Looking at Paintings

I strained my shoulder at my girlfriend's house last weekend. There was a memorial day party, and there was rain and mud on the deck and I love to be barefoot...so I slipped and have been feeling sore since. It's one of those kind of injuries where everything seems okay and then I sneeze and for ten minutes it's a long owwwwwwmygod.

So I've had to streamline what I do. My attention has been on my body and how I move it. At first it was awkward and I was feeling badly for myself. But then I got used to taking things slowly and carefully. The great thing is there was very little attention left-over for obsessive thoughts. So a lot of my awareness has been at painting level. That's the way of observing that's used for looking at paintings in museums. It's a nice noticing. "I'm breathing. It's neat how my bones move with my breath. Thank God I don't have to breath my body, otherwise I think I might forget...I'm sitting in the chair. It's amazing this used to be a tree!...My head itches. Slowly. Slowwwwwly. Ahh, that feels so much better."

The funny thing is initially "the noticing" was a pain in the ass. The loud wanting to be noticed thoughts felt they should take precedence. They needed to be heard. Things that are wrong need to be expressed. But since I became aware that the loud and intrusive thoughts were interfering with my peace of mind, they became a pain in the ass. They were clutter because they weren't helping me in anyway.

My experience is it's not possible to stop my thoughts. And once a thought is out there, I never saw the point in trying to erase it. My mind is made to have thoughts. But it's nice to notice the thoughts that normally go on without question and see they are like a leaking oil pipe in the gulf of my body, spoiling my experiences. It makes me side with other ways of being that make me feel good.