Going Within

“From a small seed a mighty trunk may grow.” – Aeschylus

Greetings to all, and I hope the last two months of summer were wonderful for everyone.

Wow, it has been quite a while since I sat down and wrote. What happened to me? I was simply living life. My sons and I took a trip to New Mexico and Colorado. We spent time with close friends, and time together with just the three of us. We watched for bears, hiked, visited places we loved and explored new ones. I worked my nonprofit-social work job and within that created two day-long presentations, brought a few projects from my mind into reality, all the while feeling blessed that within my work there is so much room for expression and creativity. 

We got the school year started, and last week at work I facilitated a retreat for a group of non-profit executive directors at a state park called Quartz Mountain. In preparing for those three days, I took of my usual professional hat, creating room to develop a presentation that enabled us to explore neuroplasticity; have fun, new experiences and bring what we learned personally to our jobs.
 
But I wasn't writing and it bothered me. I felt unusually silent. Yet, within my silence I was aware of a deep, inner stillness. I felt peace. I felt a quiet joy.
 
There is usually a reason when we feel we need to be quiet and go within. Often there is a seed - an idea, wisdom, or understanding- that is taking root.

I feel myself emerging from my quiet space, and am going to trust that from a small seed a mighty trunk may grow. As autumn approaches, stirring the mystical inside of me,  I am awaiting epiphanies.
 
Wishing Epiphanies for Us All,
 
Sheryl

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