In the quiet of the night, the conventional wisdom says lie still. It promises that if I simply observe my thoughts they will drift away like clouds. But inside of me, the story is completely different: instead of a clear sky, agitation does not drift. It ignites.
What begins as a spark of thought quickly catches, roaring into a firestorm that defies any attempts of containment. My breath, instead of being a steady anchor, feels more like a bellows fanning the flame with a compulsive rhythm–breathe in, breathe out. . .
For sure, I am not relaxing into the moment. If anything, the pace is getting intense. As the fire burns, the agitation laughs at my “mindful” practice–it knows who is winning the struggle. My attempt to negotiate a peace treaty with a mind that refuses to surrender is all too common.
Have you got an “enemy within”?
Running with Buddha 