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The wild horses in my mind will not be tamed. That’s okay. They’re learning to rest.
When I made it a point earlier this year to simply sit still — every day — my mind resisted. Not this shit again, I could hear her say. I absolutely did NOT want to sit on the hard floor and stay still. I had things to do. YT videos to watch. Futzing around. Future worries. Grievances to grind. Tanks to fill. Books to dream. Meditation? Ugh. Sure, I could zone out with guided talks or pretty music, do yoga or read a great book. Sit in silence? Upright? I didn’t want the aches and pains and the feeling of this does nothing for me.
However, I came to the disturbing realization that I have been conquered by my mind — and didn’t like it. I mean, I do things with ease. I’m generally happy and relaxed (or so I tell myself). I’ve been blessed with many gifts and talents.
But man, I sit still — and then see just how out of control I’ve been.
Can’t imagine why I would want to avoid this.
I remember a voice — perhaps a dream or just one of those things that happen — saying, You’d be a genius if you weren't so manic.
It’s no wonder that sitting in silence can be so terrifying.
Yet the goal isn’t to conquer my mind. That’s impossible and oppositional. It’s not to ignore what comes up. It’s to sit with myself and say, Whew. I’m so tired.
Once I do that, the horses slow down a bit. There’s no corral being built, as I love my quick and imaginative brain — but rather a strong desire to step from the frantic, to observe and say, I’ve been living this way for a very long time.
I utilize quiet now — rather than fear it. Doesn’t mean that the struggle is gone. Yesterday’s sit was agony. I didn’t want to, even on a beautiful spring day. Every ache, pain and itch arose. I gave into them — so what? — and still sat there, feeling completely useless and wasting my time.
That’s me, the competitor — wanting to see results. Wanting the ease and flow of being a great meditator.
But as we say in yoga, It’s just yoga.
I love myself.
Sitting in silence is not an attempt to go beyond self into “denial or no self”. It deepens my love and appreciation. That’s enough.
I was born into a restrictive religion that said, Deny yourself. Can’t trust the heart. Sin as black as . . .
Well, you get the point. Didn’t have a chance with that belief system.
But that’s not me anymore. That’s not my life now. I made a conscious choice to leave that ideology long ago — and grateful to still have time to observe and correct the damage that was done to my beautiful, innocent mind.
Or maybe I was never damaged. All of it brought me to this point of awareness.
When I wrote I Was Once A Person, I spent months thinking about the idea of me walking with myself after death. If I were to die today and my consciousness — as it is right now with no change, no improvement — carried on, would I be able to walk alone? Would I be miserable, restless and frantic? No angels, no guidance. Would I have developed enough internal love, resilience and appreciation while here that I could comfortably walk the road of eternal exploration and say, Wow, I really love your company, Raven.
Could I? Yes.
There is so much avoidance built into religion. Either we hate ourselves, attempt to go beyond self into a greater consciousness or have a giant forgetfulness of this particular personality or saved from hell by an external force that pays the debt of our sin and lack of innocence, or eventually pay our karma in some realm.
All of those ideas may be true — but no one can prove it.
What I can prove is that it’s me with me, typing these words. It’s me in this body, conscious and aware of the helicopter, traveling over the house. It’s me, in my full humanness. I accept it. I accept this world of suffering — I’ve certainly been squeezed — but that doesn’t stop the exploration and process of releasing the grip, grit and survival mechanisms I’ve so carefully built over the years.
I have time. Tick tock. What will I do with it?
If I hate/deny/avoid, then I’ll probably end up in the hell I’ve nurtured here or perhaps TAINT, as Xandra found herself I Was Once A Person, wondering how to discover the exit. The clues were given in so many words — but instead she wandered THE LOOP, too intractable to shift her perspective.
She’ll get there.

It’s similar to writing a book. Once immersed, I make time every day (for the most part) to write. Almost like I have no choice. I do the same with “the sit”.
The benefits far outweigh aches, pains and restlessness, as a younger me would have completely fallen apart over the things I’ve recently had to face. My mind is calmer — though still a pack of wild horses — as I simply observe/connect to my breath. I don’t make it complicated or show up for a religious reward. I find myself looking forward to “the sit”, even with yesterday’s torture. Ah, well. Today was better, as the carpenter bees swirled around (all posture, no sting). I’ll keep going because there really is no negative. I’m super aware my experience as Raven is winding down — and this is where the investment is most valuable.
Just me, with me. No more running.