Meditation

I avoid meditation. It's hard to explain this. Every time I've meditated, I've felt it to be a positive experience. I was never traumatized by meditation. No one has persuaded me that I might be harmed by it.

But somehow, I find it almost impossible to choose to meditate alone. Perhaps alone is the key issue here. I associate meditation with solitude, perhaps the greatest solitude one can experience, as attention is usually focused inwardly, on oneself.

I've always fancied myself a lone wolf, someone who likes and appreciates but does not need other people. This is clearly a defense against the anxiety of solitude, which terrifies me in a way I have no words to describe.

I can barely tolerate admitting to myself that I'm afraid of my own shadow, as the cliché goes.

It's time to tend my own garden, pull some weeds.