Meditation Prayer

I was meditating this morning as I try to do each and every morning before work, and found it turned into prayer instead of quiet meditation. Monkey mind is always with me during these sessions, even more so these days. Lately it is really hard to quiet and calm my mind. Chanting helps. Mind you I always move from meditation to another position where I Do pray and ask for guidance and healing.

But this morning nothing was working and I found myself praying only. I pray to all powers - Gods, Goddesses, Angels, you name it. Broaden the base so to speak for more coverage? So I didn't fight it and I prayed. I prayed for a quiet mind (!); I prayed for my business: I prayed for my husband to find peace these days in his hectic and overwhelming job; I prayed for my older son, the musician (quite talented), to find his success and happiness; and I prayed for my own peace of mind.

This liminal phase I am in is quite frustrating. I feel all mushy and not quite cooked for the next phase. And I never give myself time for these transitions. Like Veruka Salt, "I want it NOW!"

I also need a vacation desperately and luckily and finally am soon to get it! Yeah!

According to the website Meditation Truth,
            in some traditions the words prayer and meditation are
            used interchangeably.There are Buddhist and Catholic
            and Hindu and Jewish meditation practices that involve
            repeating or focusing on or contemplating some religious
            passage or idea.

According to Brother Aleksei (www.brother-aleksei.org),
            when you choose to combine prayer and meditation, that
            is to take a specific request into the space of your
            communion with God, always begin with
            acknowledging and affirming the Presence.
(Okay, so my presence includes EVERYONE – angels, goddesses, etc.)
          Then make a conscious interior movement in your heart to
           surrender your will and meditate on your request. Meditate
          from a feeling as if your request has been already granted
           while immersing your heart in a deep emotion of gratitude and
           love. Your request will immediately begin to take form. It may
          take some time before you can see the result, but have faith
          that it is gestating, just like a seed you plant into a fertile soil.
          Cultivate it, protect it from any doubts and fears.
(I have done this. I HAVE planted seeds. Good to know I am on the right path! I like this next one…)
           Do not dig up the seed to check if it has sprouted yet.

If I continue to meditate and believe in the prayer (seed), the seed will sprout, maybe not in the way you originally though because, remember, it has a life of its own now.

So, I guess I am okay with this morning’s prayer meditation. I was always told to quiet the mind when meditating, clear the mind of thoughts, ideas, let them go when they pop in (monkey mind!). But it is also okay for the meditation to be something else. Who am I to fight it? Let it be what it wants to be. Let go of all expectations and “it” will happen.

Death Becomes Him

The proud mama presents the younger son's video debut, a music video to a Herbie Hancock tune.  Like mother, like son - we both LOVE zombies and horror films!

This is definitely both nature and nurture in action. Thanks for watching!
Max DeGenova presents Death Becomes Him.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L6lnEWmYv3o

I Have Become My Mother.....

It is done, complete. I have become my mother.  Remember when we were younger and always said, "I will never be like you, mother."  Well, it is time I eat my words.  It appears that I am wired by some genetic code to be just like mom.  Damn that DNA!!!!

Okay, let's not get too worked up about this.  It has been slow to come and I am getting constant reminders of why I am becoming yiayia (Greek for grandma).  My sons call them yiayia moments.  My husband calls them Dee-isms.  And I have grown tired of them reminding me of my own request of them to put me out on the water if I ever become like Dee.

So I am driving to the gym this morning, talking to my hubby, and I notice that the workout pants I have on have holes up and down the now paper thin crotch area.  I hate to admit as well that these pants are probably as old as my oldest son (24 next Monday).  It was at that moment that I had officially become Dee.  My husband gleefully reminded me of my mother's polyester brown track suit
that she wore for years and years and years and.....well, I think you get it.....

My hubby didn't believe me when I said they were going in the garbage as soon as I got to the gym.  He said he was going to find them in my drawer and on me again and again.  Sorry, dude, they are now in the garbage can going to a landfill!  I am ashamed that I didn't give them to Goodwill, but I was scared they they WOULD end up in my drawer again so they were immediately disposed of.

But it got me to thinking more about our similarities.  I, like Mother, can no longer remember people's names.  It used to give me a chuckle when Dee would ask me who the person was that was coming towards her as she was smiling that fake, I have no idea who the hell you are, smile, at them.  I would wait till the very last minute when she was gritting profanities though that smile and then give her the name.

Not too long ago, we were at my son's gig and my brother was there.  My brother in law came in and had never met my  own brother, who asked who he was.  And at that moment, I lost the name.  It was gone.  A person I see all the time.  Just gone from my brain and nothing was going to get it back.  It didn't come back to me till an hour later in the middle of a song, when it popped out of my mouth, like turret's syndrome.  Of course, I was very excited that my brain still worked.

So, it has happened, and I now have to keep an eye out for the trip to the ocean where my sons might
offer me a solo boat ride.  I WILL fight it all the way to the loony bin, of course.  That is till I can't remember any more why I am wearing a brown track suit or sitting in a boat without a paddle.