I am a meditator. My meditation practice grows with me. My meditation today will not be the same as my meditation yesterday. And tomorrow it will be different, again.
As long as we live, we should keep learning how to live. So said Seneca. I'm inclined to agree.
It is the greatest privilege of being human to truly meet ourselves. It is also probably the greatest challenge. It is, I believe, the journey of a lifetime.
We all of us face the same questions: Who am I? Why am I here? What's all this about?
Some of us ponder these more consciously than others. But, when we slow down and stop, this is what comes to stare all of us in the face, sooner or later...
And this is where it gets tricky. This is what it is to be human. To be fragile. To be vulnerable. To be unclear. To be unsure.
We do not do well in uncertainty. And yet we live in the deepest uncertainty all of the time. So, anything we can do to assist ourselves to live more comfortably with the discomfort is surely a good thing.
The still waters of a lake reflect the beauty around it. When the mind is still, the beauty of the self is reflected.
And this is why I meditate. For, through my practice, the answer becomes a tad more tangible. If only for a moment, or perhaps (if I'm lucky with a following wind) a brief series of moments... I can get a modicum of clarity. And this is the insight that comforts me more than anything I can eat, drink or buy.
Cutting through the busyness of the mind is the challenge I meet each and every day. I have learnt that the busier my mind, the more elusive that peace and wellbeing. For no amount of remembering what has happened, or planning what might, will in fact bring me the contentment I crave. For that, I must drop into stillness, and model with my body the conditions that I wish to prevail in the landscape of my mind.
It takes patience and persistence. And this is why it's called a practice.
All that we are is the result of what we have thought.
The mind is everything.
What we think, we become.