It’s an early March morning and a small group of us have been meditating on the porch for a little while. Has it been five minutes, ten, twenty? Like a leaf submerged in a pond that gently floats back to the surface, my consciousness hovers between stillness and sensory awareness.
I can feel a soft breeze, alternating between chilly and warm. It’s pushing and pulling at the chimes in the garden, filling the air with sonorous tones, long and full. The early birds have joined in and together, like partners in crime, they’ve coaxed little snowbells to wake up and poke through the ground in milky-white clusters. The snowbells are unaware that they imitate us meditators with our heads bowed down low.
The sounds and the breeze are seductive, intoxicating. Why not spend a lifetime right here, in this state? I have an involuntarily memory that there is more. Or is it less?
And like that, the memory creates a barely perceptible thought, a movement. It’s like ever so carefully tuning a dial to the next station and the next until the reception is pure and clear. With practice, I know the way. Or rather, I’m guided to tune myself to the vibration of the ever-radiating heart within. This is the true North of Heartfulness Meditation.
Yes, static is sometimes there when thoughts carry too much weight, but it’s purpose is useful. The contrast reminds me to breathe, to relax, and to recalibrate to true North. It’s a movement without motion— a tuning further inward. The further inward I go, the greater the sense of expanding outward. At some point, there is no more sense of anything. The one who has been sensing all these things has intermingled with NO thing at all.
Those familiar with the early Midwestern spring in the US, know that the bone-chilling cold will appear again before the week ends. The violets, buttercups or tulips might be victims of the next hard freeze. Is it the memory of spring that pushes them onward? Is it their love affair with the sun—the star within their heart of hearts that carries them forward?
Rememori – From Latin remembering “recall to mind, remember,” from re- “again” + memorari “be mindful of,” from memor “mindful”