In times of chaos, my natural instinct is to retreat into what I like to think of as the stillness of my mind. Unfortunately, there is nothing still about my mind. Reckless, chaotic, spontaneous, devoid of stillness might be better words to describe it. Definitely not still.
But there I go, to the familiar voices questioning, thinking, analyzing, judging, criticizing. And there is comfort in that familiarity. All the books I read about centering, listening to your intuition, calming your mind, and so forth refer to quieting the voices in your mind. I think that sometimes the voices whisper instead of shout, but they are never quiet.
When you are meditating, imagine the thoughts that come into your head as being wrapped in a bubble and floating away. I read that. I tried it. My thoughts, however, fight back. They try to pop the bubble with pins. They want to be heard. They are very self-important.
So my retreat is anything but restful. My escape is not a sanctuary of stillness and calm but rather a loud rock concert. I put nature sounds and meditation music on my iPod, but the voices creep around the restful sounds. They vie for attention, each speaking over the other like toddlers, “LOOK AT ME; LISTEN TO ME.”
Yet, I continue to add Feng Shui elements to my home. Make myself physical sanctuaries. Practice the simplest of meditation techniques. Breathe. Count. Be. And sometimes, for a moment or two, I think my mind is quiet. And then I realize that I’m thinking about it being quiet. And I realize my mind sounds like a bunch of little kids who have been reprimanded at a slumber party. The voices are shhhhh’ing each other.
I guess that’s progress.
maryswanbelldotcom.wordpress.com 