I will cry to thee and cry to thee and cry to thee, until the milk of thy kindness boils up – Rumi
Another sleepless night, with skin on fire. The itching is insane. There are times when I don’t think I can cope anymore. I feel for the people that suffer eczema or psoriasis or have fungal infections. As night passes I rub in tiger balm, memories of my sister pregnant and us holidaying together in Mozambique enter my mind. I am getting used to the sounds that signify day is breaking. I am familiar with the bungalow so that when I take a cold shower during the night I don’t have to put a light on and disturb Pete. Our little cat is still doing well. As long as we can get it strong again it is likely that it will survive. There are plenty of bugs, ghekos and birds (;o() for it to hunt.
My morning meditation is disturbed, my coffee (I quit trying not to have one) seemed to be repeating on me. Circular breathing felt forced, my pauses not spontaneous. I realize the no thoughts part of meditation I can accomplish relatively easily (changing on the circumstances of the day/week) Interiorisation and sublimination of the senses (pratyhara) I am familiar with and can move into the practice of with grace. It’s the opening the heart where I get stuck….I want to resonate pure joyful energy (shakti) and take that joy to the world. Not just my love, my bliss, my passion, my enjoyment. It can be everyone’s. All that is beautiful I offer to god (me/you/all). I decide to stand, standing is my go to when sitting is not working. Boom in that moment that I stand nothing existed. I did not exist, my body did not exist, my bites did not exist. I was light radiating and vibrating at a speed that produced a body but none of it was real or solid. Like a magnet pulling filaments into place, I was just energy vibrating and I stayed like that until the gong sounded and I died onto the floor. There is nothing to see, I am without sound and body. I am everywhere. I can be here or here, above or below.
Heart bursts open for a second of pure love!
I find myself back in the pharmacy. I’m not happy. The lady asks how long this has been and I utter 6 days. I am shocked at the sound of my voice. It seems to come from somewhere else. Distorted, not mine, loud, intrusive. She gives me another cream with instructions to rub it in a lot.
We practice a beautiful love meditation, I want more but I am tired. The exhilaration each evening from the studies make it hard to settle, combined with the itching mean I don’t think I have slept 10 hours in 6 days. I am meditating sat in a chair and I begin to doze off. I jerk awake so suddenly that I give myself whiplash. I have tiger balm…nobody panic.