I think I experienced somewhat of a breakthrough today. It
was an itsy bitsy breakthrough, probably not even worth mentioning. However, I
feel if we didn’t take the time to recognize our growth, no matter how little
it is, then what would be the point of this practice? I believe that in order
to continue to grow, we must see the distances we travel, even if just a few
feet.
Today marks 2 weeks of daily meditation. Setting my alarm
10-15 minutes earlier each morning, before anyone else is up, and finding that
comfortable spot that allows me to delve into silence. I have made it to 15
minutes of stillness so far – a great achievement for me. However, this
practice has certainly not been easy by any means. My mind wanders constantly. I
think of the tasks I have to do that day, the emails I have to write, blurbs I
should include on my new website, recipes I should try. My mind, without any
effort at all, strays from being still to rambling all over the place. But I
continue to bring it back to my breath, no matter where it wanders to. I
envision my lungs split into three sections. As I inhale, I envision the 1st
part of my lungs, which is the bottom part, expanding and filling with fresh, clean
air. Once part 1 is full, part 2, the middle section starts to expand,
overflowing in the 3rd section, the top of my lungs. Once I inhaled
all the air I possibly can, and my lungs are so full they could burst (in a
pleasant, joyful way;), I slowly exhale in reverse. I slowly empty section 3,
then 2, then the bottom of my lungs until the last little bit of air is
completely squeezed out. I wouldn’t say my mind wanders less today then 2 weeks
ago, but I am finding the moments that I am focused and still are now more
intense, for lack of better words. Its as if I can delve deeper into stillness,
deeper into silence, to where I can catch moments of what silence actual hears
like.
This morning, I woke up to rain pouring down. I was
disappointed as I was looking forward to meditating on my dock by the river - my
absolute favorite place to be. But I layered up and found a spot on my screened
porch, out in the rain without getting wet.
As I focused on my breath, bringing it back whenever it wandered, I fell
deeper into stillness. As my mind tried to remain focused on one constant (my
breath), it drifted to another, more prominent constant: the rain. I listened
to the patterns, the sound of the drops coming down heavy, then slowing to a
light mist. I could almost envision the size of each raindrop: big, plump juicy
drops transitioning to long, skinny ones. This vision not being too different
than that of my lungs when expanded, full and plump with fresh air and then
empty and deflated with every exhale. For the first time, I was able stay alone with this vision.
I believe the positive effects of my meditation practice are
trickling into my conscious life as well. As I was baking gluten free, sugar
free muffins for breakfast this morning, Steve asked me if everything was okay.
Surprised, I said, “yes, why do you ask?” He said, “because you’re so quiet.
You were last night as well.” He took this as me being in a bad mood. I then
reflected on my behavior and why he may have thought this. I realized last
night, while watching a movie, I pulled out my needles and yarn. I learned how to knit last fall for Steve’s
Christmas present but haven’t touched it since. But last night I sat in my
chair, joyfully knitting, almost in a meditative state, entranced by the
needles dancing around one another. Okay, yes, I was still unable to just sit
and enjoy the movie without doing on anything else, something I have NEVER been
able to do as I see this as wasted time. But last night, instead of losing
myself in the bright colors, loud noises and distracting dialogue of what
played on the TV screen, I was able to lose myself in my knitting and almost
silence everything else around me. And as I concentrated on my muffins this
morning, carefully measuring out the ingredients, Steve turned on the
radio. It was only then that I realized I had been in complete silence - a true rarity for me. The realization of never realizing was a pleasant surprise!
Like I said earlier, an itsy bitsy breakthrough. However, how will I ever cross leaps & bounds if I never learn how to crawl, right?? RIGHT!!!
Kimmy, this is certainly not an itsy bitsy breakthrough - it's a huge one! It's such a wonderful place to be within one's self when we can meditate while doing what we may call mundane or banal things, such as knitting or washing dishes, for instance! Here's an excerpt from Thich Nhat Hanh's book (the first book on mindfulness that I ever bought about 20 years ago!) Peace is Every Step: "...the idea that doing dishes is unpleasant can occur only when you aren't doing them. Once you are standing in front of the sink with your sleeves rolled up and your hands in the warm water, it is really quite pleasant. I enjoy taking my time with each dish, being fully aware of the dish, the water, and each movement of my hands. I know that if I hurry in order to eat dessert sooner, the time of washing dishes will be unpleasant and not worth living. That would be a pity, for each minute, each second of life is a miracle. The dishes themselves and the fact that I am here washing them are miracles!"
ReplyDeleteKeep up your incredible life's work, Kimmy. You are a beautiful inspiration. Love you, Lynn XOXX