The first thing my husband said to me this morning, after he reset his 5 AM alarm for 5:30, was "I hope you'll have time to meditate today." He was bothered by the way I crashed around the bed and tore up the sheets. There's very little that aggravates me more than when he sets his alarm for an ungodly early time and then doesn't adhere to his own schedule. "Oh, I'll have time alright, considering how long of a day I have ahead of me. I'll have time, but I'll still be annoyed."
Joe expects now that I meditate, my demeanor will improve. I'll lose my sarcasm. I'll turn into a nice person.
The fact is, I did fall back asleep. Then, I had vivid and disturbing dreams. I was chased by a man. I suffered a gun shot to the ear. Not exactly the dreams of someone ensconced in serenity. I'd hoped, I guess in the same way Joe did, the meditation would soothe me, put all my frustrations into perspective. Where is that inner peace and serenity? Did I mention the desk in my stepson's room was covered with dirty dishes and dirty socks?
It's been a long day, but on the bright side, I accomplished much of the day's to do list and that includes twenty minutes of meditation.