Sitting

Sitting. That is what I call it now. Just sitting. 

Such a simple thing to do, although it has been given layers of meaning by many different meditation traditions; traditions that echo forward and back through time and whisper to me from behind their veils of ritual. 

Sometimes I am sharing this time with Nick if he has stayed the night. Sitting knee to knee is our ritual to assure us that even though our morning routines don't flow in the same order, this will be a welcome and significant intersection in our journeys, before we turn our attention toward very different daily activity. 

Simply sitting quietly, the quiet filled with life-affirming micro-movements, omnidirectional fluid-body oozing and a light drifting of body energies. 

Sitting, whether with the welcome support of Nick's presence deepening beside me, or more often alone, I just sit and invite ease...and quiet. And listen without attachment to the small sounds around me, to the spinning thoughts. 

I teach myself not to get attached to what I think. 

I enjoy thinking. 

I enjoy letting thoughts go. 

I enjoy planning. 

I let go of the planning, and return to my breath. 

I breathe in and relax. 

I gather my belly together to support a smooth strong exhale. 

I let the breath in, deeper and wider, spreading my pelvis. 

At the turning point to the next exhale, I root my sit-bones, gather my pelvic floor up inside, and squeeze the air out from underneath. 

Let air in. Let it touch me deeper. 

Again squeeze air up and out, smoothing the flow, half the effort yielding more spacious length. 

Repeat. Repeat. What I repeat is what I learn.