Sunday, September 22, 2019

What I Learned Today

A few months ago, I listened to a presentation given by a man named Carl about his struggle with addiction and his path to recovery. This included practicing meditation, and specifically participating in a local Sangha--a group of people that practices meditation together in community.

I was intrigued.

Since then, I've become convinced that a practice of meditation could be key to keeping my mind and body more connected with one another.

While I do have amazing experiences living in my body, my default setting is living in my head, disconnecting from my body.

Today I visited a local Sangha, the one Carl talked about, for the first time. Here's how the guided meditation went for me, the images coming to me without any effort beyond breathing in and breathing out.

It seems I had an epiphany. Maybe epiphanies. About myself? About the world around me? Maybe both?














We imagine ourselves as a flower.
Breathe in, flower. Breathe out, fresh.
I am one of the gazillion flowers I walked by on Teton Pass this summer.
Suddenly, I am vulnerable on the steep side of the mountain,
at the mercy of brutal elements.
Breathe in, flower, Breathe out, fresh.
I picture basking in the warmth of the sun, being nourished.
Breath in, flower, Breathe out, fresh.
I picture the relief of the rain, so cool after the hot sun,
drinking deeply at my roots, which are holding strong.
I have what I need to live.
I am fresh.

We imagine ourselves as a mountain.
Breathe in, mountain. Breathe out, solid.
I am the maiden,
lying along the top of Mt. Timpanogos with my arms crossed.
Suddenly, I am not solid.
I am vulnerable, struggling to find my balance on the narrow ridge.
Breathe in, mountain. Breathe out, solid.
I am the mountains near Thistle,
washed to the bottom of the canyon when I am too saturated with rain.
Breathe in, mountain. Breathe out, solid.
I am the scree at the base of a crag in Rock Canyon,
hoping hikers know what they are getting into if they cross over me.
Breathe in, mountain. Breathe out, solid.
I am the Wasatch Front, riddled by faults.
Breathe in, mountain. Breathe out, solid.
I am an ancient volcano, spewing ash and lava.
I breathe in; I breathe out. I breathe in; I breathe out.
But I can't imagine the mountains are solid.
Am I?

We imagine ourselves as water.
Breathe in, water. Breathe out, still.
I am floating on the surface under the moon and stars.
I am in my element.
Breathe in, water. Breathe out, still.
I am dozens of feet down in the Caribbean Sea, below the waves,
watching a sea turtle twice my size swim past without disturbing a thing.
I am still.

We imagine ourselves as the sky.
Breathe in, sky. Breathe out, free.
I am up on a cliff, the blue sky is vast.
Breathe in, sky. Breathe out, free.
I am up on the cliff, the blue sky is vast, but I am not.
Breathe in, sky. Breathe out, free.
I am up on the cliff, the blue sky is vast.
I stretch my arms wide; I refuse to stay small.
The blue sky is vast, and so am I.
I am free.