Every morning I sit and meditate with my partner Jonathan. Since we moved last week, my mind has been skipping all over the universe in the morning, convinced that there are things that need to be done before I sit in silence. There are pictures that need to be hung, windows that need to be washed, boxes that need recycling. There seems to be no end to what needs to be attended to. I’m not saying that these things don’t matter. The details of everyday life are important. But they are not more important than sitting, first thing in the morning. They are not the most essential thing, they are not what matters most. What really matters is how awake I am, how present I am, how available I am for each new moment. What is essential is how open my heart is, how deeply I am listening to life, how fully I inhabit my body.
Over the years, a lot of people have spoken to me about their impulse, their longing, to meditate. By now the number of people who have expressed this desire to sit is in the thousands. Quite often I hear how much the person wants to meditate; but how difficult it is, and how little time they have for sitting quietly, doing nothing. This is the song that the mind sings, instead of just sitting.The truth is, we choose what we give our energy and attention to, every single day of our lives. So what if it’s difficult? Sitting down and being with ourselves, opening to our experience as it is without defences or distractions, can be a very edgy experience. Nobody said it was supposed to be easy.
If we keep moving with the distractions, the excuses, the itch to get busy, we will never sit down and open ourselves to what is here. If we are afraid of being uncomfortable, we’ll keep immersing ourselves in what we already know: our activity, our stress, our anxiety, our overwhelm. A whole life can pass like this. It often does.
The mind is very practiced in making everything else more important than being open and available and open-hearted. The radiance of our own being is eclipsed when we are caught in the trance of everyday life. It’s a powerful spell. It takes a lot of clarity and perseverance to wake up from it. Each time we sit down in silence, we make a contribution to the liberating and healing power of presence, not just to our own, but to the light of our collective presence.
You are planted in her own integrity,
and there you stand,
gnarled and knotted,
perfectly at ease with yourself,
your roots deep in truth,
your branches held up to let the light in.
-Stephen Mitchell, Second book of Tao 19
with love,
Shayla
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Beautiful message and loved the poem at the end…what a message that was too!
Today I sit still because I am injured and cannot move. I accept the gift of stopping this injury brings me. It’s not ever easy. And it is good.