Meditation

“For what is prayer but expansion of your self into the living ether?”                                             - Kahlil Gibran

 “In the modern world, meditation is far more effective as a technique of self-management than as a means of personal transformation, much less enlightenment,” was what I read this morning as I sipped my tea, scrolling through articles in the New York Times. I should probably mention that this was after my daily ritual of meditation and prayer.

There was something about the article I fundamentally disagreed with. Later, I went back to it again with an open mind; in hope that it would help me better understand the perspective of the writer. As I did so, I began to recognize the degree to which meditation has been adapted to fit our cultural expectations. We in the west like data that demonstrates proof that something is worth our time and effort. Claims that meditation lowers cortisol levels, reduces stress, increases job performance, aids in alleviating depression, and improves a sense of well being and inner peace are the “whys;” the reasons that meditation has in many ways made it’s way into our mainstream, and even corporate, culture. As I read on, I noted that the article was speaking of mindfulness meditation; a practice with roots in Buddhism that has become a part of our mainstream definition of meditation—which I admittedly know very little about. In my more than 25 years of meditation, I simply have never pursued that method of reaching a meditative state.

I have always thought of meditation as reaching out to God (Spirit or All That Is), and in the silence and stillness, listening. For me, it is not a health/stress reduction practice, but a spiritual connection, the steps to which are a well worn path. Through it I have gained insight and clarity on my life circumstances.

There is what I call the waiting; my internal chatter still at play, I sit patiently waiting for that subtle shift in my consciousness which enables me to feel the presence. 

Then there is the connection; I let that energetic presence flow through me and surround me. And as I do so, move deeper and deeper into a meditative state. 

And last there is the return; I open my eyes, not remembering exactly where I have been, but filled with a sense of awe and peace.

I will never know what my life would have been like the past 25 years without my meditative practice, and in spite of it I have had my share of tough times and heartache. I will never know if meditation helped facilitate the experience that led to the writing of Timeless Waters, or if that past life journey would have happened anyway.

What I do know is that when Gibran refers to prayer as “the expansion on your self into the living ether,” it speaks to my soul. The living ether is home, and I hope to visit it many times before I return for good.

Blessings,

Sheryl

January 2014

“For last year's words belong to last year's language and next year's words await another voice.” 

— T.S. Eliot

In what has now become a tradition, I hosted my annual New Year’s gathering; a lovely brunch and women’s circle, complete with a preparatory assignment and a ritual of release. As we sat in an opening meditation and prayer, I felt a powerful energy surging through the room as these women, all amazing in their own unique ways, joined their intentions.

The closing activity was to write a letter to your self, just as we did last year. Because I already had given it some thought, I knew the overall tone of what I would be writing, but first things first; I needed to read what I wrote January 1, 2013. I tore the envelope and gently unfolded the paper, unable to remember what I had to say to myself twelve months ago.

As I read the first paragraph, my heart began to sink. “What?” I said to myself.  Much to my surprise, it was in many ways the same letter I was going to write myself this year. How, after what felt like a year of growth, could that be? Had I made no progress whatsoever?

 When my guests were gone and the kitchen had been cleaned, I sat down with the letter, the journal I had started last winter, and began a “year in review” through my writing. As I read my inner thoughts and feeling states in my journal entries, it slowly became clear that the overarching themes pressing me forward at the beginning of 2013 are, in fact, the same as they are today. But I also realized I am not the same person I was when I wrote a year ago; my insight has expanded, my understanding has deepened, and my joys were many.

So, now I must find next year’s voice. Within the context of those consistent overarching themes, who do I want to be? What do I want to accomplish? What dream can I bring to fruition? As I sit down to write my letter for 2014, I am not quite sure what the answers are to those questions. But I can say I am excited to find out.

Many Blessings in this New Year,

Sheryl

Tending Garden

The past few years have included a good deal of change for me.  While ultimately, I know much of it has been good, I have felt overwhelmed with the lyrics "I'm in over my head, over my head" playing over and over again in my mind.  I started evaluating work load and asked what could be hired out?  What could I afford to get help with?  The answer was not near enough!

So, as I do every spring, I begin the process of cleaning out the garden.  I raked out the winter accumulation of leaves.  I pulled weeds and raked out the brown and dry perennials from the previous season.  Beneath the mess, new plant growth was already pushing through the earth.  The fresh smelling soil was  dark and moist and I realized something I have known in years past but have forgotten; the garden is just like me.  Working in the garden is a moving meditation.

As I clear out the old growth and pull weeds, I metaphorically clear the clutter of my mind; I sort out what needs to be saved and what is no longer alive.  As I tend to the new plants emerging through the soil, I energetically recognize that in myself which is the process of becoming.  And this year as I planted bright petunias for the sheer joy they will provide me this summer, and added a few perennials, I gave myself a gift.  In tending the garden, I find the peace and silence to tend to Self. 

I don't think that I will be hiring out the garden any time soon.

Blessings, 
Sheryl