His Meditations: Silence

Sunday, June 15, 2014
12:15pm
Duration: 10 minutes
Position: Seated on pillow, floor, Priya on ottoman.

I meditate with my girlfriend for the first time.  I normally do this alone, but she needs this right now.  Her annoyance is getting the best of her and she just needs to check back in with herself.   We set up shop, her on the ottoman and me on the floor sitting on a big pillow cross legged with another pillow underneath my ankles to comfort them from the hard tile floor.   The last time I meditated without this small pillow, all I could concentrate on after awhile was the uncomfortable pressure of my ankle bone digging into the floor.   Not exactly what I had in mind when I started meditating, but hey, I was completely present.

This was exactly what I needed as well.  A little introspection is never a bad thing.   As I meditated it took me a second to get situated.   I noticed the sound of washing machine and the birds outside since the window was open.  I wished Priya a good session and prayed that she would find peace.  She needed it.  She was harboring so much anger and pain.  It was tainting our interactions together; and I wasn’t handling it that well either.   I needed the meditation as much as she did.  I wanted to see what tape was running in the background of my mind.

I sat there and continued to wish her peace.  It felt a little ridiculous doing this as my idea of meditation was to get in touch with myself, but ironically this was still about me.  Her happiness was my happiness and if she’s not happy I’m not happy.

I sit and the washing machine starts to get louder.   The washing machine is actually very quiet but during this time I want complete silence.  The washing machine spins the clothes for a little bit and then stops briefly; “ahhhh, silence.”  Silence fells so good to the soul.  The sound of the wind blowing through the trees is so much better than a “whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.”   The washing machine starts to spins again.  “God that washing machine is annoying.   Why can’t I just have silence?  Perhaps my yearning for silence was an indication of the noise that was going on inside that I was refusing to clean up.

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