Here’s to September

No, I didn’t expect the first day of September to be like this. The day was fine to start with, but you can’t always have control over your days.

A week ago, I promised myself and a friend to do the 10-day Vipassana course at home. I’m seven days in, but I can’t say I’m doing it properly, not even two hours a day. The original way entails 10 hours a day.

This is how you advance. However, you need to grant yourself time and patience when you start from so low. It sucks when you’re in a hurry to fix your mind. It’s not like you have noble silence.

Things should be simple:

When you don’t want something, you don’t want it.

When you’re not ready, you’re not ready.

If these things are clear and shared, there’s nothing else for you to do.


I set my alarm for half six in the morning to get up and meditate for two hours straight. It’s the quietest time of the day for me where I can expect no interruption. I feel more focused, too, because I’m sober, although half-awake.

At a Vipassana school, the first meditation of the day starts at 4:30 a.m. You meditate for two hours before breakfast. That’s what I’m doing, minus the other eight hours that I should be doing.


It’s easy to blame everything on COVID, but hasn’t it taught us a lot about what we are capable of and what we need to learn about ourselves? You are supposed to think that others have it way worse than you—really, though?

How about being grateful for what you have instead? Both are clichés, but at least the latter sounds more doable. What you refer to as other people’s worse situations can’t be compared to yours—not emotionally. YOU ARE EXPERIENCING DIFFERENT ISSUES. AND EVERYONE IS FUCKING DIFFERENT.


I’ve heard enough, though. The more selfless you think you are, the more selfish you are to others. You think so independently that mutual decisions remain undone.

So they resent you.

What is this fear to compromise? There are many little details which no one talks about. Either they’re too private, or they’re saving them for their memoir.

OR, they don’t want to burden you with their problems. I hate that the most—when you want to lend a friend an ear, and they say it’s nothing. They’ve helped you so much, but when you want to be there for them, they say it’s nothing. Well then, I guess not knowing is better than knowing half of a story.

When you ask a friend how their girlfriend is, they tell you their girlfriend had packed their bags and left without a word one morning—that’s not a full story. There are no details; therefore, you can’t judge. In fact, you get so frustrated that you have to write a story about it yourself to find closure. Friends share deep and meaningful stories. But the majority likes to remain on the surface, which is fine. I’m just saying I don’t.


Is this the last full moon of the summer? There are more negative energies than positive ones; can it please stop?

In the last seven days, I’ve been stuck in anapana; I’m not even ready for Vipassana. Instead of staying present, my fucking mind travels into the past and then to the what-if future—we have no control over both, and yet, I dwell. Therefore, in the last seven days, I’ve been reminding myself to stay present, but I want to escape so badly. I don’t know how to find my own truth, but I’m doing what it takes.


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