How did I find my little piece of heaven? On the back of my Dad's newly acquired Harley Davidson. I have never been on a motorcycle before, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little nervous. But before I could give my nerves more than a moment's thought, a big black helmet was strapped to my head, my feet were set on the footpegs, the rumbling motor was started, and we were off.
Without any hesitation the wind commenced blowing over my body, the sun commenced shining on my back, the grass commenced smelling fresh, and I commenced forgetting about those silly little nerves, which were quickly replaced with a gaping, open-mouth grin. I don't think even a thousand flies smacking my teeth would have made that grin disappear. Let me tell you, there is no cool-looking chick with dark eyes and a sleek leather jacket when you ride with me. Oh no. You get the girl with the gigantic grin under a huge helmet who flaps about clumsily in her seat and wants to wave at everyone to let them know she's riding on a Harley, just in case they couldn't tell.
What a feeling, this joy so powerful I could not have hidden it if I tried. Riding on that motorcycle felt like freedom-pure, unadulturated freedom. I rode through the symphony of the world, keeping its beat with the deep bass rythym of our engine and sometimes playing in superb harmony with the other bikes on the road. I think though, that the whole reason I enjoyed the ride so much (other than getting to spend time with my Dad) was that I let myself enjoy it. I actively allowed my body to take in the experience, working to clear my mind of all other thoughts unrelated to what was happening right now. I meditated on the back of that motorcycle, opening my mind to a new experience of mindful inner and outer awareness. I understood the possibilities in those moments of joy I found on the back of my Dad's Harley-if I could experience something so wonderful on the back of a motorcycle, who is to say that I can't have that with every breath I take every day of my life? After all, as much as it might seem contrary at the moment, everlasting joy does not reside in the motorcycle. My heaven didn't stay on the bike when the ride was over. It isn't waiting for me in the foot pegs, big helmet, and seat cushion. It hopped right off that bike with me, living within me as it lives in all of us. It is ours to awaken and ours to nurture. Yes, my little piece of heaven lives in this Texas suburb. It sleeps with me, laughs with me, cries with me, gives me little glimpses of its beauty every now and again just to remind me what I'm living for. And trust me, Heaven, I'll be back.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
...A Beginning
So, I have decided to take up meditation. It became clear to me about one and a half months ago after I experienced a deep personal revelation that meditation is exactly what I need. At the time I was in Germany with my family, nearing the end of a two month long, insight-rich backpacking journey through Europe when I realized I was desperate to come home and not forget everything I had learned. I was scared of falling back into the same fog of routine I had been in before the trip, scared of becoming the same old person. I wanted instead to find inner peace, find true compassion, find a way to understand and connect to the world. I was exhausted by a lifetime of self-inflicted stress and mindblowing anxiety. I felt like I had no control over myself, like I was spiraling into an oblivion, disconnected from the world, disconnected from humanity, disconnected from everything. My mind had spent years building up a powerful defense mechanism, a concrete wall of "don't let anything in that might cause you pain (even if you need it)." I chose to pursue meditation with the hope of opening my mind and my heart, and to clean out all the junk I've built up. I recognized that I only get one chance to live this life how I'm meant to live it, and decided that I refuse to retreat behind that comfortable, lying concrete wall. I refuse to let this opportunity pass me by.
During this time, I also discovered Buddhism, and though I do not call myself a Buddhist, I very deeply respect the teachings. I consider it a gift that for my whole life I've been curious about what is out there, and for me, the teachings of the Buddha make the most sense of it all. I never really felt comfortable in a Christian church, though I tried for almost two years, and I highly respect the teachings of Jesus (they are quite similar to Buddha's teachings). Furthermore, I never liked the idea that the world is only scientific methods and mathematical formulas and very recently discovered a book written by the current Dalai Lama which agrees. In it, he explains a connection between science and Buddhism without degrading other religions or points of view. I intend to expand on that subject another time, but suffice it to say that, so far, the teachings and encouragement I find in Buddhism feel right to me.
Anyway, the first couple times I tried meditation, it was a complete mess. I was uncomfortable, felt a little silly (even though I was with my boyfriend, who is also studying meditation and is the least judgemental person I know), and could only think, why isn't anything happening? I felt anxious and nervous, and eventually mad that I couldn't accomplish anything. My back hurt, my legs were falling asleep, my head hurt, and I felt tired. I could have given up...some part of me wanted to give up. But I refused. I was not going to let this turn into another fad I try out excitedly for a few weeks and then let evaporate out of my life. After checking various sources (and good old youtube) looking for some advice to help me do it right, I found an explanation of one type of meditation called a "breathing meditation." During the meditation you're supposed to sit with your back straight, hold your right hand in your left hand with your thumbs touching, keep your eyes partially open, and focus on your natural breathing, letting all other thoughts leave your mind. Ok, now we are getting somewhere. I tried it, and the first few times again nothing happened. But then, one day, I was sitting in the meditation trying to focus on breathing without trying to breathe, and I realized how noisy my mind is. I felt like I was swimming through a jello pool of thoughts. Some of the thoughts were anxious concerns, some were impatient urgings from my mind ("Come on, just give up already."), and some were just random. I heard my mind singing lines from songs I never even realized I remembered, and boy was I excited! This was progress! Step one, realize how much noise is in your mind. I could not clear all of the thoughts out of my mind, though I splashed a few away-mostly the random songs, but no matter. I, me, the existence behind my ego, saw my mind for the noisy conundrum that it is. I was swimming through the thoughts, watching them pass me by.
I continued to practice the breathing meditation every day before bed while in Germany and by the end of the trip, I was able to clear my mind out completely for about twenty consecutive seconds (I'm guessing on that, I've never timed it). Upon my return home to the United States, I am glad to say the fire within me did not die out. The first thing I did when I got home, after eating a huge dinner and picking up my goofball dog from the kennel, was practice the breathing meditation. I felt and continue to feel excitement at the opportunity to learn as much as possible. And so I have found my beginning.
During this time, I also discovered Buddhism, and though I do not call myself a Buddhist, I very deeply respect the teachings. I consider it a gift that for my whole life I've been curious about what is out there, and for me, the teachings of the Buddha make the most sense of it all. I never really felt comfortable in a Christian church, though I tried for almost two years, and I highly respect the teachings of Jesus (they are quite similar to Buddha's teachings). Furthermore, I never liked the idea that the world is only scientific methods and mathematical formulas and very recently discovered a book written by the current Dalai Lama which agrees. In it, he explains a connection between science and Buddhism without degrading other religions or points of view. I intend to expand on that subject another time, but suffice it to say that, so far, the teachings and encouragement I find in Buddhism feel right to me.
Anyway, the first couple times I tried meditation, it was a complete mess. I was uncomfortable, felt a little silly (even though I was with my boyfriend, who is also studying meditation and is the least judgemental person I know), and could only think, why isn't anything happening? I felt anxious and nervous, and eventually mad that I couldn't accomplish anything. My back hurt, my legs were falling asleep, my head hurt, and I felt tired. I could have given up...some part of me wanted to give up. But I refused. I was not going to let this turn into another fad I try out excitedly for a few weeks and then let evaporate out of my life. After checking various sources (and good old youtube) looking for some advice to help me do it right, I found an explanation of one type of meditation called a "breathing meditation." During the meditation you're supposed to sit with your back straight, hold your right hand in your left hand with your thumbs touching, keep your eyes partially open, and focus on your natural breathing, letting all other thoughts leave your mind. Ok, now we are getting somewhere. I tried it, and the first few times again nothing happened. But then, one day, I was sitting in the meditation trying to focus on breathing without trying to breathe, and I realized how noisy my mind is. I felt like I was swimming through a jello pool of thoughts. Some of the thoughts were anxious concerns, some were impatient urgings from my mind ("Come on, just give up already."), and some were just random. I heard my mind singing lines from songs I never even realized I remembered, and boy was I excited! This was progress! Step one, realize how much noise is in your mind. I could not clear all of the thoughts out of my mind, though I splashed a few away-mostly the random songs, but no matter. I, me, the existence behind my ego, saw my mind for the noisy conundrum that it is. I was swimming through the thoughts, watching them pass me by.
I continued to practice the breathing meditation every day before bed while in Germany and by the end of the trip, I was able to clear my mind out completely for about twenty consecutive seconds (I'm guessing on that, I've never timed it). Upon my return home to the United States, I am glad to say the fire within me did not die out. The first thing I did when I got home, after eating a huge dinner and picking up my goofball dog from the kennel, was practice the breathing meditation. I felt and continue to feel excitement at the opportunity to learn as much as possible. And so I have found my beginning.
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