When I first come to my cushion to meditate my mind is usually busy and all I notice are the coarse sensations in my body. I feel aches and pains in my muscles and joints. I start to think about all of the things I have forgotten to do and want to get up and make a quick to-do list. "Notice the breath, " I tell myself. After about eight breaths, I begin to dream up new projects. "Start again, " I tell myself. I keep going back to feeling my breath, but my mind is not cooperating.

Eventually, if it's a good day, the number of breaths I take increases before my mind wanders off. If I get to a place where my mind starts to focus more fully on the sensations in my body and escape the near constant flow of thoughts, I begin to notice a resonance. I sense an energy in my body that is moving rhythmically. It's as if I can feel the smallest sub-atomic particles that make up my cells vibrating in unison. As I move my attention through my body, noticing the vibration, it gets more or less intense in different spots.

From there, my thoughts don't exactly stop, but they gently bounce back and forth between experiencing the flow of the moment and noticing how cool it is and wanting it to keep going. I can hear my teacher warning me against "playing with sensation", but I find myself experimenting with the vibrations trying to see if I can control the intensity. The more I try, the more I am reminded of the primary teaching of this practice: nothing persists, everything is impermanent. Luckily, the unpleasant sensation in my muscles and joints is just as impermanent as the bliss.