virtuous even when I don’t do them. Made tea. Checked email. Checked Facebook. Made lunch.

To do baddha konasana, I sit with spine erect and soles of feet together, letting knees drop to the side. Supta means lying down. Supported means I place pillows under my knees and a bolster under my spine, keeping my seat on the ground. I prop one end of the bolster up so I’ll be reclining about 20 degrees.

I set the timer for 15 minutes, put a David Whyte CD on, recline, and cover my eyes with an eye mask, letting my arms and hands drop.

Ahhhhhhhhh. Melting. Turn David Whyte off. This calls for silence.

When that timer goes off, I decide to do my 30 minutes of sitting in just this position.

Body scan: whoa, gravity is different like this! I feel so open along my midline, like a dog exposing its belly.

Like I did the other day, I feel tipsy, loopy, happy. I vaguely notice, “Hey, when I think, I feel like this, and when I don’t think, I feel like this.” I feel excited to notice this distinction, but I don’t really want to elaborate. Too much work.

When the timer goes off, I move the pillows and bolster and take a nap.

Now my sober self says this distinction is very, very important.

Ha ha ha ha ha!

Maybe I won’t do my daily meditation in supta baddha konasana. It’s yoga. It’s not sitting.

Now I’m going to do one thing on my to-do list.