My Bach-ish Brain

Okay, I got a little sidetracked. I had a small ischemic stroke last October, and it’s taken me a bit to let my brain and body settle. But I was reminded again recently of the numerous benefits of mindfulness meditation (http://www.apa.org/monitor/2012/07-08/ce-corner.aspx), so gratefully, I went back to my cushion.

 

Before the stroke, meditation was a challenge for my hyper-busy brain (Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche compares one’s thoughts while sitting in meditation to a wild horse that has to be gently reined in. I would compare my post-stroke thoughts to a HERD of wild horses, all running in different directions and attempting to trample me in the process). Since the stroke, I sometimes feel like Sisyphus—rolling my meditation cushion up the mountain, only to have it roll back down, over and over and over and over, ad infinitum. This is probably because, while the stroke didn’t affect my ability to think, it did affect my ability to focus and concentrate. But this is a common challenge for meditators at all stages of their practice, stroke or not, so up the mountain we go!

 

In hindsight, sitting this morning reminds me of a Bach cantata, with its constantly moving, staccato chords. My inner dialogue, that little incessant voice that no amount of duct-tape will silence, went something like this:

 

Breath.

Don’t think about your breath.

Breath.

Incense smoke is like breath.

Incense smoke is like a dragon’s breath.

Trees blowing are like breath.

Breath.

Breath.

My foot is cramping.

Breath.

Why was I taught to keep my eyes open?

Breath.

So I don’t fall asleep.

Breath.

Relax your jaw.

Relax your foot.

Stop thinking about relaxing and just relax.

Breath.

You're thinking about the way you breathe.

Don't count inhales and exhales.

Breath.

Seriously? Are you waiting for the timer to chime?

Breath.

I should wash that dog blanket.

Breath.

 

It was a lightning round, I tell you…20 whirring minutes of this internal chatter, gently bringing my attention back to my breath (without thinking about my breath), chatter, gently re-directing my attention, chatter, etc.

 

For now at least, this is the story of my daily practice with my new, loosely re-wired brain. But I’m not discouraged, because in the Big Picture, I know we’re all just babies learning and re-learning the same lessons. I FEEL better (physically, emotionally, spiritually) when I practice, and that’s enough for me. And a little Bach-brained is not a bad way to BE…