Full disclosure: after my last post about the importance of a regular practice, I did exactly NO home practices of any kind last week. No morning yoga, no meditation, and after a frenzy of writing on Monday, no writing for a whole week!


So, I’m back to it this week. Really!

And while it’s tempting to ruminate on the whys and what ifs and fall into the familiar habit of self-flagellation, I am going to just try to accept that I made decisions last week NOT to introspect in a formal way. Let’s be clear, whether or not I sat down and deliberately weighed the pros and cons of meditating or writing, I was making decisions NOT to do them.

Introspective practices are tools for discovering the unconscious. They help uncover and shine light upon feelings and mental processes that are influencing you beneath your awareness.

I’m not going to say that I might not have benefited from sitting a few times last week, but I will say that reconnecting with my father opened floodgates from my unconscious mind. I don’t think I needed a lot of extra help acknowledging the feelings and memories and assumptions and grudges and regrets that came crashing through. They now litter my mental landscape like bits of trash and broken glass washed up on the shore — evidence of once useful items, now either obsolete after the beatings of waves over time or dangerous to the touch. I’m on active clean up duty now. And it’s so interesting.


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