Waking up is always a bit of an issue. It didn’t use to be. It used to be a surge of energy and excitement about the day to come. Plans used to tumble over one another in my head, each sparking the next surge of pleasure at all the possibilities of the day. It still is that way, actually. Except that now the plans seem more like hurdles that will topple over, dragging me under. Now the surges are of anxiety and guilt and lack of self confidence, rather than of enticement. As I said, waking up is a bit of an issue.
I am hopeful, however. Meditation, yes, that spiritual beast that I have scoffed upon for most of my life and that only works when I can a) dismiss the spirituality (not that I don’t value or respect it, it’s just not something that my atheist mind can or wants to do in any spiritual manner) and b) let go of the idea that somehow the mind has to be blank. Whoever came up with the idea that meditation requires you not to think, can’t have been right. Unless you do nothing but meditate all day, maybe you can reach that “level”. But in my experience, the idea that you’re not supposed to think just makes you feel guilty about thinking about how you’re not supposed to think, because that’s a thought to and oh no, now I’m thinking about how I’m guilty because I’m thinking about how I’m not supposed to be thinking and … loop of craziness ensues. No. What does work is when I am fine with the thoughts entering my head, but then relegate them to the void of ‘not right now’. And when I’m allowed to “think” about the sensations I’m feeling. There is thinking in meditation. Only it’s an observational kind of thinking. A focused kind of thinking. A calm kind of thinking. And I like that kind.
The calm kind of thinking translates the surges of fear into surges of energy. The calm kind of thinking tricks me into feeling like I can do this. And maybe a trick is all it takes to get going.
Post-meditation, I am a ball of wibbly-wobbly fear-excitement, doubt-confidence and happy-sadness. And this is what I take to my desk. To my laptop. To the Breton double subject pattern, which will fit into my chapter on resumption, where I talk about a couple of analyses of possessive relations expressed with two possessor elements: one in a non-possessive position where it does some weird “hi, look at me, I need attention” action, and a small one which is where it’s supposed to be and which whispers “I also have some sort of relation to this dude next to me.” Possessive resumption is a little like a movie star, traipsing around on the red carpet, getting their picture taken, getting interviewed, soaking in all the glitter, glamour and attention after having handed out headshots to cast directors. There’s this little bit of them that looks like them and that is the property of the people they actually work for, but they prefer to make everything about them in some other location.
Some tea. A (gluten-free because my body fails to digest things properly) cracker with peanut butter and bananas (a childhood favourite combination). A wordpress post. And now it’s time to get the deets down on Breton.