Post retreat pond

I got back from a weekend retreat in a lovely part of the country this afternoon. The meditation was at times wonderful, at times painful, at times plain tedious, but no doubt always useful. It even brought some clarity to some questions I’ve been working on in the thesis.


Yes, I did in fact bring along my trusty iBook and did some mundane work on it during the breaks, like referencing — I’m changing one referencing system to another, and it just eats up time faster than the bog monster.

When I got back home, I spoke to my mother on the phone and promptly snapped at her in irritation for asking me the same question every week — ‘Have you finished your thesis yet?’ And this is within half an hour of crossing the threshold. I caught it early enough to prevent it from escalating, but I physically felt all the calmness flee from the agitation. It’s amazing how much I simply reacted on auto pilot to the aversion of my mother’s inquisitiveness; and as I type this I became aware that I had also become attached to the post retreat calm (and self-congratulation!) I’d come away with.

How fast we fall into the traps we set ourselves; the question is, equally, how deep?

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