Amid the delights and distractions of summer, my daily meditation practice has taken a bit of a hiatus. In its place has been a daily dip in the pool, whenever the weather has afforded, and sometimes even when it hasn’t, because this summer has been a dud as far as sunny days go. As soon as the work day is done, I will wade into the pool, and float, making a few slow and gentle laps – back and forth – letting the mind drain of its worries from work, letting the tension leech out into the water and leaving it there when I finally emerge and dry off. Meditation comes in many forms and manners, and for summer this little ritual was enough to see me through, but I realize it’s not quite enough, and the worry and tension of life was slowly building and accumulating. And so the other day I went back to my traditional method of meditating, and already my mind feels a little clearer and less cluttered.
Lighting a stick of Palo Santo incense and picking up where I left off, I cradled the egg-like form of rose quartz in my palms and returned to the slow breathing – a long, slow intake of air through a slightly-constricted windpipe to aid in the drawn-out breath, and letting it out slowly and deliberately in the same way. It took a while to find the comfort again, but soon – sooner than my first awkward days of meditating – it all came back in calm and tranquil fashion.
Entering the final weeks of summer comes with its own worries and consternation, and this is the ideal time to get back into meditation. It’s seen me through difficult falls and winters, and as the tensions of the world build for all of us, this is the best way to tune out those things over which I have no control or say. These moments of meditation clear out the nagging thoughts that the mind will produce when taxed and burdened with anxiety. It creates a safe space, empty and pristine and expansive, pushing away bothersome worst-case scenarios that might otherwise start to take root. This calm centeredness short-circuits the instant tripping of annoyance or anger, giving me pause when the first instinct might be to snap back or attack. Inner-peace sounds so hokey, but it really does beget outer-peace.
I’m starting out with fifteen minutes a day, but that may quickly increase once I get back in the habit of things. It’s time.
