Last night I had one of the most incredible experiences of my entire life. I attended my first ever meditation group. Before I go any further, let me back up here and give you a little background before I delve into this story.
A few years ago, right as I was getting ready to graduate high school, I took up yoga. I started with Hatha, gradually moving to Vinyasa, and then about two months ago started doing Bikram (hot yoga) and took my first Ashtanga power class last weekend. Needless to say, I like it (actually, I love it). But I’ve become progressively more invested in it, more as a means of disciplining myself and working towards a meditative practice than to get in shape. The spiritual, 
metaphysical, and unexplainable parts of the mind and life in general have always been some of my favorite topics of conversation and reflective thought. So, I’ve been working up this practice for some time now, and recently started reading Eat, Pray, Love. You can just go ahead and call me cliche or say I’m just another one of those typical girls/women who gets into that book, and I’ll grant that, but you have no idea what kind of impact that book had on me. Basically, as I’m reading this book about pleasure and searching for the divine and balance, I start finding these same themes in my life, but maybe in a different order.
First of all, I’m currently on this yogic journey, craving to learn more and understand most deeply, but then I’ve also recently booked my plane ticket to Africa, to understand another culture and find the balance and harmony of compassion and love, and THEN (kicker), signed up for a year abroad in France. Paris, to be exact. Now, at this crossroads of all of these things happening, I started to feel a little bit futuristic in my thinking. And honestly it’s hard for me not to. I’m a dreamer, in the purest, most true sense of the word. Sure, I love the present, but I’m so good at dreaming up the future you’d almost think that was the present, too. Anyway, I recently started to feel like I was running away with the future, not giving enough thought and energy to the things that are already happening here and now, and I’ve been doing more and more yoga, and reading Eat, Pray, Love and (as of two days ago) also reading The Mirror of Yoga. So naturally I felt like I should start looking deeper into my self to start living. Really living. Right now.
Last night, I did. I decided the night before last that I needed to find a meditation class, or maybe a group (I wasn’t quite sure how these things worked), so I went where every aspiring meditator goes to find some guidance and googled “meditation near me.” It worked, believe it or not. I found about four meditation classes taking place just this week. The first one was last night. It was a shambhala meditation group that meets on Wednesday nights from 7-9. Doesn’t sound bad right? Right. Because it wasn’t. It was incredible.
I got to class early and met the coordinator (a teacher of sorts who has practiced for many years), Jill, and a zen Buddhist (slash pre-school teacher slash tai chi teacher) named Liz. They were both significantly older than I am, and both so friendly and welcoming. We chatted for a little while as Paulino (an interesting older man, and long-time friend of Liz’s) and Chris (the only other young person, who brought a homemade cheese ball and tea with him – my hero) trickled in. There we were, just us five, and that was the meditation group. I’ll keep the overview of the meditation brief, because I’m sure you can imagine it. We did 20 minutes of sitting, 10 minutes walking, and then 30 more minutes of sitting meditation, simply observing our thoughts and listening to our breathing with our eyes open, gazing about 4 feet ahead to stay present. This was an interesting time to say the least, but what followed was even more profound. We sat in silence with one another for that full hour, almost as though we were all so lost in our own minds that no one else truly existed, and then the gong was rung to bring us back, and we again acknowledged each others presence. We took a 5 minute break, during which Jill made tea and Chris served up his cheese ball (which was incredibly tasty, by the way).
When we returned to our cushions, sitting around in a little circle of five, it was as though we were no longer strangers, but old friends, intentionally meeting for a little get together. The conversation flowed easily, and we discussed life on a level of deepness I don’t know that I’ve experienced before. Each one of these incredible individuals brought something entirely unique and interesting to the conversation, and we shared our beliefs and opinions about spirit, God, human interconnectedness, and love for two hours. It flew by. And I came away with three valuable lessons that I’d like to share:
1. Every human being is different, but the same. We all long to be loved, to be understood, to be cared about, and to form relationships with others, but by virtue of the fact that we are human, we are afraid. We judge each other, reflecting our own fears by pointing them out in other people. As our pointer finger juts forward, accusing, we point three fingers back at ourselves. Who are we blaming? Who are we shaming? Both ourselves, and others. Just as we live, we hurt. But we all have the power to change that, simply by acknowledging that we do these things, and seeking instead to love first ourselves, and then others as we see ourselves in them.
2. When we try to put God into one concise definition, we crush the spirit that is Him. By telling other people that they are wrong and we are right, we are limiting the ability of the spirit to connect us as individuals. Our beliefs to have to align entirely for the spirit to work within each of us. It is in understanding and listening that we find peace and interconnectedness.
3. There is nothing in differences and uniqueness that tears us apart, but rather makes us a much more beautiful whole. The people that I sat down with yesterday evening are much more than just their titles (student, Buddhist, teacher, Shaman apprentice…young, old, whatever), they are life sources. In having had different life experiences that we could all share and discuss, we had a shared sense of wisdom seeking. We each understood in those moments that there was nothing quite similar about us, but that that fact in itself offered us each the opportunity to learn something new from someone else in the group. We all had to listen, and nobody could be more important than someone else.
Last night, I entered a room full of strangers will a little uncertainty and a whole lot of questions. I left with friends; people that I can truly say I felt great love for, and felt the overwhelming need to hug as I left. So I hugged them all, promised to return for the next group meeting (and meant it), and left with a heart full of love, the worlds largest smile, and the greatest sense of happiness and relief I think I’ve ever felt after such a short and informal event. I believe this is where my journey truly begins, and I have every intention of continuing it.
The Transition Artist 