I try to meditate daily. I often fail. Sometimes I go for months failing. Despite this, sitting silently on a ratty old cushion provides a center for all the anxiety and chaos this life has to offer. In my practice, negativities and delusions, as well as attachment to all the pleasures and satisfactions of life, are felt in the body. In fact, the mind and the body are seen as one thing, inseparable from each other.
Sometimes when I sit, I feel like a big old collection of rocks, some big, others small, all the way down to the floor.