I think too much. More often than not, I dwell on the negative side of my chattering prefrontal lobe, conjuring up dire endings to scenarios that have yet to be written.
Sometimes the buzzing gets incessant and I find myself fixated on doom and gloom looming just around the corner, compulsively blowing up pint sized annoyances into massive, tsunami sized waves of angst.
That’s when the benefits of my meditation practice come into play. I empty the mind of the compulsive need to have answers. I stop “thinking” and let intuition and spiritual insights well up effortlessly on their own. I begin to see with my eyes closed.
Whatever technique you use, and there are endless variations of methods to achieve stillness and serenity, the goal is an expanded consciousness. For me, I surf a mantra that I ride into the tube of the wave, silencing the irrational prattle. My mind empties and soon has the room to fill up with spectacular travels that cannot be booked on Expedia!
A summer ago at a rural retreat led by a wonderful energy worker I floated into a lovely state of nothingness between dream and certainty and began a walking meditation on the paths that surrounded the idyllic hideaway. Walking (perhaps levitating) in the summer air I encountered a field of swaying wheat. “Come dance,” was the voiceless invitation and dance I did, gracefully swinging back and forth in a sensuous waltz with the undulating wisps of grain, slender and delicate and embracing. That nothing was really something!
On one trip I found a doorway into my heart, an astounding place, my own Sagrada Familia. Stained glass windows filled the space with pastel shades of light; celestial music filtered the ambiance; scents bathed the air. I knew this was where Love resided. I knew that at the core of who I was – the heart of whom we are – there is love. I cherish this discovery. It has become the basis of my belief system.
I’ve teleported to galaxies where Starship Enterprise hasn’t reached. And sometimes, swallowed by the emptiness, I’ve vanished into nonexistence; everywhere and nowhere at the same time. I have seen the world in a grain of sand.
The bountiful reward takes place when I open my eyes and get up from the meditation cushion to return to “real life.” I bring the tranquil or empty mind with me. Nothingness is not exclusive to the sound of harmoniums and crystal bowls! Amazing adventures take place when the answer to “What do you want to do today?” is nothing!
Sometimes when I empty the mind, and become connected to the infinite vastness of the universe I get up laughing at the absurdity of the notion that the tiny, worldly problem that bothered me actually mattered. Sometimes, with nothing lingering on the mind to hem and haw over, I finally face what I was loath to face, and have the courage to recognize what really was the gist of the problem.
And sometimes, the empty mind makes life so simple. All I have to do is just kick back and let the flow of life… flow. It’s easy – nothing to it.