Turn me off.

Specifically, I mean turn off the thoughts. They aren’t bad, necessarily, but they are  -- well – in my way.

When I was trying to get pregnant, and was pregnant, I did a lot of things that were good for me. I ate really well, of course didn’t drink, meditated, did yoga. Now, after years of saying I’d take an actual meditation class, I really did.

This is how it works: we sit for a while. During the sitting, I gently ask those pesky thoughts to leave. Then the new ones come. I ask them, too, to leave. I repeat this many, many times. I wonder how much time is left. I wonder about my to-do list. I ask these thoughts to leave (again). Then, once my legs are good and numb, it’s time for a walking meditation. Initially, I mistake this for a race, and get up and too fast and move too fast. So I focus on each step. I try not to look around, at these 50 people walking silently in rows, slow motion, heel-toe, heel-toe through a maze of yoga mats, blankets, wooden back rests and notebooks. This may  look  silly to someone looking at us from the sky. Or even from the next room.

Then the teaching. I’ve always wanted to learn more about Buddhism. I am what they call a recovering Catholic. I think deep down I’m really Jewish, but the part about them not believing in Jesus kind of throws me. Truth is, I really don’t know what I think.

When I get home, B asks how “class” was. “Great,” I say. “What did you learn?” “Well, I learned that sentient beings who have not been transformed have ignorant, defiled minds.” He takes this quite personally, and we get into an argument.

Perhaps it takes more than one night to have this meditation stuff and the studies sink in. Tonight I will try again, to sit, and let in who I am; to discover more about who and what I, and all us humans, are about.

FYI, I’m all the way off my background hormones. I’ve been taking them for years, and since they are about 2x the level of hormone replacement therapy, I thought it was time to wean myself off. It’s funny, as if my body was just holding out just in case we wanted to continue to try. As soon as we made the choice to stop, my cycles begin to change, and now they may be disappearing. It’s a strange feeling.

Photo: 'Dandelion' -- taken this week, on the trail by the house. Theme: Looking for Light.