Practice makes perfect.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve relied upon this little nugget of wisdom as a parent when my kiddo whines about not being able to do something. My response has always been; “How do you think I got so good at it? Practice makes perfect; get to it.”
Yesterday I was anxious. The kind of anxious that feels like you have a thousand bees buzzing in your head telling you all of the things you need to do, have to worry about, and can’t control. I was miserable; inside and outside.
Fortunately for me, I had a few hours of quiet time at the end of the day .Quiet for me is heaven. Quiet in the morning gives me time to meditate, and to take in just how fortunate I am. It’s never a process whereby I sit cross-legged on a cushion wearing a mala made in Bali or a tunic made of hemp. No. It’s simply sitting with my thoughts.
Last night, in the quiet of solitude, I was able to spend some time reading the words of Thich Nhat Hanh. It reminded me that my practice is not perfect. Far from it in fact. Just because I studied at the temple, attended dharma classes and go to silent retreats does not mean that my meditation muscle is exempt from a good workout on a regular basis.
As adults, we forget that our health as a whole is something that we need to practice on a regular basis.
It’s time for me to make space for some of the books and advice that I’ve gotten in the past. It’s time to make an effort again putting theory into practice.
It’s time for the genius of silence, and for my practice of peace to become a little bit more perfect.