Thursday 17th February 2005
Meditation
10 past 6 and I’m in the quiet Gallery space this morning and no-one had showed up for our Ashtanga self practice session. I took it as an opportunity to sit in meditation for a change. Readjusted the blankets, moved the heater a little closer and put my thick fluffy bedsocks back on. Assumed a balanced half Padmasana and began the descent.
Then Sasha turned up late (after laying in bed going through the “will I, won’t I, why do I, why should I, no I won’t, dammit yes I will”, routine that we all know so well!)
For a moment I pondered doing the practice with her, then decided not to. The prospect of a full hour and a half of meditation seemed more inviting and more challenging. Sasha I think did a full primary practice but she was especially quiet about it because I was sitting, so it wasn’t distracting at all. Being able to sit for a solid amount of time is a rare gift for me so I blocked out Sasha’s presence and collected myself into an autonomous, self-absorbed cocoon.
Once established in a stable position, having adjusted and aligned my body so the spinal energy was unobstructed, pratyahara began…withdrawing the senses – sometimes it just happens naturally if the mind is not too disturbed. The turning inward of the mind feels like finally coming home – you feel like you’re moving towards an open door, it’s beckoning you, drawing you closer, inviting and welcoming. Outer distractions of noise and movement hold no allure, you turn towards home and don’t look back.
Then dharana, concentration, for me this is watching the breath movement at the tip of the nose as it enters and leaves the body. My attention wavers, the mind running all over the place. Over and over I keep bringing it back to the breath, then when I’m not looking, it runs away again. Again and again and again I bring it back. I watch the breath change and all the subtle qualities and nuances that I notice become fascinating. I love passing through this part of the journey, this intimate relating with the breath. I fall in love with my breath and want to see it and feel it from every possible angle, watch it move, discover its moods and the changing rainbow of breath colours.
Once the mind has quietened down a little, there is the conscious attempt to let go of the focus on the breath and move more deeply into a truer meditative state – dhyana. This morning I used each exhalation to let go…let go of everything in my life, as if I had just died and all my obligations, responsibilities, relationships, possessions no longer mattered. At that shocking point of death, when we realize death has truly come, and it’s final, we will see the futility of clinging on to what we had in our life. What a revelation it is to know this truth while I’m still alive.
Meditation can bring about this profound realization that beneath our lives we are at peace. It is always there.
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Meditation
10 past 6 and I’m in the quiet Gallery space this morning and no-one had showed up for our Ashtanga self practice session. I took it as an opportunity to sit in meditation for a change. Readjusted the blankets, moved the heater a little closer and put my thick fluffy bedsocks back on. Assumed a balanced half Padmasana and began the descent.
Then Sasha turned up late (after laying in bed going through the “will I, won’t I, why do I, why should I, no I won’t, dammit yes I will”, routine that we all know so well!)
For a moment I pondered doing the practice with her, then decided not to. The prospect of a full hour and a half of meditation seemed more inviting and more challenging. Sasha I think did a full primary practice but she was especially quiet about it because I was sitting, so it wasn’t distracting at all. Being able to sit for a solid amount of time is a rare gift for me so I blocked out Sasha’s presence and collected myself into an autonomous, self-absorbed cocoon.
Once established in a stable position, having adjusted and aligned my body so the spinal energy was unobstructed, pratyahara began…withdrawing the senses – sometimes it just happens naturally if the mind is not too disturbed. The turning inward of the mind feels like finally coming home – you feel like you’re moving towards an open door, it’s beckoning you, drawing you closer, inviting and welcoming. Outer distractions of noise and movement hold no allure, you turn towards home and don’t look back.
Then dharana, concentration, for me this is watching the breath movement at the tip of the nose as it enters and leaves the body. My attention wavers, the mind running all over the place. Over and over I keep bringing it back to the breath, then when I’m not looking, it runs away again. Again and again and again I bring it back. I watch the breath change and all the subtle qualities and nuances that I notice become fascinating. I love passing through this part of the journey, this intimate relating with the breath. I fall in love with my breath and want to see it and feel it from every possible angle, watch it move, discover its moods and the changing rainbow of breath colours.
Once the mind has quietened down a little, there is the conscious attempt to let go of the focus on the breath and move more deeply into a truer meditative state – dhyana. This morning I used each exhalation to let go…let go of everything in my life, as if I had just died and all my obligations, responsibilities, relationships, possessions no longer mattered. At that shocking point of death, when we realize death has truly come, and it’s final, we will see the futility of clinging on to what we had in our life. What a revelation it is to know this truth while I’m still alive.
Meditation can bring about this profound realization that beneath our lives we are at peace. It is always there.
________________________________________________________________________________________________
