dependent arising

This morning I went to the Kurukulla Center with Stephanie to hear the venerable Robina Courtin, a fat old Australian (her words) nun, speak about emptiness and truth. I came home and felt both reinvigorated by her words and exhausted by the cold I've been combating. Her humor and searing wit kept me riveted while the imbalances in my body (grossly aggravated by forgotten medication) poked at me with icy, sweaty hands and tormented my jittery, hungry stomach.
Despite Ethan's loud band practice in the basement (they weren't bad!), I laid down in my bed with Metta and wrapped the down comforter around me. Laying prostrate - not in tradition but in the literal sense - I dozed off and on but mostly laid in thought for the next five hours.
I tried to practice the difficult concepts she had taught: separating the objective truths from the my "viewpoints" and added "embellishments." So little of what we think is actually objective truth. The stories we tell ourselves are laden with feelings and leaps of thought. Assumptions and perceptions.
Too tired to do so, I thought about all the writing I need to do about the things in my life that cause me struggle and strife. About my current difficulties and emotional pain. All the emotions that I feel ashamed of and try to punish away. It can feel as though they're keeping me hostage.
How helpful it could be to tease apart the grains of objective reality from the billowing clouds of emotion and story-telling. Taking apart the personal responsibility from behind the smokescreen of "it's all your fault"s. And, in my case, how very difficult it is to do all this before I forget how or what it is I should be doing.

I have a lot to be thankful for. My god, a lot. An infinite amount to be thankful for!
I should spend more time meditating on that...