Something within me resists repeating the same old thing — following the breath, keeping the mind focused, sitting still. I resist the repetition because in the very act of repetition I discover over and over again what the real conditions are within me . . . restlessness . . . need for reassurance . . . fear that life is passing me by and I am missing something . . . the need for distractions, for entertainment. . . .
Why don't I garden and live in this direct way: take up the very same thing again and again and again, and slowly come through to the heart where all things flourish?
I don't have any answers. Resistance is so familiar. It keeps me from feeling the fear of surrendering to the obvious, the fluid way: just doing what needs doing, lending myself year after year to what can grow within me and around me.
— Gunilla Norris, Journeying in Place