new book, "The Untethered Soul: the journey beyond yourself"

just came in the mail from amazon a couple of days ago. I actually saw it in a girlfriends bathroom and I thought it looked really good.  I was looking at it last night before bed, and started on the first chapter "the voice inside your head."  I am so familiar with mine.  I have gotten good at watching it. It is just so amazing when you can observe all the buzzing in your mind; it is like a little movie running.  Since I have started to observe it, I have noticed it can be more in the background instead of drawing all my attention.  Michael A. Singer, the author, says "you are not the voice of the mind - you are the one who hears it."  The voice is incessant, it makes both sides of an argument, it can be hateful or kind, it is just a running narration...and when you realize you are not the voice, you don't have to figure out if the voice speaks the truth.   

So I was dawdling on Instagram a couple of days ago, and thejealouscurator (who I am slightly obsessed with) asked with an illustration, "what does your inner critic say to you?" She has a new book coming out about your inner critic being a jerk.  And the responses...well, our inner critics are just bullies.  But I think I am able now to see the inner critic (that voice that I notice) and let it be.  I don't have to argue with it, or wish it away, it just happens to be there and I can go about my work.  I am so thankful I am learning this skill.  

Sitting as a practice....

I sit.  I sit at my desk and work, on the couch and space out, in my bed up against the wall reading.  I also sit as a practice.  And it is not even sitting really right back and neck hurt to much to hold myself upright; instead it is laying on the floor with my knees bent and lower legs resting on a chair.  I do this for twenty three minutes usually, most every night.  It is meditation, but that word makes it seem like something more than it is.  It is just noticing.  I notice my breath, and my weight and how it meets the floor, and the sounds.  There are so many sounds in a house to notice.  And there are so many thoughts in the mind to get lost in, so that you lose the noticing.  When I realize I can't hear the sounds, I realize I am listening to my thoughts.  Then I can come back to the noticing.  It happens over and over; there is something so comforting in that.  

I was talking with my brother a couple of days ago about some changes he is making in his life.  Difficult changes.  He knows the changes are better for him, but he still wants the other.  He told me he can allow the desire to be there, but he doesn't have to do anything about it.  He can choose.  That choice is so powerful. I find the sitting helps me make those choices with more peace.  That is why I will keep doing it.