The Calm Within
I sat down to meditate, a practice I usually started at 7:30 in the morning.
The wheels in my mind were going faster than I could imagine. Something had upset me in the early hours of the morning. I glanced at the clock. It was 7:35a.m. My tea was unfinished, and the yogurt in my bowl was half eaten. But it was that important to me to meditate this day and most days. I began with a slow breath in. The sun was rising, and light was appearing at the window.
Another breath, and another, and then a big sigh volunteered itself.
It was time to let go of all of those thoughts I had had since the early hours of the morning.
I reached down deep into the belly to find room for the air and then let it fill, expand, and release the breath upward and out. I reached down again and filled my belly again, this time letting go of the tension I had been carrying there. Belly breathing usually helps me the most to calm me. I settled into this rhythm of breathing. I felt myself relax a little. I swallowed hard as a thought cropped up. I was worrying again. My mind sped up, trying to solve the problem. I grew tense again. I let it go and returned to my meditating. A few minutes later there it was again. I paid attention this time to the whereabouts of my worries, making a note that I was worrying, then let it go.
I returned my focus to my breath, deepening my belly breathing. I made a note of the pattern of my breath, how it felt in my nose, in my throat, in my belly, and then the breath rising and leaving my mouth. I noticed the full circle. A pang of anxiety came up. Something left over from the early morning. It tugged my focus away. I noticed what was happening and returned my focus to my breath. Without giving it attention, the anxiety left my body.
The wind in my belly was soft and warm. I tried to detect it. It eluded me. It filled the outer ranges of my lungs. The feeling returned. Once again I filled my nostrils with air. The air became warm and moist on the way down. On the way out, I caught the soft, warm feeling.
Thoughts of the day began to organize themselves in my mind. I found myself wanting to take a peek at the clock. I noted my hurry. I wondered if I had time to finish my yogurt before the first client came. I took a peek. There was plenty of time yet. I returned my focus to my breath. My anticipatory anxiety returned. More thoughts of the day circulated. I took note of my anxiety and returned to my breath. I noted more anxiety pop up. Wow! This was an anxiety day. I returned my focus to my breath, and it eased.
I opened up my belly breathing further. I needed more air to calm this dragon. I followed the air into my lungs, noting its movements into my lower lobes, into my belly. I found it comforting as the air pushed my lungs up against my chair. My belly expanded. I followed the course of this breath out of my body and began again. The anxiety was waning. Another four breaths like this followed. Anxiety receded further.
I found myself getting sleepy. I had lost some sleep in the night, but this was more like what was there when the anxiety had receded into the recesses of my mind. I pulled my attention back to my breath. I did not need to fall asleep to get rid of the last wisps of anxiety. I followed my breath in and out, in and out, in and out, a number of times. The anxiety evaporated. A big deep breath escaped my lips, and I knew it was time to return to my day.
I finished my tea and yogurt, took pen in hand, and waited for the words. Slowly they bubbled up: “We are virtually without fear, without anguish or rancor, when peace and calm are restored.” My client arrived. I set the pen down. The calm within prepared me for the day. The anxieties of the night were just unimportant. I was ready to listen. The calm persisted, client after client, hour after hour. I was still at peace when I came home from the end of a long day.
On another day, I slipped into my chair at 7:30 in the morning and began my meditation practice. It had been a good night and a good morning. The sun was already streaming through my window when I arrived. There were fewer interruptions this morning. One breath followed another more closely in my attention stream. My belly opened wide to the air. The energy in my breath reached the bottom of my belly, then twirled around and headed out of my body. I sat in quiet amazement. Another breath, and the same thing happened. From the calm within, I watched the energy in the breath move into exquisite formations. I listened to the breath sailing in and out of my body. I was in a state of awe because I did not know these things could happen. The meditation ended, I picked up my pen, and these words spilled forth: “Sumptuous the feast that waits within the garden of hallowed moments when we are so still.” I felt exquisitely nourished.
“Feelings of gratitude, love, tenderness accompanied the breaths. The energy in my breaths began to dance. The exquisite energy formations I had experienced previously became more complex and joyful.”
Yet another day, I slipped into my chair at 7:30 in the morning and began meditating. I had been playing around with heart based meditation. My heart was ready to open this morning. I began with belly breathing, establishing a base of deep calm to begin heart meditation. Then I drew a breath in through my heart and let it go back out through my heart. At first my heart felt sort of inelastic. But with more breaths, my heart began to soften, moving with the breath. As it felt softer, my heart felt warmer. Feelings of gratitude, love, tenderness accompanied the breaths. The energy in my breaths began to dance. The exquisite energy formations I had experienced previously became more complex and joyful. These dancing energy formations made my heart more supple. When the meditation ended and I took pen in hand, these words emerged: “Self-respect, gratitude, and kindness breathe in constant rhythmic flow through the open petals of the heart.” I felt entirely still.
