I wrote up this morning with a distinct feeling of dread because I knew my wife wanted me to drive to Brooklyn, drop of the car and find parking. Sounds easy enough but I knew the parking situation would be horrible on this cold autumn day (and its Park Slope which is filed with Subarus and Volvos) and I always have anxiety about driving.
Still, in perspective, these are completely first-world problems that barely deserve mention and were it not for my commitment to spiritual development I may well never have mentioned it. Nonetheless, my aggravation and anxiety around these issues and the other minutiae of middle-class, urban existence beg for some kind of attention. How does one deal with the very real frustration of spending an hour rising the streets looking for parking without going to blame or resentment? What about setting the train does close in one’s face ad you serious through the turnstile?
Today the best I have been able to muster is restraint of speech and thought which is a good start. May I build on such small victories until I one day completely purify the heart.
Cattāri Brahmavihārā 
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