I woke from two very strange dreams, one very early in the morning, maybe between 4 and 5am, and then the second when my alarm went off. Unfortunately that’s all I can tell you about them: they were strange. By the time I was in the shower, all detail had been forgotten. I’ve put one of those little dictaphone thingies on my bedside table, to see if I can record little bits about the dreams as soon as I wake up. I’ve tried keeping paper and pencil by the bedside before, but never managed to record anything, maybe because sitting up and turning a light on and writing is too much of a change from the dream-state. Flicking a switch and talking might work…
Terrible session again. Distracted, tired, droopy-eyed. Lots of ego stuff, and fantasy and so on. But I did it.
I’m writing this entire entry on Saturday, in fact, as I had an unexpected house-guest last night, a poor friend-of-a-friend soul stranded in Bristol by the travel chaos caused by the floods which swept the UK. I didn’t, therefore, have any time for writing. It’s also nearly 4pm and I haven’t meditated yet today, because I foolishly didn’t just get on with it when I got up, even though I had plenty of time and space.
I did at least read some of David Fontana’s The Meditator’s Handbook, which I mentioned on day nineteen. That was quite inspiring, and makes me even more inclined to hook up with some people who practise Zen around here.
I’ll try to meditate later, perhaps after a power nap so that I don’t just fall asleep!