Meditation

Fortunately, a short drive away from my house is a place where I may go, twice a week if I like, to be with other like minded people and meditate. Today, I meditated. My writing lately has been about being aware of the writing process, tapping into the mechanism of that, and I found that during the meditation I noticed everything about the process. This is my attempt to put it down in words.

I was the last person to enter the room and I immediately found a meditation cushion. It's round and higher than a regular cushion which means that I can kneel down with my knees in front and my legs to either side of the cushion for the entire hour. I quickly scanned the room looking to get a sense of the energy of the room and took in that they were all strangers, but kind looking people. I felt perfectly at home.

I moved my body slightly so that I was in direct line with the thick white candle glowing on the floor in the middle of the room. It sits in a wide, shallow glass container. The reason why I like to be in direct line is that even though my eyes are closed, I can sense the glow, and perhaps I might open my eyes ever so slightly during the meditation to look at the candle. My eyes were closed and my hands on my thighs even before we were invited to do so. I needed this quiet time with myself today.

For some time I simply luxuriated in being there, so still and quiet. I wasn't troubled, although my mind did go to a troubling thought several times. I breathed through the thought. I located quite easily the black "screen" in front of my closed eyes; the void.

I spoke to myself. "You are safe here."

I became aware of the hands resting on my thighs and registered them as belonging to me. I remembered the moment in yoga class late last night when we were given the instruction (lying on our backs) to bring our arms up over our heads several times. Each time fingers from one hand found the fingers of the other. I remembered how comforting that felt.

I felt an urgent desire for one of my hands to touch the other. I brought my hands together and placed my right thumb over my left thumb and let it sit there.

"I am here with you. There's no need to worry. I'm your friend and I'll be there for you."

One thumb comforted the other thumb. One thumb reminded the other that cindi was her own best friend; that she could rely on herself; always.

I was completely comfortable in this quiet place of rest and peace when warm air was blasted into the room (it's winter here now) and from where I sat I could feel the heat on my cheeks. Some random hairs on my head caressed my face. The sensation was that of the lightest touch of a person's fingers and I sat and radiated in that pleasure.

Perhaps it was this pleasure (I am not sure since the chronology of events is so difficult to reconstruct) that had my mind focused on my bimbo nature. I squeezed the muscles between my legs tight and was aware of my holes tightening. It was a fleeting thought that my holes are such an important part of me; that I crave for them to be filled and used. The thought surfaced that this truth is undeniable; that I like to sit on the cushion for reasons other than peace and calm; that the cushion arouses the holes; arouses the bimbo.

There came a time 30-40 minutes into the meditation wherein my mind determined to use the experience to heal. I've done this before, two years ago now almost to the day, with enormous benefit and I hoped for some visualization that might aid me.

I waited in the stillness and the void for something, anything, to occur. I breathed slowly in and out and focused on my breath. I was aware of flapping. I was a bird with big wings, so big that I couldn't get off the ground. Flapping, flapping away, I was going nowhere. The presence of someone was keeping me on the ground and I got the sense that I didn't want to leave because of him. I was frightened to fly on my own. It was as if I was glued to the earth and all the flapping in the world was doing nothing.

I waited. I didn't force it. I just remained hopeful that something good would happen. I began to lift off, and I was a little above the ground now but still in the one spot. I looked back at the man on the ground and he was still as well, simply watching the bird. I moved a little higher and now the man was more distant from me. I looked down on him. I looked toward the vast sky ahead of me. I looked back. Reluctant. Unsure. Perhaps I could turn around...go down.

He raised his hand. He was waving. I took a tentative look back at the vast horizon. I was gathering my courage. I was beginning to think I might be able to take this journey all on my own. I looked back at him and now he had both hands raised high, waving to me vigorously, encouraging me on; ensuring me that it was all right to go on.

Fly, bird. Fly. Fly. Away. You. will. be. all. right.

My wings were flapping fast. My mind was focused on the job at hand. I began to fly and as I gained momentum it started to feel freeing. It felt right and good to be soaring above the earth, to be flapping my wings and flying; to feel the wind at my back. As I flew further up and further away the clouds enveloped me and hid the speck of the man from me. He was entirely gone. I was alone. I was flying into the abyss. Onward. Upward. It was a new life. There was no going back. I flew on, aware that I could not retreat now from this journey. I was like a plane on a path towards a destination. Planes rarely turn back and I, too, would fly onwards. This was my destiny. There was no choice and I accepted my fate.

But, the price of this sort of visualization is that my closed eyes will form tears from the emotions experienced, whether they are good or bad, and now I waited for them to inevitably fall. I felt the tears race down my cheeks and I didn't check them for several minutes, until the chimes were rung (reminding people to bring their thoughts back into focus if they have strayed) and at this moment I raised my hand and wiped the left check with my left hand and the right cheek with my right hand.

In essence, the meditation was over for me, although there were at least ten minutes to go until it would be brought to a close. I opened my eyes a tiny crack to reveal shards of light formed from looking at the candle; Star Wars light sabre lines of light. I focused on them until my mind stilled again. I was now aware of my body; of some discomfort in my legs, of the weight of the places I'd been; of the upheaval of thought and the calming down of thought. I felt a little tired, a little hungry. I'm not sure what I thought after that except a willingness to stay deep down to the very end; not to give up.

Now, I heard the final chimes alerting us to the end of the meditation and as we stretched and returned our energies to our moving bodies I felt happy to be returned to good people in the room with me; to a sense of comradeship and good intention. Unusually, we even shared some laughter this day. No-one really wanted to leave, least of all me. But, I did leave and I did return to my life; rested, calmed; certain that I had the ability to face the challenges ahead of me.

(P.S. It was while I went searching for the photograph of a bird after writing this that it came to my consciousness that for the past week I have been unable to get a song out of my mind.

Blackbird singing in the dead of the night,
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

How extraordinary the mind is!)