These cushions are making me creaky...

But I'll kneel down
Wait for now
I'll kneel down
Know my ground

 

 

Now there's a little something rousing to kick this one off!  I just love this song.  I think it's about forgiveness but I guess it's all down to how you interpret it.  Me, I go with how a song makes me feel or the broad message it implies as opposed to sticking it to the lyrics.  With this song, I imagine I'm standing in a packed, smoky pub in England, nursing my pint because it's 10 feet deep at the bar and I know I'll lose my plum place watching this awesome band if I even attempt to get another drink.  

 

I like the lyrics up there too, even if I'm not entirely sure what they mean.  They feel patient, steadfast and sure.  Traits that are hard to come by these days, or at least maintain.  We're all busy...chop, chop, busy, busy, work, work, bang, bang...so we need something like this:

 

"...remind me that I must try to be alone for part of each year, even a week or a few days; and for part of each day, even for an hour or a few minutes in order to keep my core, my center, my island-quality. You will remind me that unless I keep the island-mentality intact somewhere within me, I will have little to give my husband, my children, my friends or the world at large." -...Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Gift from the Sea

 

I'd just like to mention that the woman popped out six kids, one of whom was kidnapped and later found dead.  She and her husband exiled themselves to Europe where they fell in with the Nazi's, sort of, but enough for others to sit up and take notice.  They were declared fascists.  She had an affair then he had an affair which bore fruity children.  So...I take my hat off to this woman who somehow managed to keep her little tranquil, island-mentality intact while surrounded by so much flux over so many years.

 

Did she meditate?  I bet she did.

 

And I'll tell you this, after meditating steadfastly for a couple of months, I noticed the difference in me when I didn't.  The pool of light turned murky, I lost some of the glimmer of positivity, and worse, I began to feel disconnected.  The connection between the heart, the mind and the body was breaking down and I could feel myself slipping into old habits.  Not the grumpy, everybody's out to get me habit because I think those days are truly long gone.  More of a shadowy beast with long, black tendrils for arms and raggedy claws getting ready with a snarly grin, to leap in and deliver worry, fear, past hurt, pain and regret and all those negative thoughts that if you think on too long, really do get bigger. 

 

Backalong, I discovered this wonderful used book store and had picked up a book by Deepak Chopra and also this.  I am not a Buddhist by any means, I just wanted to find something practical that would help me find a better way to sit, to help me decide whether I should use a mantra, or to have soft music or nothing at all.  See, after I completed the 21 Day Meditation Challenge, I guess I felt lost and a bit floundery.  I wished that the challenge had been longer.  Luckily, it was available for free for 30 days afterwards but once it was gone, I would have to pay for it.  Of course.  That ticks me off a little bit too...the people with the power to help but charge for their services.  I know, I know...business, gotta make money, I know that but still, something about it chafes at my sense of humbleness.  (is that a word?)

 

I read the book, the Practical Guide to Buddhist Meditation and I fell into step with it.  It practically sang to me in its layman terms.  I am 43 and not as fit as I should be, so sitting with one leg on top of the other...

 

 

... has been a never-gonna-happen sort of thing.  In fact, for the Deepak Chopra challenge, I had been sitting quite nicely and comfortably and straight-backed (or so I thought) in the old rocking chair (with the lever forward so it didn't actually rock) that Steve bought me when I was pregnant with our first.  Turns out though, that I shouldn't have been using the back as support.  I should've been leaning forward slightly so that my channels, all the lovely glowy chakra channels could be aligned and open.

 

I read the first chapter and decided to go to the ground which I had tried before, but my back ached so much that it interfered with meditation.  I grabbed two or three cushions because apparently pillows are too smooshy for this purpose, and set about finding the right height for kneeling.  Honestly, it felt like I was straddling a horse, and after the second or third time my six old daughter had to help me up because my legs were permanently zig-zagged, I opted instead, to try the Burmese:

 

 

 

One foot in front of the other.  Much more doable with a bunch of cushions under the back of your butt (as opposed to under the whole fleshy thing)  and definitely easier on the old joints.  Pretty much that's how I look, right there.  I don't do my hands on each leg with the fingers in a circle because they just don't stay like that, so I keep my left palm under my right in my lap.  My back still aches a little but it's all about adjustment and finding what's right for you.

 

So, whether you sit legs akimbo, legs crossed, on top of each other, whether you sit in a chair or on a fancy meditation bench made in Taiwan or China or wherever, just remember that mostly it'll feel like this...

 

...but when done with sincerity and authenticity, it only takes that one shiny moment of clarity where you feel nothing but light in your heart that provokes tears...hot, fat tears of gratitude or a smile, a smile as big and bright as the sun...to know it's all so totally worth it.

Lisa ...