Day 16 - The Yin and Yang of The Here and Now

My reading list at the moment (now that I just finished a biography of Babe Ruth that I've been reading along the arc of baseball season) is an interesting yin yang (what others might perhaps choose to call schizophrenic) of Thomas Merton and Hunter Thompson ("Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail")... my musical choices tend to flip between Springsteen and Bernstein (with a little Cockburn thrown in for good measure)... and my physical activities struggle with each other across the divide between running and sitting.

This is me two weeks in with 24 Days left "...to Life." It's not terribly different from the delicate balance between success and failure, life and death, asceticism and debauchery, or abundance and insolvency that I have struck through most of my life. This time though, I am noticing that the intentionality of examination, and the accompanying attempt to lay it all out in public does put a razor edge to the whole thing. It pushes me up on days when I might be more likely to go under and it forces me forward when I would rather sit on the barstool and have another beer (not that that doesn't still happen on occasion, just to be clear).

I possess a definite bi-polar streak. I believe it to be medically related to my epilepsy, and it tends to be mostly manageable, though I'm really not sure whether the dilantin I take for the epilepsy affects it or not.

The balance tends to be tenuous nonetheless. What works for me though is focus... CONSTANT focus. If I let my guard down I can lose my balance in seconds. What I was working on, so hard and so enthusiastically, only moments before can be lost, forgotten, as if it never existed. The focus keeps me awake... and alive.

Sitting... centeredness... reflection. These things keep me steady.

At the same time, if I become too settled, if I sit on the cushion for too long, or move too slowly (for whatever reason) through the day, a deadening lethargy comes on; my consciousness feels like it's shrouded; my senses go numb. Needless to say, this doesn't work for me either.

Action is necessary. While I am very fond of the meditative suggestion, "Don't just do something, sit there," sooner or later, either to stem off entropy, or obtain sustenance for the body, one must indeed move. At that point a decision is called for, and a direction required. I like the movement. I hunger for action.

When I sit, I feel the glow... When I run, I feel the fire.

What works... is the dance. Balanced between light and dark, action and non-action, running and waiting I seem to be finding my life.

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There are presently five ravens gathered outside my front door (I am NOT kidding!).