476. Ziggy’s Diary: 4

I’m tired. Sleepy. This is the craziest jet leg ever. It’s like my eyes try to shut and my body slumps over right in the middle of a sentence. Of course this makes meditation impossible. I end up curled up on the floor like a cat, snoozing away. This is probably not advancing my spiritual journey but fuck let me get some rest and when I’m awake I’ll work on my self awareness and connection to the universe, okay?

Of course the problem is I’m awake now when I’m supposed to be sleeping and in a few hours they’ll come wake us for dawn meditation…

At least they aren’t judgmental. No one beat me or scolded me for falling asleep during meditation. This ain’t Catholic school. I guess they figure it’s my own loss if I’m not getting out of it what I came here for.

I was more awake in the afternoon session. I’m supposed to “follow my breathing.” Instead I daydreamed intensely about Daron. Perhaps I am exorcising him? Or exorcising the drug memories. Vivid conversations with him returned to me with startling clarity.

Some of those conversations are taking place through music, without words. I figure if I can’t actually get to meditating, at least I reached something kind of like an altered state? No drugs necessary. That’s progress, right?

It’s only the second day. I’m sure Swami Veddy would say I’m being an impatient American. If he spoke to me. No one, other than Jenn briefly, has spoken directly to me in two days.

Swami Veddy told a story today about a guru who went and lived in a cave near his master’s monastery, and would come out once a week to talk to his master and then go back in.

That cave is sounding really good right now. Instead I make myself the cave. When they look at me, they see only the gap, the emptiness.


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