Every day, for over five and a half years
I have shown up for my meditation practice.
I have become predictable.
I will rise from my comfy bed
sit upright on a cushion filled with buckwheat hulls,
set a timer, close my eyes and breathe.
Every time I have felt grateful for my practice,
for the stillness and the peace
and the perspective it brings.
For the gift of discipline
and the sense of stability
in a chaotic world…
For the proof of my existence
beyond my body and the outer world
and the realization
that I always have exactly what I need…
I needed to cultivate discipline
to maintain my practice,
and now that it is there,
I realize that this discipline can help
in other domains of my life.
I began writing daily
because of my daily meditation.
I saw that I can all at once
trust the unfolding
of this miraculous life AND
simultaneously reach out
for that which is dear to my heart.
Who every knew that something so simple
could be so valuable,
When the NaPoWriMo prompt suggested writing a poem about something that happens over and over again, my mind immediately went to my meditation, because that happens every day.