Ever notice that the more you can’t do something, or you’re not supposed to, the more you want to do it? Take meditation. You’re meant to quiet your mind, watch your thoughts, maybe return to your breath every time you notice your attention straying. Hopefully, you’re spending some quality time turning your awareness inward.
So why is it every time that happens, your nose starts to itch something fierce? Or your leg falls asleep, or you literally cannot stop thinking about what you’re going to have for lunch? A few minutes ago, you were fine. But now that things are quiet, the completely ridiculous thoughts are marching forward to take over your consciousnes. And that’s all there is to it.
I thought a lot about the itch today. The need to keep scratching, even though that may not be the best thing for us in the long run. I thought about it as I was meditating, and again when I was standing behind a little kid on an escalator. He couldn’t stop his leg from moving, or his teeth grinding, or from pulling on his mom’s leg. He was like a little meth addict wanting … I don’t know, something other than what he had.
I thought about it after I hung up the phone with a client who just wants what she wants, and isn’t about to be dissuaded from a reality that doesn’t serve her highest good. She just wants it, and will keep scratching until it bleeds. My sadness and continued advice may or may not ever get her to see it in a different way.
Maybe the itch never goes away. Maybe it’s not supposed to. We can reframe and meditate and chant all we want, and maybe that itch will keep being there until we’re savvy enough not to react to it. That would be a truly beautiful world, wouldn’t it?