Yesterday I wondered whether meditation is easier when you’re really tired, if perhaps the mind is slower and less rarin’ to go. Yesterday I was well-rested when I sat down to meditate. Today, not so much. (Meditation wasn’t “easier,” either.) I woke up way too early, knew it was useless to try to sleep some more because I’d have to get up soon enough anyway, debated with myself about getting up, finally did, but still feel relatively comatose. Also sticky or too warm. It was hot yesterday, today will be hotter. The A/C was on, but we keep it at about 75-76ºF, so it’s not exactly crisp, not especially cool for sleeping. The humid edge is off, though. At least there’s that. I dislike this weather.
When I woke up my teeth hurt (which is unusual) and I wondered whether I had been grinding them.
What if I wrote only two pages today, instead of three? Who would know? I would, but I won’t tell on myself, and no one else would care.
Is it possible to grind one’s teeth without actually grinding them? By that I mean: can one mimic and execute the muscular jaw-tightening without letting the teeth touch, in that way producing a similar sensation of pain?
Phantom bruxism, phantom writing.
Yesterday we walked, once a long walk to the park and back through town with a stop at T. for iced coffee, another time later briefly through the neighborhood. Both times we walked past outdoor deck and patio parties, and I reflected on how we’re not hosting parties – nor attending them. It’s astonishing how anti-social we’ve become. Most times it hardly bothers me, but sometimes a kind of panic erupts, reminding me that this isn’t normal or good in any way. Since I’m not especially fond of quite a few people here, though, I don’t know what to do about it. There are a few people I like, but that quality of liking these few is too inundated by my feelings of indifference to most, and actual, active dislike of some. My focus is on the wrong things (that is, I’m the one who needs to change), but I continue along the same track. I really don’t like how things are shaping up with the offspring – one in Berlin, the other in Vancouver, and W. and I stuck in the middle, far from both. Not what I had in mind when I became a mother.
I think today I shall write just two pages. They’re rubbish, but the point is to write. However, the quality of my mind is so degraded this morning, I really don’t think a third page should be sacrificed.