Friday, March 9, 2012


I woke this morning early with a head full of ideas. Could not get back to sleep. Went to meditate and struggled mightily to get focused and concentrate on the breath; it's hard for me, at such moments, not to write. My brain so badly wants to get to work. It finds a beautiful starting point, it strings together the words that are exactly right, and keeps insisting that if I fail to write them down now, this very moment, they will be forgotten. I try to reassure it that even if these precise words disappear, there will be others. Not now, I say. We'll get it done, together, later. But my brain distrusts such wisdom.

So the mind gets to be a battleground. Wisdom managed to win out this morning, but only by a hair, and after long mano a mano. I did get settled, finally, and am thankful for the few minutes of relative peace.

I'm thinking about a new book. Heaven knows, I need one, so soon after "Persist" and "Mind Work." But I have an idea. I have been aware, of course, that each of those two books speaks to a different readership, and what I have in mind might just succeed in bringing those two together. An exciting prospect. It also allows me to pursue the path of sharing my enthusiasm for conscious living.

This morning, I started on the "Preface." That's my excuse for today's short shrift in The Buddha Diaries...


Richard said...

I'm finding it a struggle to focus on my writing at the moment. I have plenty of time now, but there are so many distractions. I am trying for a post a day, but I'm struggling already.

My other problem is that I can guarantee that unless I write them down, the ideas will vanish.

I feel a bit better knowing I'm not alone in going through this sort of internal struggle. :-)

Anonymous said...

I thought your excuse would be waiting it the chilly spring night for Michael Heizer's "Levitating Mass" at LACMA until 5 am. That knocked us for a loop.


PeterAtLarge said...

Good to hear from you, Richard. I think one of the difficulties we encounter is the feeling that we have to have "something to say." I find it useful, often, just to latch on to the end of a thread--a few words, perhaps, that arrive from nowhere--and allow it to unravel. Nothing to do, nothing to say, no point to make unless it makes itself.

Hey, Stuart. Did the rock arrive already? I just found out this morning about the journeys of the grapefruit. Would like to know more...