I’m trying to start a new habit. I’ve already rebooted my morning practice of getting up early (before 7:30), a short asana (yoga) practice, followed by a short meditation, followed by journaling. Now that our new St. Pete Pier is finished, I want to start the habit of taking that practice to the Pier.
It’s not a full-on habit yet, but I’ve done it a few times now. Each time it is a really nice experience. Feeling the breeze on my skin as I practice sun salutations (Surya Namaskar) as the sun rises. I do my journaling on Spa Beach, as the sun continues its ascent.
Today while I was in my meditation practice, the thought popped into my head: “How will you respond if someone asks what you are doing?” There are all kinds of folks walking around at that time of morning, surprisingly. And me, sitting on a rolled up yoga mat, eyes mostly closed and breathing, might spark some curiosity. I mean, to my eyes it’s pretty obvious what I’m doing. But people have weird ways of breaking the ice.
A response popped up: “I’ll say I’m praying.” I guess I figured someone my understand prayer a little easier. And honestly, that response wouldn’t be far off.
But right after that, the thought popped up about the difference between prayer and meditation. I think it was Elizabeth Gilbert who put it this way in Eat, Pray, Love:
Prayer is talking to god. (Big ‘G’ if you prefer.*)
Paraphrase of Elizabeth Gilbert’s idea.
Meditation is listening.
As soon as the idea that meditation was listening to god, I heard a message.
“Everything’s going to be alright.”
It was only my own voice that narrates my inner dialogue. And it was clear.
The ‘me’ I’m more familiar with responded, “I don’t believe you” as the tears welled in my eyes.
That inner voice responded, “I know.” The tears fell harder.
The chorus from The Killers’ “Everything Will Be Alright” then entered my head.
I ended my meditation with tears running down my face. Partially from gratitude from hearing a message I needed to hear, even if I don’t completely believe it. Partially from relief, because some part of me does believe it.
My meditations aren’t always so emotionally moving. But sometimes, when the thoughts are silent for a bit, the truth is there waiting. Or they arrive as thoughts in the midst of meditation.
I’m grateful to come back to this morning practice. I’m grateful I’ve created space to process my … stuff … And I’m grateful that sometimes I hear what I need in the silence.
*I personally ascribe to the idea of pantheism, which gets at the idea that “god” is the universe. God is everything. So I don’t like to use a ‘G’ with god (unless it’s at the beginning of a sentenced), because I feel like that gives the idea that god is just one thing. One “person” or entity. Instead, I like the idea that god permeates everything. Just wanted to clarify to potentially avoid confusion and offense.*