Forever Tainted

It wasn’t long ago that the word ‘meditate’ induced images of fat Buddhist men sitting in absolute stillness and silence on some beach somewhere ignoring everything around them. Sitting still with your eyes closed is about all I understood it to be, and how fucking boring is that? Now that I understand it a little better, there is absolutely nothing boring about meditating at all. In fact, meditation is a challenge, a struggle, a lesson in the art of doing nothing.

As you silence your body’s motions, your mind tends to scream louder. Meditation is the art of silencing the body and the mind, recognizing your thoughts as they come and letting them go each time you realize your mind is wandering. Meditation is being in your body as a true observer of what’s happening to it, while you live in it without trying to change it.

The results, I’m finding of consistent, daily meditation is a calmer nature, less insomnia (in fact I haven’t had to take a sleeping pill since I started), and greater tolerance for pain and discomfort (both emotional and physical). And of course, I’m finding it far easier to tolerate, accept and embrace stressful situations.

I figured since I’ve been going on about it for a while now, I might as well give those of you who view meditation the same way I did up until recently, a little insight as to what it really means to meditate (to me). For more clinical information on meditation, see Wikipedia here.

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The Ali Tattoo… With my recent blog makeover I included the henna-inspired tattoo I drew for my son. I drew the floral borders first by hand, and then in Illustrator. I intend to expand on it a fair bit before the next tattoo date, on March 3rd. What you see here and now will soon frame my shoulder and stretch down my arm.

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We have finally filed our taxes. I’ve renewed my car insurance for the next year. I filled out the organ donor form, and Lars’ is waiting for his signature. Things are feeling pretty complete these days.

What do you think of the new design?

Exactly one month from today, it will be a year since I left the United Arab Emirates and returned home. Even though I said it, I don’t know that when I left I believed I’d be gone this long. I’ve probably done more growing up in the 11 short months I’ve been home, than I did in 12 years I spent in the UAE. Things are real here. The good is true, not plastic; the bad is graphic and cold, rather than sugarcoated and lied about.

Five months ago, I found myself a good job, in a good accounting firm that ironically is run by women, and women alone. Approximately ten months ago, my mother started to lose her mind. Things have been just as dramatic here as they had in the UAE. Just two days ago, I talked to my 5 year old son, who is still in the UAE with his father - where I hope to have the strength, the means, and the stability here with my mom, to return eventually.

The gripes are different here. The storyline & characters have altered a little. But the tone has not changed all that much. And since this is my life we’re talking about, I doubt the tone will ever change beyond recognition.

I have decided to start writing again. But I’ve decided this book is going to be more about me, and what I’m experiencing, what I’ve experienced, what I aspire for, and what I want to write (as always). I’ve decided this book will be a real journal, and not just one conceived to inflame, infuriate and entertain; that by no means, means I will not get inflamed or enraged, and I will not entertain... Who the hell can predict such things?

The point is, this is going to be my journal. My real journal. You’re welcome along for the ride, but keep in mind that just because the door is open, doesn’t mean I invited you in. Respect the fact that what I share here are pieces of me. You don’t have to like me. I ask only that you respect me and my little place here.