Zen Mornings 12/1/11
Yesterday I learned that music can be a useful tool for sinking into a meditative state. Last night, I was lying in bed with my feet up the wall, music infiltrating my ears from my laptop which sat beside my head just a few feet away. Not optimal but it gets the job done. I played some tranc-esque tribal-esque instrumental, and really, really settled into it. I relaxed so greatly, there seemed no difference between myself and the music. Inhales elongated into the deepest breaths. I never thought it was possible to breath in so much air! My lungs and stomach filled endlessly, and effortlessly released back out.
During this time I was very, very cold. It’s usually in the low 60’s in our house, and I am already chilly by nature. Instead of covering myself with a blanket, which in all probability would have made me fall fast asleep, I ceased all thoughts about how cold I was, letting the meditation continue unfettered by my freezing limbs. Without attaching negative or positive to this feeling, without thinking of it at all, the cold feeling turned into something euphoric. Feelings in my extremities disappeared, but my center I felt so lively; on fire. All I could feel was consciousness and that fire within me– the rest vanished into the emptiness. Who says cold has got to be miserable? I’ve only made it that way for myself, associating being cold with childhood and most of my life adult life. But cold is not anything bad by nature– it simply is.
Yesterday I learned that strange things can happen when extreme temperature shifts occur within our bodies. After this meditative practice with the cold, I warmed myself up with a shower. Strange thing was, while usually this long, steamy shower warms me up sufficiently for hours to follow, this time by the end of it I was feeling suddenly ill. I nearly threw up, and a pit grew within me. Perhaps too abrupt of a switch?
Yesterday I learned that sometimes we know when we are going to become a part of something or someplace. When I enter a place of knowing like this, there is a two-fold occurrence. I feel myself become a part of something unusually quickly, a knowing of “homeness” and connection is realized, but at the same time I make it so. I put forth the effort to be in that place. I can’t know any of the changes that will come to pass. The future does not exist but only as a plan in our minds. There is nothing to know but this very moment, and the past, present and future all happen within it.
Yesterday I learned how to crochet. I enjoy how meditative it is, due to the counting, and keeping my hands busy in such a way brings me calming joy. We’ll see if I can make some beanies in the future for these nippley winter nights. 😉