Sitting around idly in my childhood was frowned upon because laziness, as it was thought to be, was not tolerated. If you weren’t actively doing something you were of no apparent worth. Day dreaming was a waste of time and action, my grandfather would say, was what the world needed. And, according to him, it didn’t matter what you were feeling or thinking at the time, as long as you did something that counted toward the solution. I learned to jump into action quickly and although being engaged was satisfying on some powerful level, I began to notice that the state of mind from which I acted had the power to make an already challenging situation worse. I never heard my Grandfather talk about thinking or mind or awareness, just action. And when I began to consider my inner life, and take more time sitting still to access my quiet mind, I had to face the substantial voices in my head I inherited from him telling me I was shirking my duty, avoiding my obligation and hiding behind my spirituality.
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