Author: Heath

I have a weirdly deep sense of loyalty. Even to stupid trivial things. I’m also a sucker for “streaks” which is why so many apps use them. For example, I started meditating in 2014 and started using the “Insight Timer” app. I currently have a 3691 day streak of meditating. In 2019 when I came back from 7 months on the cruise ship, I learned TM (Transcendental Meditation). Since then I still used Insight Timer to time my mediations. I just learned yesterday that TM now has it’s own official app. I downloaded it as there is exclusive “refresher” videos and such only available on the app (and only available if you’ve paid in the past to take the TM course). You can also get one on one free refreshers with a local instructor any time you want after you’ve taken the course but being able to do it in app appealed to me as well as having a TM specific timer/calendar/streak etc. all in the TM app.

But part of me feels this loyalty to Insight Timer. And if I switch, I’ll lose my streak and start over! Now another part of me thinks “So? Why does that matter?” Good question, me. It really doesn’t. Is that some weird ego feeding thing that it would actually be GOOD for me to let go of? Why should it matter that I have a 10 year history with an app? It’s just a meditation timer. I feel like there’s deeper lessons in this seemingly trivial situation.

I’m a big fan of Eckhart Tolle. As someone who is spiritual but not religious, his books are the closest thing to religion I’ve ever found. They just resonated with me on the deepest levels. I definitely think presence is the goal and the secret to truly being happy.

However I am also very nostalgic which I feel is directly at odds with this. I spend so much thought time in the past. Missing people, places, and experiences I’ve had. I don’t know that it really serves any good purpose other than possibly fueling some great art. It feels like a weight though. When you are nostalgic, the longer you live, the more weight you carry. One thing I came to terms with after years in therapy however is that part of me enjoys it on some level. I’m someone who loves to feel and the past is a quick and easy fix to feel some intense feelings. I’ve definitely strengthened my presence muscle over the years, but the nostalgia muscle is already very developed.

Each night though I am eager to race to bed, I stubbornly resist sleep.
That sweet purgatory, the void space where you have ended the day officially, but unofficially, you squeeze every last moment from it just for yourself.
Tomorrow holds such promise. Tabula rasa. A clean slate. New beginnings.
But then tomorrow becomes just another today, and nothing changes.
The same struggles. The same weights. The same.
You hope for some magical change like a gift from the universe, but it has not come.
Change is hard and must be wrestled from the aether.
Tonight we sleep. Tomorrow we try again.