The Currency is MY LIFE: July 13th, 2005
09/28/2005 12:26 a.m.

I used to feel so deeply cut/hurt/pained/emotional each time I saw a person in need. That is to say, not in need of money or shelter or food, but in need of emotional support, or broader perspective, or stronger resolves etc. I wanted to "help" despite that no help was asked, and in some cases, despite that help was not even wanted and outright refused claiming me to be "up on a high horse".

These days, I find myself a different person, or rather, a person with more clarity, more sense, more understanding. I am finding more and more that I am becoming MYSELF, though slowly, but very surely. My emotions, my sensitivity is no longer as subjective to the extent that I am completely blinded by them and controlled by them. They are no longer so subjective that I am willing to pay the heaviest price at the expense of my own well being. I am, of course, willing and happy to go this far and further for certain few people, but now the number of these people have grown much much smaller. Previously, my emotionalism would become so great as to attempt to pay the price for mere strangers, justifying that I am a 'good' person and that they 'need a chance' even if I don't necessarily believe they will hear me or believe me or understand me, and most importantly will not change. But these days I am not even including some of my own friends in this willingness to help at my cost when I can be reasonably sure that the effort will go to waste. When I know that the possibility of any meaningful or useful or effective result is so very small.

I was never one to weigh the cost against the result or benefit. These days I am aware of what this COST really means. I am so profoundly aware of what it is I am using as currency. The currency I pay with is ME...it is MY LIFE. I see this so clearly. I have always known this, but I have never been present or aware enough to be able to act as I am, as I intend. Now, I simply refuse (when I am present enough to realize that I am in fact paying a price) to use this most precious currency frivolously. NO MORE.

I will not make any effort to 'help' anyone I perceive to be unreceptive, unwilling, and hostile. I will, however, always respond positively to one who approaches me directly asking for my help, and I will always respond positively to one who seems open and receptive and willing to try and change. Still, even this must be weighed in light of any development or lack there of. What is more, I do not in the least feel "bad" or "guilty" for knowing the meaning of the cost, and for using it more wisely. I do not in the least feel "bad" or "guilty" for saving my own LIFE when I simply cannot save another's. In fact, I am happier than ever I have been, and when I say happy I mean HAPPINESS and not elation or excitement or pleasure or comfort. No, I don't mean any of the experiences that exist on one end of the pleasure-pain continuum. I am inherently happy when I AM. I am on an altogether different plane when I speak of this happiness, it is an altogether different scale that I am using when I speak of or define happiness. These days I AM MYSELF in quality and quantity to an extent that far exceeds any glimpse of presence I have ever experienced before.



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Struggling with Not Struggling: July 6th, 2005
09/28/2005 12:14 a.m.

I'm struggling with the fact that I am not struggling. I am finding it difficult to admit this defeat as a tactical retreat. I didn't go to work today, and at 3 p.m., after having told a close friend that I was going to go clean my house, and then work on some poem drafts, I instead went upstairs and went to bed for two and a half hours. In these hours I dreamt as always, lucid and disturbing, not in the violent sense, but in the sense that I might as well have not slept. One of the things I dreamt was that I had gotten extremely drunk and had to pull my car over to the side of the road. When I looked down I realized that my keys weren't even in the ignition. "How the hell was I just driving a moment ago?" I asked myself. Meanwhile, there was a policewoman behind me. I got out of my car and realized that this 'drunken' state was more like a state of 'blindness,' more specifically, a physical kind of blindness. I could hardly see, in fact, it was not so much that I could hardly see as the fact that I could hardly keep my eyes open. I was struggling so hard to keep them open, knowing that this policewoman will now know for sure that I am drunk and arrest me. I struggled so hard, closing my eyes for just a moment in complete beauty and comfort, and from that point then having more strength to open them a bit wide, but after a few seconds they became weak again and began to close against my will. Despite this, when I opened the back door of the car, I found the keys lying there so clearly, so clearly! I was baffled at how they could have gotten there, completely forgetting (until this very moment) that I saw them clearly in that moment. The policewoman was now in front of me, and of course, I could not see her face or body that well, it was only evident that she was wearing the blue uniform and blue hat. She spoke with me about my being drunk, I told her I was just sleepy, so sleepy (in my mind I thought, "she's never going to buy this Rula,") and she did not buy it. She told me she would not be arresting me, that I seemed sincere that I was sorry and she could see how badly I was feeling, but she asked me to imagine in my mind how it would be if she did arrest me. She asked me to think of my father, "what would he think? What would he feel in seeing you regress like this?" I told her, "he would feel pain and I would be the cause."

I woke up not long thereafter when my husband arrived from work at around 5:30 p.m. I woke up feeling quite strange, physically as though I was a bit 'out of my body,' but only slightly. I was also sad but not in a 'crying way', and on top of this very irritated and frustrated. My husband was kind, he hugged me and asked me if I was ok, and why I was feeling so bad. I could not answer when I had no clear reason. I mumbled something about not being able to sleep, about dreaming and not being able to wake up. In any case, the next ½ hour was so interesting as I see it here and now, and as too I saw it then when I looked at myself from a distance, looking from outside to inside. The interesting part is two-fold. First, I felt an extreme anger, an extreme frustration. Within one half hour I could have screamed at the top of my lungs, or I could have thrown plates around the house. I felt the strong urge to throw and hit and to admit defeat. I had not felt this frustrated and angry for a long time. Interestingly, I was also watching myself getting angry, feeling frustrated, and watched myself closely as I pictured myself throwing and breaking a dish, as I pictured myself screaming "GO TO HELL EVERYONE." I saw myself so clearly, as lately I have been seeing myself so clearly every hour of every day it seems. I did laugh, I remember clearly my intending self laughing in those seeing moments.

I have gone from never remembering to 'look' to never forgetting to 'look'. Still, this remembering had a purpose, HAS a purpose, and the purpose is to grow, the purpose is to see that "I" am not I, and then to DO something about this fact. It has been painful seeing my numerous "I's" so clearly almost on a minute to minute basis at times (most of the time as the I's are reacting or just a moment after having reacted,) and yet letting them win, letting them defeat my Intending self in that moment, SEEING myself letting them defeat ME. Yes, this is the struggle of not struggling. It is the struggle of seeing but not doing, the struggle of being aware of not being aware, and of not doing anything that I know will give me quality impressions and thus, energies to 'get out' of this 'stuck up' mode I seem to be in.

The good news is that I am not alone, for though I have not been 'clear' about many things, the one thing I have always been clear about is that I am not doing what I intend. I have always known 'what's right' even as I was justifying not doing it. Always, but I never before knew what LOVE truly was, not truly. Now there is a difference in me. There is something compelling me to treat defeat as a tactical retreat. Something which compelled me to get angry with my lethargic and frustrated self and to DO something that I KNOW would help me. Something which compelled me to clean the kitchen, and to clean the living room, and then just now sit down and write about my struggle. It's clear what that 'something' is to me. It's clear that I could never BE when I was only a half of an I all along. It's clear to me that I am a whole, and as such, cannot fail. It's an impossibility to fail, there is no going back, there is no dream to go back to. I am struggling with not struggling, and I am doing it with presence, with LOVE.



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Celebrating Independence Day as a Dependent: July 4th, 2005
09/27/2005 11:57 p.m.
On the road in the car to Mom and Dad's house. Teta, of course, is there too. I have with me, apart from this journal, the book "The Power of NOW" for my mother. I will read it when she's done. So, today I am my own watchdog. I am watching my thoughts and watching my emotions. If my thoughts are being repressed, my body will tell me and I shall listen to/watch my body instead. I had, as Ashok so clearly saw, been predetermining my responses ruthlessly, and in this way was repressing my thoughts instead of seeing them for what they are. In repressing them, their negative energy manifested into tension built up physically by my body. The emotionalism I was feeling and all the irritation was a physical reflection of my mind, of not STOPPING, but stopping reaction with force. It's a good beginning in the sense that it is intentional on my part to keep me from my conditioned responses, and good in that it proves my resolve, but now I must refine the practice. Today, I am my own watchdog.

2:52 p.m. We just finished lunch. My mother asked me what I was thinking. I told her "I was thinking not to think". I am struggling. It seems there is a force to all the practices I attempt. I try to "see" my thoughts, to "watch" the emotions which emerge as a result. When I truly succeed in watching only then am I present, fully aware with my attention in tact. Only then am I able to laugh those thoughts and emotions "out". But also, there is a predicament in watching your own thoughts which appear as a matter of conditioned response, and that is, I begin to feel tired at the sheer amount of meaningless thoughts that drive me every moment to react or to project, or the recall. Trying to clear your mind, trying to move your attentions makes you see so clearly to what extent you are out of control, and yes, this is painful and can be so frustrating, sometimes causing you to have to consider a severe failure as yet another tactical retreat in order not to go mad.

How about sadness that manifests from the realization/thought of helplessness, not just mine, but humankind in general. Am I alive?

We are watching a movie. I watched myself getting emotional, feeling sadness over the fragility of humankind. I WATCHED, I SAW the emotion rising up inside me. Suddenly, I felt the sadness deep within. Deep within but the tears just moments before in my eyes retreated. The tension I was feeling moments ago in my body dissipated. I had been mistaken before, not so much mistaken as I was going about things the wrong way. My thoughts, the unwanted thoughts, I saw myself thinking them and decided I would not act, rather react, on them. But then it was my body which spoke on their behalf, SHOWING me in no uncertain terms, clearly that I was repressing those thoughts and not ignoring them, giving them no credence. Now, watch closely your thoughts AND watch closely your emotions, most especially when they are in conflict with each other. When you "think" you are not sad, nor angry, nor frustrated and you body's tension is on the rise, building up slowly, always listen to your body. Your body cannot tell a lie. This time I listened to my body. I sat back in my chair and I watched myself feeling sad. My body. Suddenly, the pain, what seemed like physical pain and mental anguish vanished from that physical sphere. I looked deep within and found my sadness still there, but now occupying my seat. I was my sadness.



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I Woke up from a Dream I Dreamt I Dreamt in a Dream: June 28th,
09/27/2005 01:33 a.m.

I was walking around one day from place to place in my normal course in my normal routine. I woke up, took a shower, went to work, did some accounting, talked to co-workers, argued with my brother, went home, made dinner, talked with my husband, ate dinner, watched t.v., fed the children, changed into my pajamas, and then went to bed and began to dream...

I dreamt I was alone, sitting silently in a prison with iron bars. It was a small box-like jail cell, confining, filled with stale air, and defined by clear boundaries. The lock on the iron door was marked "eternal prisoner". Simply put. I could not believe that this was my fate. How could this have happened? I became so afraid, and fear turned to anger. I slammed my fists against the bars, bruising my hands as I screamed at the top of my lungs "LET ME OUT!!!" I screamed and I hit, and I screamed and I cried, and I screamed and fell to my knees exhausted. Feeling emotionally and physically exhausted, I fell on the floor and fell fast asleep, tears still streaming down my face, and I began to dream...

I dreamt I was alone, sitting silently in a prison with iron bars. It was a small box-like jail cell, confining, filled with stale air, and defined by clear boundaries. The lock on the iron door was marked "eternal prisoner". Simply put. As I stood up to embark upon my angry thrashing and lashing out with my hands and my voice, I found I couldn't stand and fell to the ground hard. I tried to break my fall with my hands as is a natural reaction, but I found that my hands were unusable and I landed straight on my head with a THUD. As I focused my vision, I looked down at my hands and feet and can you believe what I saw? Cold iron shackles. Yes, I was bound hand and foot, within this natural prison. And on each small but solid iron lock that held each shackle to the other was engraved the words, "Rula Shin – locksmith". Simply put. I began to scream and shake as I realized that I had somehow inadvertantly shackled myself together, locking my own feet together and my own hands together!! It's right then and there that I fainted, once again hitting the floor hard inside my natural prison, unable to catch myself tied in my own hand made shackles. At some point, I fell asleep and began to dream...

I dreamt I was alone, sitting silently in a prison with iron bars. It was a small box-like jail cell, confining, filled with stale air, and defined by clear boundaries. I did not move, feeling so intensly that cold iron against the skin of my hands and feet, remembering my self made shackled state within my prison. I sat down on my bench. I sat down but I didn't cry, and I didn't scream, and I didn't fight, and I didn't think "why?" and I didn't think "how?" and I didn't think "when?". In fact, only one thought circulated in my skull, "you are helpless. Accept your helplessness". And can you believe what happened then? SILENCE. NOTHING.

I looked at the shackles on my hands and feet and SAW the engraving had changed, ”Locksmith, who made the lock also holds the key.” Suddenly, I woke up, still sitting in a small box-like jail cell, confining, filled with stale air, and defined by clear boundaries with iron gates and a lock that read "eternal prisoner." But there were no shackles on my hands or feet.


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I Shocked Myself So Badly: June 22nd, 2005
09/12/2005 06:28 p.m.


I am feeling so terrible right now, simply awful. I completely ignored my notion of undoing (which was very present and alive) and spent the last hour researching "XXX" which is a trivia question currently in the general forum. Finally, after all this idiotic waste of time on this meaningless question, I closed all search engines and declared myself dead this morning. My stomach is churning at the thought of how I wasted this office hour, and even more painful is the realization that I (many times) thought to myself that this is a waste and that I must undo this horrendous self who is so curious about such a meaningless answer to such a meaningless question, and furthermore wants to be the first to post the correct answer nonetheless!! I am so upset with myself. So angry and feeling so awful. But in a way this is a good occurrence because it's driving me deep inside myself and into my seat, making me more determined to undo and more determined to LIVE. Oh!! I need to calm down and just begin NOW to face my despairing self in this very moment as a woman who does SEE her selves killing her when she refuses to listen to her intending self because of boredom, or lethargy.

After struggling with my emotional self and her subsequent urge to 'run away' from the situation facing her by surrendering, I am feeling so much better, so relieved and happy with what this wasted hour represents. That is to say, not the wasted hour itself, but the shock it gave my intending self which has resonated deep within my subconscious now that I am allowing it to, now that I am undoing the lamenting self. This shock is actually a kind of barometer of my growth since I would never before have felt so horribly about one wasted hour. In the past I would have just shrugged it off by justifying the waste somehow. In addition, I am happy because I recognized this waste as my DEATH on a deep level, a level of sensing where my entire body felt the realization of this death and reacted by feeling physically ill. During my most emotional moments I was urged by my good friend to undo this lamenting idiot as quickly as possible before it amounts to yet another hour of death, another 3,600 moments of death!! OH! We just don't realize how much dying we do since we just don't realize how many moments of LIVING there are to be lived.

As my friend let me talk out this despairing self, I was slowly able to crush her with the realization that I am turning this waste into a NON-waste, I am undoing this waste by turning it into a meaningful and beautiful shock that will help me to change from within, and not just a momentary change, but a LASTING change. Yes, as we talked this emotional idiot out of her despair and tendency to wallow in it, I began to sense clearly what my mind had already been telling me since I first realized the waste, though this logic had been consumed by emotionalism too much to overtake the wheel and to drive herself into facing the moment with presence. But together, my friend and I drove this emotional self out and created a beautiful association with this shock. My intending self is slowly but surely WINNING the associations of this wasteful self that wants to run eagerly towards her death. The moment of reconciliation will soon come the moment she is completely annihilated. Basically, I will consider her dead once the intending self is able to take control and turn the situation around just moments after she rears her ugly head. Maybe even one day she will no longer even show up for even a moment…I can only hope in hopelessness. My friend says, 'we must be impeccable warriors against these hideous selves within us'. I replied, "Yes, and together we are"

It's now 3:20 p.m. and I have been working hard after having collected my composure and decided to USE this shock to my advantage to register the association deep. I am undoing even now as I refuse to let blankness and disinterest and boredom take over while I wait for these checks to print, so I am here writing instead. I am in my seat and watching carefully all the happenings taking place externally, and as I watch I'm able to slow everything down. I am able to remember to practice as I study my own movements, and the movements of others. I remember to undo every time I encounter a self that becomes an obstacle, in turn I remember to do all the other practices which fall under the practice of undoing. I move with the intention of never reaching anywhere, I see myself in any given situation, and I think before I speak and try not to think or speak anything wasteful if at all. When I do find myself speaking or thinking something meaningless I attempt to nip it at the bud by STOPPING, by undoing. I am getting the impression these days that one of my most powerful selves which I am struggling against is this self who is curious about things which are so meaningless when she knows to begin with that they are meaningless. This self draws her energies from feelings of boredom and lethargy and blankness. This self finds escape from these situations more fulfilling than facing them (than facing the boredome, lethargy, blankness) and undoing them with intentional attention and presence, which takes effort, though in the long run the effort is ten fold to get rid of the new association she has just created telling her to RUN every time she encounters these states of boredom, or lethargy, or blankness! Ohh! How idiotic to create more associations to undo and to create more obstacles every moment that I must struggle against and undo the moment after. How idiotic to strengthen associations which already have sources of energy so readily available, so widely accessible! OH!! And just now I notice one of my nails is chipped and begin to play with it, getting distracted and then annoyed as it breaks even further. STOP! I'm back now…oh how beautiful the struggle is when you succeed!! And even when you don't succeed completely you still succeed in struggling, which is the only way to grow and to begin to win the associations from those unwanted selves.

I am feeling so happy in the second half of this day, and look what an amazing change this is since earlier this morning and afternoon. I have come so far with just a bit of intentional effort using logic to propel me into action by undoing with presence of mind and body. Imagine how much further one can go, how much more one can undo, how much more energy one can save and how much more living one can attain when one tries more than just a 'bit'!! Well I am going to go now and continue living these moments with as much quality of presence as possible…oh but before I go, one more thing, all this undoing has me remembering to breathe deep and slow too. I have been remembering the breathing exercises which I have been particularly forgetful about in the past. :-)



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I Am Stuck Up & Undoing the Tangles – June 20th, 2005
08/05/2005 09:59 p.m.

I am stuck-up in sadness and frustration since the past few days. Despite some very incredibly….and here again stuck up by an old song that I have emotional associations with. For a moment one of my selves wanted to just stop writing and to listen to the song with every so-called 'intention' of simply feeling sad. But no, I have resolved, WE have resolved to fight ruthlessly those selves and to UNDO at every turn…all the way through every day. Now here in my office I have been feeling emotional since getting into an argument with my brother and though I neutralized this self for a few moments
by using logic, I did keep drifting back to that scene and then again feeling angry and emotional. The good thing is that every unwanted self that appears due to some unwanted association with that self has been strong only for a few moments before I once again became present, that is to say, before I appear seeing that self so clearly caught up in emotionalism, or mechanical reaction, or caught up in some projection or recollection. This is the moment that UNDOING becomes DOING. I laugh out this emotional idiot and release the tension instead of repressing it and letting it build up, bringing me back to the forefront at the helm of affairs. Today in the office I am going to be ruthless in my UNDOING, but rather than say here what I 'plan' on doing and letting this thought turn into some meaningless and wasteful excitement getting me once again 'stuck up', I will now put down the pen, coming back as and when the paper calls me…

As I put down the pen I again begin to think of the argument I had with my brother which is bothering me because he claims I said something which not only do I not recall saying, but that I would not be of the mind to say. In these moments I did recall what had actually occurred and been said all this time ago and knowing that "I'm right" was on my way to remind him. He was busy, and so I returned to my office once again and upon sitting down realized the futility of the reaction of this self who wants so badly to remind my brother of the so-called 'truth' and that he is irresponsible and that I was right all along etc. hahahahaha!! I am laughing this self out now. Why does this self keep appearing wanting to prove to others that which she already knows, the intending self a weak voice in the background asking "why?" Every moment your bitter self is at the wheel is another death upon death, my idiot selves driving over me, turning me into a bloody pulp as that dog Ashok encountered lying dead in the street unrecognizable, not even an ounce of what he was, or what he could have been, remaining. Here again I see that the emotional self is tempted to make an appearance, but this time I am ruthless in my presence and no sooner does she peek her head through than I crush her completely and move on.

What have I undone? In these few hours here at the office I wrote some poetry rather than working, or rather, working in between writing. I believed this would undo the self which is worried that she may not be able to accomplish both tasks she has assigned herself for today. Hahahaha! Of course now she feels bad and wonders why since she has done so much work on this poem, meanwhile, her intending self is laughing knowing exactly why since she is now stuck up in the feeling of regret and pity. Now as I write this I turn down the music, undoing the self who feels a constant need to hear it mechanically in the background of every situation, and the self who feels she can more easily find her beautiful emotions if she is so inspired by the melody or the words of another song. But I refuse to allow her to listen to music as I write this since I know that only inner silence can bring clarity of thought and presence of mind and body and overall being. As for office work, despite that I finished the draft of my poem, I am (as I mentioned before) feeling a bit bad about my work performance and having ended up spending more time on the poem than on the much needed work here. I am now undoing the self that wants only to feel bad and sorry and to go home early and sad claiming that she will finish up tomorrow what's necessary today. I am now putting down my pen and going to work uninterrupted and from A to A undoing all the way until 6:30 pm when I leave and head for home….

And then I began to think of my father on his death bed as I was left alone in the office, last to leave and associating this lonely feeling with the departure of those I love dearly. How odd the swiftness of these associations jumping from one to the next. Working hard from A to A and undoing when everyone left I allowed the music to fling me into the future as I worked and emotionalism washed over me, the tears flowing so easily and felt so good, relieving, though I knew very well they were not, the self in me who revels in such negativity was feeling good. I cried but silently as I pictured his smile as an old man in bed and my weakness as I sit by his side trying not to show my pain lest he feel all the worse as he takes his last breaths…suddenly, I smiled, tears still staining my cheeks, as I saw that I had just killed my own father!! "He's here alive and well", I told myself, "and now you've not only gone and killed him but you're mourning him too all in one shot! Girl you are very efficient!" hahaha It's here I UNDID by becoming angry with this idiotic self who wants to end the beautiful moments that have not yet arrived, and to kill all the moments which are presently here before her. I also undo that other self who took her guilt and ran with it because she projected her father's death and not her mothers, thus, leaving her completely out of the equation and feeling badly for it HAHAHAHAHA!!!! I suppose, Mom, that you are relieved, and here this stupid self is feeling guilty for having left you alive and well, for not having the foresight to kill you too hahahahaha yesyes breathe a sigh of relief….I'm laughing SO HARD….


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Six Sessions of Silence Each Day: June 7, 2005
07/07/2005 12:09 a.m.

Today there are two resolves that are now in play.  Very important resolves essential to experience life as it SHOULD BE.  I woke up this morning and headed to the exercise room, as our first resolve (from the night before) is to start this new workout routine and continue it on a daily basis for as long as our bodies live.  We are to attain a healthy lifestyle that promotes general well being, relieves stress, and builds motivation, energy, and most importantly, self confidence.  The second resolve, and more important, is to attempt six sessions of silence daily until further notice.  This is a most difficult if not impossible exercise to actually accomplish.  That is to say, just attempting to completely shut off all internal dialoging and to hold one’s attention and move it as though it were his own limb, is difficult enough.  Imagine then how difficult it is to actually attain just one moment of this inner silence when impressions permeate and flutter across our brains every single moment of ever waking and sleeping day, uncontrolled and uncontrollable.  Needless to say, one may initially think that the attempt itself is simple, that one only has to remember.  But in this exercise, as opposed to others, though remembering must come before the attempt, it is the attempt that is actually harder to do, and the attainment of the goal the hardest of all.  Here are my results for today:

First Session:  I sat on the mat in my exercise room and began to stretch.  At first I was watching T.V. as I did so, Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  Suddenly, I remembered that I am to be silent at least 6 times a day.  With this recollection I began to have this terrible feeling of disgust with myself.  How could I be doing this beautiful stretching exercise, the most wonderful and perfect moment to try and attain inner silence, and here I was watching Buffy instead, and one that I’ve seen before nonetheless!!  I immediately turned off the T.V. and closed my eyes.  As soon as the TV noise was gone, the room seemed so silent, so very silent and calming.  I instantly felt better and felt I had a good chance of being able to concentrate and hold my attention.  My legs were bent at the knee as I did the lotus and stretched, feeling my bad back thanking me.  With my eyes closed I suddenly became aware of a light buzzing sound in the background, I didn’t even ask myself what it was, I just listened to its constant buzz, like a lifeline gone flat, and suddenly I felt so at ease, so at peace.  Was I straying?  Where there thoughts and were these thoughts straying?  Yes, there were and they were.  BUT, there still quality in those moments I found myself wandering and STOPPED…the moments I listened to that buzzing sound constant and ever accentuating the silence that surrounded me, I would attain one fraction, on little droplet of a second of complete thoughtlessness.  And here is where I felt so much clarity.  I intentionally thought of a concept of utopia I had been contemplating the night before, one that had been bothering me.  To my surprise and elation, I found that I had no more questions!!!! Can you believe that!!?? I found myself seeing the whole picture, seeing that I was wrong, seeing that the theory is sound and attainable if only on a very small scale.  I continued like this for five minutes straight.  Concentrating on that buzzing sound, sensing the silence without, and thus, attaining just a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a moment of silence before I strayed again. And you may ask, “how, if you only experienced this silence for such minute fraction of time, could you possibly know you experienced it at all??” – well let me just say that I did, simple as that.  I did recognize it and though in my afterthought and consideration I realized it to be so miniscule on the scale of time, the moment it happened felt more like seconds, five seconds or more…but it wasn’t.  Well, this is a good start, I think to myself as I look at my watch and see that it has been almost 7 minutes.  I hope the next will be even better.

Second Session:  Disappointing.  I spent five minutes in the bathroom at work attempting to attain my inner silence.  In this environment even one moment of true presence was impossible.  Despite that no one was in the bathroom with me, I simply was unable to concentrate my attention on STOPPING.  I tried some tricks that had helped me this morning to attain a good quality of silence, but these all failed.  I tried to concentrate on the silence inside the bathroom as I heard the buzzing of the light overhead, but my mind kept on leading me astray, one association leading to another then another in mere fractions of a second.  As you can imagine, in just one minute or so I was completely gone, immersed in meaningless thoughts moving at lighting speed, imagining this or that, talking about this or that before realizing what I was doing, and that I was here to STOP and not talk.  Then I would stop in order to try and get myself back on track, but this stopping in itself lasted only a fraction of a second before I was back daydreaming.  I tried then to concentrate on an object, and to move my eyes from one object to the next, moving my attention as I did so, in continuity.  As I did this I found myself thinking of how I was going to describe this attempt of mine in my journal…OHH!!! Again here I stopped and scolded myself,  frustrated and annoyed with my continued failure!  Ok, I will not concentrate on an object, but on the contrast between one object and another, the edge of my glasses which are on my face, and this will hold my attention and I will not think of anything else, I will only hold myself here as I trace the black line…..one moment…one little tiny fraction of a moment YESYES!!!! OHH now I lost it the very moment I realized there was actually a moment of silence, then I jumped into thoughts of how funny I must look with my eyes tracing the lining of my glasses, ending up looking at my own nose, and most likely cross eyed. I laughed if you can believe it. I laughed and suddenly I was so aware once again that I was not present.  And then I looked down at my watch and saw that so quickly, so very very quickly six minutes had already passed.  I know that if I was present at all, this six minutes would have seemed like an eternity.  What a sorry attempt this was.  My next attempt will be more fruitful.

Memorial Day at Myrtle Beach: Monday May 30th 10:30
06/29/2005 03:10 p.m.

Marissa is in the other room crying, unwilling to go to sleep. Kara and I just gave her a bath and I saw her playing with the water and splashing around joyfully for the first time. She is so soft and cuddly and beautiful and innocent, hardly an impression made upon her. She hasn’t learned to fear irrationally, nor hate because of it. She knows only the rituals of eating, sleeping, washing, and playing…all she knows is the feel of hunger, thirst, comfort, and discomfort. She knows the sound of her parent’s voices, and her grandparents, the voices of safety and comfort. She know there are things that are so very funny, like tickles, and funny faces and noises her silly family makes when they’re around her. She knows that other things ‘feel’ bad, like the sun in her eyes, or the cold penetrating her chest. But she doesn’t know why she feels bad, and what’s more, it doesn’t matter why. She doesn’t presume or assume, nor even does she expect or suspect. She simply laughs when she feels good and cries when she doesn’t. All her reactions are a result of biological need. She is not yet motivated by jealousy, anger, hatred, fear, love, or power. She simply is, and does, that’s all, and I love her so much, despite that soon all of this will change. Despite that soon, she will be just like the rest of us ants…


I am currently Thoughtfull

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I Decide to STOP HERE: May 26th, 2005
06/22/2005 08:01 p.m.

What did I do? Did I work hard? Did I use every moment? Every fraction of every moment? Where was "I"? I think "I" might have been before, but if I was, well then wouldn't I know for sure? Yes, I would know for sure. And here it is, my hand doing the talking for me…STOP. Eyes close. Hand smooth over paper, writing straight…eyes closed still…for a moment there "I" was. Two moments ago "I" was not. I was dead. Dead and smiling. Dead and laughing. Dead and happily forgetful of my passive death.

Yes, all my so-called life I've been running towards my death. Not just running, but charging towards it. This is funny and now I'm laughing at the thought. Just imagine being charged up, pumped up and ready to GO…walking…running towards the edge…fast, slow…it didn't matter so long as I was steady. They say that youth is wasted on the young, and oh how this truth uttered aloud rings maddeningly in my ears! Loud and sharp and painful! When I was 10 I felt small and I couldn't wait to be a big, strong teenager. When I was 13 I felt so ugly and I just couldn't wait to be a beautiful 16 year-old. When I was 16 I felt I had so much beauty in my life, none of which I had accomplished myself, and I couldn't wait to be a legally responsible 18 year-old. Looking back, what's amazing to me is how 'normal' and expected this all is. This 'looking forward', this walking towards death is NORMAL, EXPECTED…NATURAL!!!

Yes, I walked steadily towards my death from age to age, but I didn't stop there, no. I did decide somewhere deep inside my subconscious that I was worthless...weak, ugly, and undeserving. Yes, I decided to hate myself for what it's worth, walking towards my death battering myself along the way. But I didn't stop there, no. I did decide somewhere deep inside my subconscious that I would prove to one and all just how weak, and ugly, and undeserving I really am. Yes, I decided to provoke others to hate me too. But I didn't stop there either, no. I did decide somewhere deep inside my subconscious that it was not enough to be thought weak, ugly, and undeserving by others. Yes, I decided to allow others the opportunity to batter me. Somewhere deep inside my subconscious I suddenly became afraid when I saw how easily and willingly people batter one who was weak, and ugly, and undeserving. Yes, I decided that they were wrong and misled, pleading with them to SEE that I was strong, and beautiful, and deserving. But they refused to hear my words and change their views as my uncanny ability to project my weak, ugly, and undeserving selves proved so successful…

So, I just could not stop there, no. Somewhere deep inside my subconscious I did realize that an intending self had been created long ago by association of some quality impressions…I realized that this was the only self present within me that was ME, and was unwilling to charge towards DEATH relentlessly. It was HERE that I STOPPED and BECAME STRONG, BEAUTIFUL, and DESERVING. And in stopping HERE, I refused to stop THERE ever again, not allowing death to provoke me into running as it chased me…

I am currently Happy
I am listening to Tori Amos - Winter

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Another Beginning: May 18th, 2005 7:10 a.m.
05/18/2005 01:29 p.m.


It’s 7:10 a.m. and the phone just rang. I didn’t pick it up, but oh what a beautiful reminder! Thank you mysterious unknown caller for the waking me because I have so much to accomplish today, every day from now on…but well, let’s just begin with today, this moment, and end with this day, this moment. So, thank you for the wake up call as I’ve been dreaming all kinds of nonsense all night long it seems to me. Now here I am with pen to paper, a most beautiful way to begin the day, watching my hand move smoothly over the paper, feeling concentrated, all my centers focused on this task, despite my sleepiness.

So, let me go back in time now, intentionally to my yesterday to evaluate my day, or lack thereof hah. From morning to about 1:00 p.m. at work I did try hard to complete certain tasks, but though I succeeded overall in finishing the tasks, I nonetheless felt a bit dull and unaccomplished. But I did say to myself several times between those hours, “what have you done this hour Rula, where is your concentration and focus, how many times have you allowed your attention to stray?” Subsequently I did go back to the task at hand, attempting to hold my attention and do everything A to A and M to M. Yet, if this is the case and I did accomplish much, then why did I feel so dull and unaccomplished? Perhaps, (and I did not consider this the day before) it is because the QUALITY of my presence was bad. I did take stock yes, but tacking stock is not enough when one does it half present, half passively. That entire morning to noon I did stray many many times and to counter these straying thoughts I did “take stock” many many times. Yet, this “taking stock” had not been the same as my taking stock the week before when my friend was away. Furthermore, this “taking stock” of my yesterday also made me realize that last week’s practices, though immensely useful, meaningful, and of much higher quality than yesterday’s, were not practiced with the kind of quality that is needed or required to truly learn how to LIVE.

Another realization is that all of this “quality” must have something to do with “mood”, and this realization though interesting, is not very surprising. Last week I felt not only a high quality of resolve which propelled me to work hard and with a quality concentration, but I was in a wonderful mood because of it. Yesterday, however, was yet another day in a series of days that I have not slept well, was feeling tired, and emotionally generally sad. Though I have not been fighting the sadness, I also have not been letting it turn into meaningless emotionalism, which at several moments it was on the brink of becoming. Still, generally speaking I was spending more time telling myself to occupy my seat within, rather than actually occupying it. This is the difference, I think. This is the reason that despite all the work I did I still did not feel accomplished or affected by the intensity of beautiful energies as a result. It’s because the energies were NOT intense at all hahaha.

Taking stock is not just an important reminder that I must concentrate and work A to A and M to M, but it is also a reminder of what A to A and M to M really MEAN. That all of this must be done with ATTENTION IN TACT…RULA moving WITH her attention. Yes, it must be Rula who takes stock, Rula who remembers the meaning of meaning, Rula who occupies her seat and becomes her happiness. It should, and must always be, Rula to Rula.

I am currently Content
I am listening to Golden Girls

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