This track includes ten minutes of meditation practice; if that feels like a lot to you, maybe start at the beginning!
Turn on the TV, get comfy, and play this track after you’ve watched the episode: The Pods (Season Two, Episode Thirteen).
P.S. If you’re curious, here you can find out why I started this project.
Recording Transcript (Meditation Begins at 2:50)
Hello again, adventurer!
I don’t know about you, but I sure am excited for the ice cream marathon. But before that, we have some 2/3 good beans to take care of.
As we continue our practice of equanimity, as we get clearer about the things our mind says, it’s easy to look inward and say, “Well, you should just let go, man.” And sometimes that works. But sometimes, our mind will protest. We will need a little more support, a little more reassurance, or a “being whose spirit is brave and pure to take over [our] quest.”
In a couple of sessions, as we transition away from a practice of equanimity to a practice of care, we may discover new strategies for being with “stickier” parts of our experience. Often times, when we aren’t able to simply “let things go” it’s because we care about them. Sometimes this caring can hurt, it can prevent us from the bliss of turning back into a gnome knight and having our dusty ashes whisked away by the wind. And in these moments, sometimes it helps to turn toward the care, to honor our needs and boundaries as an extension of that care, even if it keeps us holding on in a painful way.
But for nowwww we’re still practicing equanimity. Because our attachment, even to good things like the ice cream marathon, can lead us to make choices that are… only good, say… 2 out of 3 times.
We aren’t always the best judge of what is “good,” “gooder,” and “goodest.” And sometimes, things take time to reveal themselves. But adopting a spirit of equanimity can help us welcome things as they are, rather than as we would like them to be. And to “stay alert” to developments within our experiences, and the judgments we make about those experience.
Whether we’re eager to get to the ice cream marathon, devoting ourselves to stay awake to keep watch over bean pods, or ready to pass on our quest so we can get some rest, equanimity can provide us with the space to welcome more of our experience. Some things will go as we plan, and many won’t. We may ask ourselves “shouldn’t we conserve our energy?” only to find ourselves moments later agreeing to a new quest.
And equanimity can help us roll with these punches. To adapt to circumstances as they change. To make room for uncertainty. And to admit when we were wrong and have to spray adorable costumed pigs with ice cream until they pop.
But before we begin, let us all remember Jake’s sage anti-work advice: “work and fun don’t mix unless you’re a clown.”
