rumination beyond the school gates

Rumination arises for the teacher at about 4 pm on a Sunday. Pedagogical miscellanies are mulled over, usually assuaged by a glass (or two) of (self-righteously poured)) bio-dynamic, low sulfite, Bordeaux. However, to my surprise, I’ve started attending a mindfulness class instead. 

And here I am, doing a sitting meditation on an early Sunday evening, causing me no little amount of bodily discomfort: sitting astride a cushion, lower legs and soles of feet tucked under my arse. There's a grinding discomfort at the cuneiform bone pressed against the impressively polished yoga studio floor. There's a dull intensity in the lower back, just above my right pelvic bone. 

I want to flinch, react. I want to get up. I wanna get out. Fuck this mindfulness malarkey!

But at this moment I choose instead to ‘settle into’ (would you believe it) the sensations, just noticing the particularity of their changing nature, or impermanence. I try to welcome them. Then I have a realisation: that my body doesn’t need my mind’s rumination; that the body (in this moment) is wiser than my thinking mind; that it can gently guide me away from such modes of thought as well as guide me through physical discomfort with simple, patient, awareness; especially when it is aligned to breathing with and into each arising discomfort. At this moment I find the mind’s ruminative tendency dissipates – albeit momentarily – and that it is replaced by an embodied intelligence that taps into something called 'kindness'. Kindness towards sensations arising, and kindness to myself for experiencing sensations in the way I am.

Bloody hell.

Way to go.

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