Maybe meditation was never meant to be another thing to get right.
As the sittings grow longer, my voice does less and the quiet does more.
Home Below Home
She listens to a flute
she has never heard
in this life and sobs.
Not for a place.
For a frequency.
The body remembers
what the mind was never told.
I have been here before.
I have been this still before.
I have exhaled like this before,
in a silence that asked nothing.
Born on one island,
shaped by another,
pulled toward a place
she has never called her own.
She calls it home anyway.
The home below home.
The one you reach by going down,
not across.
No map could take her there.
And yet
the deeper she goes,
the less it feels like arriving.
More like remembering.
Until somewhere beneath
everything she knows,
she finds a door.
She does not know
what is on the other side.
She knocks anyway.
The First Minute
Starting
I recommend beginning in the morning, before your feet touch the floor. It’s a simple way to make the practice part of your day before everything else begins. If mornings don’t work for you, choose another time.
Start with one minute. Sit or lie somewhere comfortable. Notice your breathing without trying to change it, and rest your attention where you feel it most.
If you fall asleep
Your body may have needed the rest. Try sitting upright to stay awake.
If your body gets uncomfortable
Change position. Being comfortable makes it easier to stay.
If you miss days
Coming back matters more than the days you missed.
Coming back
When you notice you’ve become lost in thought, simply return your attention to your body. It doesn’t matter how often this happens. Each time you come back, you’re practicing.
When it’s too much to hold alone
Sometimes what comes up can feel overwhelming, and it doesn’t always pass when the practice ends. If that happens, you don’t need to push through it.
Stop. Open your eyes. Feel your feet on the floor. Reach out to someone you trust.
Going in is brave. Going in alone isn’t braver.