In the scheme of things, my life and I are not very important. When the history of our time is written, I doubt me and my very small life will be mentioned or discussed.

I write about myself often, but I am not all that interesting, even to me.

So I have learned to step outside of myself, to be bigger than I am. This morning, I’m going to teach my meditation class at the Mansion, a new and powerful spiritual exercise I make sure not to miss.

It only takes 10 or 15 minutes, I always bring meditation beads  (the people in the class lose theirs) and muffins, and I’m playing a series of guided meditations on kindness and safety.

I am surprised at how important these classes are to the six to eight people who attend.

I tend, like many people, to see the advanced elderly as being different than I am, but I have learned that we are not so different from them after all.

Living in a radically different and unnatural environment, far from everything they love, they are often anxious, they miss their lives and loved ones, they often survey and review their lives,  their hopes, and their fragile and uncertain future.

It is a complex time to be alive, and I see that meditation helps them a great deal to center and appreciate what they have rather than what they fear or have lost.

I talk about breathing and focusing, they listen carefully. Some fall asleep during the class, it is hard for them to close their eyes and stay awake. I know when they sleep that they are at peace, that feels good to me.

Stepping out of myself is a good and healthy thing for me, I feel that when I go to Bishop Maginn and when I go to the Mansion. Later today I want to write about how much I love my writing class and the remarkable kids who are taking it.