Woke up to the sound of birds again. In India, it is a cacophony. In the darkness, I could hear three distinct birds. There was one that was rattling like a woodpecker; a second that was ululating somewhat; and a third that was whistling very sweetly.
I thought I would lie in my warm bed and meditate. Maybe that would count as my daily practice. When I woke up again, I decided that simply lying in bed and falling asleep again would not count for a meditation practice.
Today, I smartly decided to get rid of my meditation practice first thing in the morning. So I went to the puja room and sat before the diya. I decided to do trataka today, so I gazed at the candle flame and observed my thoughts. They kept coming, unsupressed, like a drowning man on top of the ocean waving his hands and legs madly. I decided to think in my mother tongue, Tamil, as an exercise. To my shock, the words stopped. I was thinking in English! Not my mother tongue.
I decided to do brahmari pranayama. It feels, felt weird to be humming like a bee early in the morning. I felt like that actor in The Goodbye Girl, a very funny movie that I watched in the 80s. “My body is my temple,” he says. Anyway, I did brahmari pranayama 11 times. That felt good.
One more day of meditation success. I’m feeling good about it today.