The [re]beginnings of meditation

It has been over-long since my last meditation. I take a few minutes when I am terribly stressed out or in extreme amounts of physical pain to do a few deep-breathing exercises, but real meditation has been scarce for me in the past year or so.

The setting: my newly cleaned kitchen. Sitting comfortably at my kitchen table in my ugliest and most comfortable brown pants, I have before me a small green bowl. It is filled with two pine cones, two leaves from a local tree, and a small sprig of pine needles. I've got a brown candle lit (a handmade gift from my mother) and the room is dim and cool. My husband has the three cats at the back of the house, and I am -for all intents- all by myself.

The goal: to get back in tune with my body; to realign that which is un-centered and off-balance within me. This meditation, the first in a long time, is marked by many distractions: my nasal passages are dry; I'm thirsty; my lips are chapped; I have to pee; my bangs are tickling my forehead; my knees hurt. Oy vey. I've just picked up the latest Shambhala Sun and read of a technique which involves allowing the mind to wander and gently recognizing that which is distracting with a word while guiding the mind back to one's breathing. I tried this, and it proved very difficult for me. I've been using meditation as a regular part of my practice for years; I have many techniques I've used and I've advised others about successful meditation, but the past year is the longest I've gone without really making time for regular meditations. I feel as though I'm starting all over, and it's somewhat discouraging. Tomorrow I'll pee, apply lip balm, take a sip of water, and trim my bangs before I start.