Meditations on Meditating

Everything about your mind settling itself is often uncomfortable, which is why people prefer to drift to sleep.

Out in the open, animals gather to stillness and patience. There’s nothing quite like keeping eyes closed in good weather, and hearing the closing movement of animals around you.

There are shades of greens and yellows I can’t quite see, or are perhaps their own optical illusion with eyes lightly closed and resting my mind. And for some reason I associate that with The Magician’s Nephew. Isn’t it fascinating how we make strange connections, and everyone feels silly about a lot of experiences others relate to?

There’s nothing like attempting to broaden the connection of your own nerves. It’s surprising what you cant feel, and then the minute focus of aches and itches where your body performs nightly maintenance. Sometimes you get a feel for yourself more than any other time, when you’re working there’s barely any awareness that isn’t thoughts or something done day in and day out, yet your own body following you everywhere gives a sense of wonder.

Get past your own aching, and reminding yourself of the little embarrassment and follies of the day, and there’s layers of recovery waiting. It’s an odd mix of Seneca and Marcus Aurellius; I do find myself naturally reflecting on the day, but it’s usually every misstep I attempted to forget.

Bringing yourself out of a meditative state gives the feeling of sitting on a train, the feeling of your ears when it rushes out of a black tunnel.

These are just some loosely collated thoughts while meditating, and about the meditative process. It’s a good word, but a very broad word for something wide in scope and inherently personal given our unique minds. Just waiting for your mind to shock and reassert itself, or to heal from injuries is a bit of a bristling experience, but an objective improvement if the effort is put in to stick with it.