Tuesday, March 13, 2012


I watch how I create it for myself. I worry about neglecting The Buddha Diaries--or giving it short shrift. This past weekend has not been great for my meditation practice. I have a wonderful excuse in Luka, but I know it's not his fault. It was my choice. This morning was no exception. I woke late, not yet accustomed to last Saturday night's time change; and George was already up and ready for his morning poop walk. What can a meditator do? Then there's the need for exercise, at least my (not entirely) daily walk. And my mind wanders on to the opening pages of my new book. I have been working on them sporadically, and need to take some serious time in order to get a sense of whether it's even possible. This week... well, Emily comes in this afternoon for office work; this evening we have our artists' group; tomorrow, Wednesday, is Luka day; and Thursday we leave for the beach and that "One Hour/One Painting" session. You see how it goes.

As I say, I do create all this for myself. Who's going to beat me up--except myself!--if I fail to get an entry written today? Two things at stake here: first, I have become perhaps too superstitious about the practice. There is something about the every day-ness of it that keeps me feeling fulfilled when the post is done, and somehow incomplete when it is not. Is this addiction? And then I have this fear of losing you, my readers; of boring you; of not living up to what I imagine you expect of me. I know it's a bit absurd, a bit obsessive, but there you go. For years, before I discovered the blogosphere, I missed that sense of connection with readers. Having established one, it has become enormously important for me to keep the communication going. Important, in the larger view, to feel that I can be of service, if only to a handful of readers who connect with what I write and find that it resonates in their lives in some significant way. From the responses I get--not those in the "comments" on the blog, certainly, because they are few; but those that come in other ways--I know this happens, and it brings me enormous joy and satisfaction.

So here I am, meandering on again. I really do have little time today, and a lot that needs to get done. Well, a lot that I choose to do, a lot I imagine needs to get done. The world would not, honestly, come to an end if I stayed in bed all day. George would like that...

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