Good Grief 134

Sometimes I think that watching the shape of my days must be like watching an amoeba.
Today I perfected various triangulations - starting at home, visiting a friend who was out, heading for a walk that I didn't do, and then across the county to do something entirely different. Bit like a Monty Python sketch .. and now for ... etc.
Interesting, the same triangulations took place internally as well as externally.
Talk of the dungeons and the prisoners there, the Wall and the other worlds ... all led me back to Tara Brach this morning which reminded me of 'the trance'. I have read and listened to her before. And now I listen again and realise I had slipped back into my trance, or at least, the one that I was aware of ... and now I become aware of another.
This distilled as I went off on my travels. I sat and thought of her quote about the Dalia Llama (realised spelling mistake, but rather like it) being asked 'when was he happiest?' and him thinking a while and then smiling and saying, 'I think, now'. How cool is that!  And then, yet another triangulation and meeting of the same theme - a talk about how we need art to help us emerge out of the confines of our own minds. Otherwise, we have the problem that we are trying to use our minds to develop beyond what constrains us (the trance again). And that feeds back to my previous point about not being able to force insight. There is no formula or prescription. That connected to today and the wonder and radical nature, and the humanity of storytelling, and playfulness.
We tell our stories and believe them. Stories that we start with, that we adopt, that we are given, told, believe. Every moment, every day, every year, and a lifetime.

Further postscript - I was also so aware yesterday of how irritable I am. It relates to this and the difficulty of being around others ... it is another multi-layered story ... too much here. But today I was struggling with the sound of people, so many of them I felt a bit panicky, the voices were jarring and I was sat next to a woman who was competing for the nodding dog competition (and no, she didn't have Parkinsons) and had to speak in stage whispers with her friend. I was so irritable ... tried to accommodate it but it was a struggle, as was the general throng. I feel hugely apart.

As I am preparing for work I thought about what I was thinking about last week - it is interesting being away from work for a week and then back again. Realising that it is arduous ... and so many stories.
In just 3 days ... so, so many stories .. and so, so much stuff ...