Practice Imperfectly into Deep Winter

This is the last day of the juncture into deep winter.   The juncture has taken me into some unexpected places and helped me see that depth is not always what I think it's going to be.  

What do I mean by this? In my mind I had envisioned this juncture to be one in which I would meditate more, journal in solitude, stick to mindful cooking and eating, and revel in the quiet of the coming deep winter. It was anything but that.  I did increase my meditation practice.  And I have been consistently journaling.  I have also included some additional meditative practices, like walking each day.  I had some great days of mindful cooking and eating.  Wonderful days of making curries and soups and kitchari.  But it has been anything but a peaceful journey into deep winter. And I have had to fight for these practices.

Having done this work with clear dedication for about 3 and 1/2 years, I think that some of this work had turned into habit. And this juncture was hell-bent on getting me to feel that. And I mean feel it. 

[Honestly, I was starting to reach the point of boredom in these practices.]

Things were no longer feeling new and exciting and, although my attention span is pretty good, when I hit a repetitive wall, I usually am ready to jump into the next thing. During this juncture I have been presented with a number of intrusions and challenges that reminded me that cyclical processes are not boring if you approach them with fresh eyes.

[A week ago, when I lamented that my journaling was feeling repetitious and boring, a fellow practitioner said to me, "when things start to feel boring and you grow tired of your internal dialogues, that is when you know a true transformation is about to happen."]

In particular, I have had numerous work and personal challenges that have taken my time and challenged me to find new ways to keep my practices alive. I have had to work hard to keep my personal time for my juncture practices, and oftentimes, it has limited how much time I can spend in meditation, cook dinner, and do my journaling.  In all that time, I felt like I was not staying true to my practices, but as I reflect back over the past couple of weeks, I see how frequently I have been bringing the practices into the challenging spaces of work. How frequently I have been creatively making time to do the work that means so much to me.  Sometimes it means I take five minutes after a terrible meeting to listen to an intentionality recording. Or it means I leave for my class 20 minutes early and sneak in a walk before class.  Or it means that I journal and read with Matt watching television. 

How I understand this work as I look back, is that I am learning to understand what following ayurvedic tenets feels like in real time.  I cannot practice perfect in real time.  In the reality of a semester and in the constant deluge of drama that keeps on emerging around me, the practice is imperfect. That is the practice. Practicing imperfection.  What has become clear to me is that practice does not make perfect. And that is exactly what it means to live a whole holistic life. Practice is always imperfect.  As imperfect as a human being like me. 

In my moments of frustration, I return to a practice that requires me to look at my shadow self. It requires me to take those darker parts of my being that I fear and learn how they help produce the complicated and complex and complete human life I live. Practicing everyday to be imperfect.  Practicing imperfectly into deep winter.  

[A transformation has started to happen. I am seeing those dark spaces with a degree of compassion that I have never felt before.  I can see how I'm ready to delve into something new in myself.  I have my work cut out for me in this deep winter season.]