Monday, June 16, 2008
Morning Meditation (poem)
Morning Meditation
I give up.
I don’t know
what this is,
where it comes from,
or why.
I only know that
when it happens,
it tells me
who I am,
who I have been,
will be always.
Think of it this way.
Say you are walking
along,
listening to the birds
celebrating in the trees,
perhaps a bit of sweet
surf
caressing the sand--
when celestial music
swells in your ear.
Would you stop
and look around
to find the source?
(Perhaps another stroller
with electronics in his hand,
or else musicians down
on the shore.)
Wouldn't you just
hold your breath and listen?
Wouldn't you reach out
to touch any angels
that were near?
I give up.
I don’t know
what this is,
where it comes from,
or why.
I only know that
when it happens,
it tells me
who I am,
who I have been,
will be always.
Think of it this way.
Say you are walking
along,
listening to the birds
celebrating in the trees,
perhaps a bit of sweet
surf
caressing the sand--
when celestial music
swells in your ear.
Would you stop
and look around
to find the source?
(Perhaps another stroller
with electronics in his hand,
or else musicians down
on the shore.)
Wouldn't you just
hold your breath and listen?
Wouldn't you reach out
to touch any angels
that were near?
Dorothy Walters
June l6, 2008
Like so many meditations recently, this morning's seemed "special." I was listening to Tibetan chanting, the kind that drives many people crazy, but which for me acts as a trigger for awakening the deep energies. Once more, I followed inner guidance, moving my hands in circles over my aura, this time starting from the lower chakras, then moving upward to the higher.
The CD is one of my favorites: "Tibetan Buddhism, The Ritual Orchestra and Chants" from the Nonesuch Explorer Series (recorded by David Lewiston.) It is available from Amazon, but must be ordered from Germany, so it takes quite a while for it to arrive. I recommend it highly to anyone enamored of Tibetan chanting complete with cymbals and horns.
The first part of the ceremony is an invocation to Padma Sambhava (the great teacher who brought Buddhism to Tibet centuries ago) and the effect is quite powerful. One feels as if a deity is in fact present, a being beyond ordinary experience. The ceremony then includes prayers and offerings, pleas for protection, and "sharing of merits accumulated by the performance."
I find this last component of special interest, since I also offer up prayers for others (those known to me as well as all sentient beings) as part of my practice. It is my belief that one should not resist ecstasy (because it might be deemed merely a personal indulgence) but rather should welcome it as a form of prayer, a way of bringing oneself and humanity into alignment with higher realms, and a means of healing for the world.
(image from source)
