"You are the poster child for meditation," my lunch date said to me today. "Yes, I am." I say that without sarcasm and without much modesty either. I acknowledge success. I have been meditating on an almost daily basis since February of this year. That's more than eight months ago. (I quickly did this calculation in my head; hope it's right) My success surprises me. Of all the activities and practices I've tried to master over the last fifty-five years, the ones that require steady and sustained effort on a daily basis, those are the ones that give me the most trouble. I've gotten to be pretty good at lots of things, but really, really good at almost nothing. But I've got this meditation thing down. Not to the point where I've found enlightenment, but I do sit in a chair and give it a go almost every day. I've been told by many people that this this is unusual. Most people cannot stick with it as consistently as I have.
I have a theory as to why: I'm counting and I'm accountable.
Numbers are not my thing. I transpose the entries in my check book; as soon as I'm presented with a numerical statistic, the number flies out of my head. It's inevitable that I either already have or I will mess up on the number of days I've recorded in this blog. Still, there seems to be something about the fact that I've kept track of the number of days and I've kept track in a public way that has allowed me to remain consistent in my meditation practice.
Day 255: done. I'm still counting.