Notes on a Buddhist path

Mind Scrabble: a meditator’s pinball mind

March 23, 2011 By | 1 Comment

Thoughts are a part of life. As long as we have brainwaves there will be some trajectory of stimuli bursting into our consciousness. And since meditation is part of my life, thoughts are alive and well there. Some days I can observe them and they drift away like so much dandelion fluff. Other days they behave more like hamsters on drugs who have locked their claws into my cerebral cortex .

Most times I couldn’t tell you how I got from noticing my breath to replaying a Seinfeld episode line for line in my head. Today I was able to track at least one trail of breadcrumbs my thoughts dropped as they skipped merrily through the dark forest of my pinball mind.

Inhale, watching the breath come in my nostrils, down my throat, into my chest and my belly. Watch the exhale as it leaves my belly…

This feels good. I’m in a rhythm now. I’m looking forward to going to that new Zendo with Lynn tonight. She likes this Zendo, doesn’t care for that other one. She may start going to the one Ruth leads when she goes home.

Ruth is a writer. She nearly finished her novel at that women’s retreat last year. What was that place called? She loved being there.

Stephen King doesn’t  much care for writing retreats.

I can see myself at a writing retreat. It’s night, just after dinner and everyone is reading what they’ve written for the day. I’m reading a piece that I think is worthy of a Pultizer Prize or The Governor General’s Award, but judging by the blank stares of the other writers they don’t agree with my assessment. No, not me, Maggie Gyllenhaal. She’d be good to play the part of me. I remember her in “Secretary“. I loved that movie. Her brother is Jake Gyllenhaal. He’s cute. How do you spell Gyllenhaal? I can see the resemblance in the two of them. They’re standing next to each other as some awards show and…

Oh. How did I get here? Gyllenhaals, writing retreat, Stephen King, Zendos, meditation…right.

Breathing in through the nostrils…


  1. impeccable description of the entrance to our inner world; ego, the gatekeeper is tough like the troll under the bridge……..
    The T.V. stuff is the worst, so embedded.

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