Today’s challenge was: Do something by yourself, all alone. … Turn your phone off and go! Be unreachable to the world and reacquaint yourself with yourself!
I figured this one would be a piece of cake. After all, I am alone pretty much all day, every day, at least while my husband is at work. I work for myself, and that works best when there is silence. Hard to focus on editing or writing when music is playing or the TV is on.
But the true question remains: Is that really “quality” silence? Am I ever really “disconnected” – from the Internet, the phone, reading material or (most of all) the committee in my head? (You know the one I mean, the one that meets at 2 AM to review all the things you could have done, have to do, wish you could do, etc.)
And that brings me to the topic of meditation.
Meditation is something that I’ve never quite mastered, like skiing only not as likely to cripple me for life. I have tried it in yoga classes, alone in a room, walking, sitting cross-legged, listening to music … and still I can’t seem to get the hang of it.
So for today’s challenge I thought I would try it again.
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I opted for walking meditation, which is the type that’s come closest to working for me in the past. The basic idea, according to the website I consulted (see below), is to “use the experience of walking as our focus. We become mindful of our experience while walking, and try to keep our awareness involved with the experience of walking.” It also suggests that we be aware of the things outside ourselves, such as “the wind, the sun, and the rain; and the sounds of nature and of humans and machines.”
(See http://www.wildmind.org/walking/overview - This website is nothing if not practical. For example, they remind me that I should practice walking meditation with my eyes open. Good point, just in case I forgot.)
I turned off my cell phone (though I did slip it into my pocket) and set out. For the first half block my mind was on not getting hit by the speeding cars, so I decided to really start meditating when I reached the quieter side street.
Then I met a friend who stopped to chat. No sweat, I will start meditating right after we finish talking.
Once I was alone again, it was time to focus. In order to quiet the committee, which was already brooding over tonight’s dinner, my Christmas list, and (of course) writing this blog, I decided to use a mantra. One of my favorites is, “Breathe in faith; breathe out fear,” so I began consciously repeating this in my head to drown out the meeting attendees who were busily discussing holiday shopping.
Ah, this is good. Notice the gray clouds rolling by, notice the geese gathered in the field, notice the fallen autumn leaves, notice the stiff breeze … notice the raindrops on the ground. Uh-oh. The raindrops on the ground. I am at the farthest point of my walk – about a mile and a half from home – and it is starting to rain. BREATHE IN FAITH, BREATHE OUT FEAR. It’s only rain, it’s not going to kill me. I have a hat on. I am wearing a hoody. My iPhone is protected in my pocket. All is right with the universe.
Should I turn around or go to my usual stopping point? Turn around now! No, don’t be such a wuss. Turn around – your luck it will start to downpour. No, the sun is trying to poke through the clouds. Turn around … NO. BREATHE IN FAITH DAMMIT AND BREATHE OUT F***ING FEAR!!!!!!
Calming myself, resuming my mantra, and slowing my speeding pace, I went to my usual turnaround spot and headed back. The rain stopped. I smiled. Got back into the rhythmic breathing. Geese. Clouds. Leaves. Breeze.
I started thinking about being by myself. How I pretty much grew up thinking that being alone was the norm, as the only child of an only child and the granddaughter of two strong-minded, independent, entrepreneurial women. And how hard it is for me to understand people who find being alone not only a challenge but a fearful undertaking.
I found myself being grateful for the ability to be comfortable enough in my own skin to spend long stretches of time alone. And about the difference between being alone and being lonely.
There’s a song called “Everywhere I Go, There I Am” that talks about a woman’s attempts to escape her situation by moving elsewhere … except that when she does, she finds that she still has herself to deal with. I think about that feeling – one I’ve had in the past but not for a long, long time. And again I am grateful.
And then I find myself thinking about God (or Higher Power, or Spirit of the Universe, or whatever you care to call him/her/it) and about how God didn’t create us to be miserable.
And that if it is true that we are made in his image, then we are meant to be comfortable with ourselves.
And that being comfortable with ourselves then logically implies that we are comfortable with God.
And that, I believe, is called meditation.
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