I've found the practice of meditation to be much like learning to hold a handstand.  At first you need all the support you can get, and maybe you spend a couple of blissed-out seconds floating in perfect balance, but it's not controlled and no sooner than you realize "I'm doing it! I'm in a handstand" you tilt and your feet are back on the ground and hopefully no furniture is broken.  Learning to control yourself, to ground yourself firmly to the floor, to hold perfect control over every muscle in your body while still trying not to think too hard about it--that comes with practice.  Meditation is just like that.  When you start, you're lucky to get those "I'm doing it! I'm meditating!" moments, only to realize that that very thought itself drew you out of it.

My meditation practice is about as perfected as my handstand (so...not), but it has become essential to me.  The very reason I'm choosing to write on this topic for my first post is that when I'm tasked with making a decision ("What should I write about first?") my instinct now is to meditate on it. And I should clarify that statement, because I think what many would translate that to mean is something like "Let me think about that," but meditation isn't thinking.  It is not cognitive, it's conscious. To meditate on something is to suspend your question in the space above you, to let go of it as it floats, to observe it almost from the third person--an entity outside yourself--and tap into Knowing. For novices like myself, suspending that question in air almost follows the same laws of gravity: I toss it up, it hovers a moment, then falls back into my hands.  But in those moments and mere seconds where I can permeate the delicate film between my cognition and my consciousness, it's like I have access to every sage piece of wisdom I've ever needed to know. I just constantly want to be up there pressing through that airy boundary, like I'm on a trampoline and at the apex of every rebound my head passes above the clouds and I can see and hear everything I need to know.  But only for a few seconds, catching glimpses and intuitions in pieces to later reassemble into meaning. 

So here I am, cross legged and still on the outside and all handstands and trampolines on the inside figuring out how to best serve this world and the people in it.  I am arriving, and I am grateful you're alongside to usher me in.

*Much appreciation to the lovely artisans at Samaya for gifting me this beautiful meditation cushion and to whom I haven't been able to publicly gush over until now.  Ethically hand made in the US, organic buckwheat and lavender filling, and an array of beautiful designs. Visit them at SAMAYA

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