I saw a counsellor yesterday, and they recommended hypnotherapy meditations. This morning, I tried a 12-minute meditation. I picked it because it was the shortest one on the website. My finches beeped and chirped the whole time. I figure they are part of nature, so listening to them is like meditating, so.
I used to do a lot of meditation, but sort of fell out of it with the neverending Covid story, topped by the neverending freezing winter snowfall darkness at 430pm story. Now I’m trying to get back to it. It will be good for me.
But like most things that are good for me, it’s difficult. Easy things are rarely awesome, and awesome things are rarely easy. In any case, over twelve minutes, I was able to still myself and be settle my body and mind.
The most amazing thing, I find, is that the stillness brings answers to my questions. Even this article was a result of stillness-inspiration. Earlier this week, I had set myself a task of writing more blog posts, but the well was running dry. When I was knee-deep in stillness, this idea popped into my mind.
Two years ago, when we were allowed to go and do stuff, I went to a yoga camp. Being a grownup at sleepaway camp is the best thing ever: it’s relatively cheap and your meals are provided, and you get to climb things and ride horses. I had had an idea for my story during one of the sessions, but I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to hang on to it, rather than letting it go along with the other thoughts and worries. I asked the leader about it afterwards: I know we’re usually told to clear our minds from all thoughts, but do I get to hang on to ideas for my stories? Do I have to get rid of those too?
She said, “You get rid of the thoughts so that you can hear the voice of the Creator. Inspiration is from the Creator, so embrace it and be grateful.”
Great– I got the yogi’s go-ahead to hang on. It seems that inspiration likes empty spaces in your mind. When you fill up every nook and cranny of your consciousness with a thought or a care, an idea needs to push all that other crap out of the way before it gets to you. When you leave a space open for it, it will come gliding in. (For more on this, check out Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic.)
For a long while, I was afraid to see what was in the empty spaces of my mind, and tried to fill them up. That’s fine for a time, but eventually, we need to get back to who we are and where we are. I am here. And I can handle whatever pops in for a visit. There is room.
Featured image was created by the author using elements from canva.com.