I sit down. But it's hard to pay attention because I'm holding a grudge. My heart is a block of ice. The world has refused to be what I thought I wanted. I'm not willing to forgive it. And so I'm freezing it out.
Every time I try to be mindful, my attention slips on the ice of this cardinal grudge and skids off into fantasy or memory.
To sit for minutes (or hours, or days) at a time, I have to forgive what is given for being what it is rather than what I thought I'd wanted. I have to forgive that white wall. Again and again and again, I must muster a spirit of pardon - a spirit of pardon that, in order to gain purchase, must also include absolution for my own block of ice.
Only a general amnesty can animate mindfulness.
