Meditation on Waiting ~ Short Story

Not sure why I need to write this down.  This is the third lifetime I have shared this.

I clasp my wings, put on socks and go back into the world. Maybe this time it will do some good.

By my account, 18,250 days wasted from waiting around for things to change.

You are timelessness stuck in time.
You are consciousness waiting to re-awake.
You are complaining, bragging and avoiding life at all times.

The problem with waiting is all the time wasted.  Nothing good has come from all this waiting. A wasted life of “what if”’ and “could-have-beens” is all that remains. A mind filled up with non-memories, non-dreams and a constant echo. Days pass by and nothing happens but the waiting…days are filled up with sitting on the sofa, then moving outside to watch the grass grow, counting the leaves on the trees.

I flush the toilet, wash my hands. Antibacterial soap…I can never remember if I should stop using it. Does it kill too much of the good stuff? I dry my hands with a white cotton towel.

Mixed blessings of truths and tasks that you must wait for the end. You must wait for the light to grow dark so it can then once again transform back into light.  This process must be repeated till eternity. Every being gets the opportunity to hold the understanding that we are trapped in a box named “reality”.

Keep your faith. Question your beliefs.  This alone will save you from the transmigration.

There is no salvation in the waiting. There is no solitude found in the waiting.  What is left is only the question. The same answer running across the brain waves. Thoughts dissolve into heartbeats. Heartbeats are transformed into a curse. You become afflicted with the remainder of the time left to wait.

The Beatles, White album. This will do. I slide the vinyl record out of its sleeve. I place the needle in the black groove and I listen. Lennon got it right. That’s why he was shot. Deep loss for all. McCartney came close, Harrison eventually got it right. Ringo, drummer died on his own vomit.

I practice the “Waiting”. I will sit on a meditation cushion for 25mins, bell to bell, waiting, breathing, repeating, sitting in nothingness. I get off the mat. I want a drink, not water to quench my thirst but bourbon to numb the mind.  Mindfulness is a tool to be a better cog in the wheel, to become better at being this thing called human.

I chop vegetables, I focus. I wash the dishes, I focus. I brush my teeth, I focus. This is how I fill the empty space. Mindfulness is a needed trick to waste time.

I have always been fascinated with how society deals with the waiting. The world is at all times falling apart and at all times healing itself, growing anew. Rebuilding constantly arising as if there are twin Gods of creation and deconstruction at work.

The Beatles White album, side three, not very good for what most people consider to be their masterpiece.  Side one, “Dear Prudence”...it makes coming back here worth it.

Life is spent being mildly interested in what is going on around you.  At all times thinking that they have the problem, it's never “I”. The problem "they” have is that…”they” have to watch my suffering, my suffering is greater than yours.  Suffering is not a contest. Comprehending suffering is a pursuit. This lesson is never learned. That suffering is akin to love. No matter how great or horrible, it's all equal. The suffering of a child born into starvation is no greater than the suffering of a child born into privilege. Suffering is an experiential exercise in the “waiting”.

Grace = Luck…Luck is grace, take notice.

There are many different ways someone can commit suicide, but the act of leaving one's own body seems to be the only act of suicide that society cares about.

The suicide in waiting is the greatest sin...to be alive is a gift that is created specifically for you.

To sit and waste a life to complain about the whatnot’s and the don’t-haves is worse than if you nailed Jesus to the cross yourself. Living suicide, that is a form of torture that causes the waiting to happen for lifetimes to come.

Give me a good narcissist that is a person who enjoys life. Narcissists...they see light.

You would think that I would miss sitting in the clouds…watching and listening. The life in the soil is so much more enjoyable.  The soil is in constant movement. The soil never waits.

Consciousness, awakening, Christ, Buddha: call it whatever you like.  I call it the WAITING.

Until next time…..

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da