I teach a small meditation group on Wednesday evenings, in a borrowed room behind a cafe in Vesterbro. Before that I taught yoga. Before that I was an architect. The architecture is, I think, the part that comes through most in how I write — I keep wanting to talk about practice in terms of structure, of load-bearing elements, of what holds.
This journal is for the parts of meditation that the apps don't quite get to. Not the parts about productivity or focus. The parts about what it actually feels like to sit for a long time and have no one to be impressed.
What I write about
- Sitting. As practice, not goal. As work, not relief.
- Breath — what it does, what we ask it to do, what it actually offers
- The structures behind a practice that lasts
- The unglamorous middle years, which are most of the years
What I do not write about
Enlightenment. Awakening. Productivity hacks. Brain-training. Anything that promises a certain mental state as a deliverable. The practice does what it does; it does not respond well to being told what to be.
The Wednesday group
I sit with the same twelve people every Wednesday, in person, in a room. We do not have a website. We do not have a booking link. We meet at seven, sit for forty minutes, talk for twenty, and go home. If you are in Copenhagen and curious, write to me and I will tell you whether there is space.
Writing to me
Email is best — [email protected]. I read everything, reply slowly. Long emails about strange moments in the middle of a sit are my favourite. I keep them.