What a good year.
About practice, every day’s been a practice but formal
sittings were few.
No wonder that this little heart gets worked up harder more
often lately. I still remember the time when I had been more expressive
outwardly, that was the time when every little thing gets this little heart
worked up and every bit of feelings had an outlet. Then during those intensely
meditative years, I’ve accustomed to a less reactive mode of living, so much so
that even when the past year had been lacking in practice somehow I’ve been
able to keep much under control.
Lately I’ve realized that even then, when the stakes are
high and feelings intense, all that this little heart wants is just to be
heard. To rant. To be understood.
While at the same time it continues to seek to understand.
To listen. And to accept.
Yet it hides. It runs. And it stabs itself.
What a crazy heart.
