It’s getting lengthy. No, I’m not talking about the blog, thank you very much, I’m talking about the sun-gazing. Each individual gazing session is almost six minutes now. My eyeballs are being power-washed by the sun in longer and longer bursts every day. I feel the cataracts of misconception and pre-conceived notion flaking off my dusty eyes with each new sun-blasting. This practice, also called Sun Yoga, like any yoga, is having the promised result of creating more awareness. I can see the dissenters in the tribal council of my mind and easily wave them off. I can hear The Judge’s voice specifically, menacing, booming but benign. And The Victim, all out-raged and pissed the fuck off, and wounded, he reminds me, seriously wounded. Then there is The Prosecutor, perhaps the most dangerous of all the voices, feeding me self-loathing while sounding reasonable. “Well, you did say you were gonna stop eating junk food so it’s only right The Judge find you guilty for enjoying a pastry for breakfast.” Yeah, I agree, that sounds right. I do suck. “And don’t forget,” The Prosecutor continues “you’ve never had a serious relationship, which means you will most certainly end up alone, so why don’t you just let The Victim cry in peace and stop judging yourself.” Wait, what? Was I the one judging. No way, you were judging me. The Prosecutor just laughs. What the fuck was so funny? “I am you” he counters back, laughing harder. Almost cackling.
Before the sun-gazing I used to get lost in all this mental drama. I would hop into the car, race right down that courtroom in my mind and start asking questions and demanding answers. And I’d be held in contempt. Sometimes I’d sit on the couch going over the court transcripts for hours, trying to figure out what was true, what wasn’t, and how did I end up in this courthouse cell? And god forbid I find out some uglier stuff I didn’t already know about myself. Outcome: likely. Until recently. Now I can pick those voices more easily out of the din inside my head. This part of me that can hear those other voices, the Spectator, if you will, he’s aware of the whole drama, but he’s not a part of it. As soon as the Spectator zeros in on this chatter he can decide to lose interest, stand up and walk outside and down the courthouse steps to the park. That’s what I do now, both figuratively and literally, I walk to the park. The voices are replaced by birds and dogs and sunlight. And the Spectator is getting some fresh air for a change. Court is adjourned!
SIDE EFFECTS: I do have a mild ache behind my eyes just after finishing today. Not in my eyes, but behind them and in my forehead.
BENEFITS: I can hear myself think again now that court is no longer in session. Testifying against yourself can get very exhausting.
