Meditation is not just for Gurus on Mountains

For the past two days, I’ve been trying to write about meditation. Now I realize that it’s stupid. You can’t tell people about meditation, you have to experience it.

When most people think about meditation, they picture some guru on a mountain top in the lotus position oming and chanting. Truth is, everyone meditates. We just do it differently.

 For the past 8 months, I’ve been on a journey, so to speak. I have taken a year off to travel and to rest. After all the shifts I experienced last year I really needed a break. So I went to Greece for 20 days, I went to the beach, I volunteered at the NC Museum of History, I helped a friend recover from surgery, and spent a great deal of time trying to stay as far away from home as possible. I wasn’t really thinking about why. I had actually been thinking of moving before but now I was ready to get as far away from here as I could. Spending time in my house made me sad.  I wasn’t afraid of being alone; I just didn’t want to be alone here.

 Before the passing of my mom, I loved being in my house. I loved working in the yard, cleaning (yes, I do like to clean!) decorating, planting the garden, sunbathing in the back yard, cooking in the kitchen. But then, when I decided to move, I just stopped doing those things.

Well, today I was debating on whether to go up to Pilot Mountain and sit on a rock and read/meditate or work in the back yard. I decided to give the back yard a shot since I have neglected it for so long and it used to bring me such joy. I pulled a tarp and picked up some sticks. Then I took a break and went to Home Depot and bought a new leaf blower. I stood out there in the yard with the white noise of the blower and just contemplated the dancing of the leaves in the wind. I blew a nice big pile up, pulled the tarp over and raked on them on the tarp. And then I thought to myself “this isn’t so bad; why have I not done this in awhile?” Then it occurred to me that I have been grieving. I really didn’t think that all I was doing—the traveling, the laziness—any of it was that. But now I realize that I have been grieving. Grieving for the loss of my mom, for relationships past, for friends who are moving, for people I have loved and lost, for children I could not help, for children I could help, and perhaps leaving this house that I love so very much now.

 Meditation comes to everyone in some way. Some meditate when they clean, some write, some listen to music, exercise, do yoga, draw, paint—anyway that brings a sense of satisfaction. A friend of mine in college once told me a story about her dad. When things got rough, he would get his gun and go out into the woods. He said he was going hunting, but he rarely came back with anything. She said he thought that maybe he just went out there to pray and think. Perhaps he was listening for God to answer.

I believe that mediation brings you closer to yourself. It allows you to go within. But the joy of meditation is not that I have to sit still and a mountain top and chant. I can do it while I throw the ball to Marley. I can rake leaves. All I have to do is let go.