Meditation

I am, almost certainly, the single largest consumer of therapy you’ve ever encountered. That’s not the problem.

Thirty minutes of meditation, described.

Sometimes, I find it difficult to let go of a fantasy.

On a meditation retreat, I come face to face with my warped perceptions and projections.

Not to take anything away from this blog, or its readers, but I haven’t really missed you. (Winking smiley face.)

An examination of all of the sensations associated with rejected or abandoned. Or imagining I have been.

Upon examination, my anger almost always dissolves into fear.

I’m in pain, with little hope of relief. Ever. And it seems to be producing some intense emotions in me.

A sex addict meditates on the five hindrances. Guess which one predominates.

Bad choices equal not feeling. Meditation equals feeling. I’m two scotches in.