Making the time

I live in a seasonal town that gets EXCEPTIONALLY busy in the summer: theatre shows, coffeehouses, bands, canoe trips, birthdays, and a myriad of “special events”. On top of that, I’m in the middle of finishing the creation of my first solo show. Again, I have been missing more sittings than making them.

How to make the time? Well, just make it. If there’s time for swimming, there’s time for meditation. If there’s time for hiking, there’s time for meditation. I f there’s time for dancing…you get the idea. Then why, with all the payoff that meditation brings, has my mind failed to make the association that meditation is wonderful? I have NO problem thinking, “Fire = Fun = Potentially Singing = Food = Friends = Yes”. Yet, in the morning, my mind says, “I would WAY rather sleep for an hour than meditate”. I need external discipline.

I am headed back to a centre in the fall and am hoping that by then I will be sitting even once ever three days.

In the meantime, it’s Emma’s birthday tomorrow as well as the first meeting for anyone interested in participating in the Cabarets. Perhaps I’ll forgo lunch and make time to sit.



About conspicuousluminescence

Patrick shies away from labels but shamelessly flirts with titles. He is an artist focused on producing joy in audiences through the medium of humour. If forced at mathpoint, he might concede to give himself the title of singer, songwriter, writer, dancer, comedian, and even puppeteer. "So he's an actor?" Nope. Patrick's background is in arts administration; he has worked with a number of theatrical festivals including the Vancouver International Fringe Festival, the PUSH International Performing Arts Festival, The Magnetic North Theatre Festival, and the ArtsWells Festival of All Things Art. By using the critical thinking skills he garnered at University and combining them with his appreciation of the tragic elements of drama (i.e. that moment when you realize you are several thousand dollars in debt and only possess a working knowledge of Shakespeare, feminism, and Plato) as well as the comic elements of drama (i.e. the first half of this sentence), Patrick managed to attract a performing job to his doorstep...literally. Having successfully crossed over to the other side of the curtain, he currently teaches stern-faced lessons in a one-room schoolhouse wearing 1870s period costume. "What do you want to be when you grow up?" For Patrick, it was "Fake 1870s Schoolmaster" or bust. His only real ambition is the attainment of real peace, real harmony, and real happiness. A walk-up in Manhattan couldn't hurt either.
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