As I meditated this morning my chest felt constricted. I breathed into it and wondered why I was feeling this way. What came forth was a sense of resistance. But resistance to what? I have completed thirty days of meditation. I kept my commitment and finished. So why the feeling of resistance?
What came forth was a sense of let down like I feel the day after Christmas or the first day back from vacation. The build up to the event and the actual enjoyment I experience is often followed by a hollowness born of not having anything to look forward to. In that moment, I realized I was feeling resistance to having it end.
As I sat with that realization, I acknowledged that I hadn’t finished what I set out to do with my writing, that I will never finish what I set out to do. I will always be questing after knowledge and understanding. I will always want to write about issues and causes that are important to me. I am a writer. That is what I do.
Today as I write, I recognize that I may not write specifically about my meditation but my meditation practice has opened me to the possibilities that can come forth when I am present and mindful in any given moment. Thirty uninterrupted days of meditation has cemented my commitment to quieting my mind and finding the inner voice.
Do I think I could write without meditating every day? Yes. The topics on my list continually multiply. But when I sit quietly and allow, when I am receptive to whatever needs to bubble up to the surface, I can focus my writing to capture something that I sense in that silence, something relevant and important for me to share with others.
Anonymity Is No Long Acceptable
Prior to my thirty-day commitment to meditation, I continually procrastinated about writing because I felt uncomfortable writing for an audience. As long as I was writing just for the sake of writing, I could write without fear and without having to worry about the content or the grammar or the number of words I devoted to a particular topic. But as soon as I thought about writing for an audience I would freeze up and find excuses not to write. One of those excuses was my preference for anonymity.
I have, for much of my life, preferred anonymity. It has been a safe haven where I don’t feel threatened. But if I really want to be anonymous I wouldn’t keep finding my way to thoughts of doing my part, of being the change I want to see in the world. I think I may have discovered in this moment that anonymity ranks right up there with apathy and complacency. And, for me, it is no longer acceptable.
Giving up anonymity is a little scary and I’m not sure what comes next, but it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that I am committed to writing and posting to my blog. I am committed to sharing what comes forth from my inner voice because I believe my writing is a vehicle by which I can encourage my readers to live with purpose, to serve others and to be the change they would like to see in the world.
I have learned after thirty days of meditation and writing that I have a very telling inner voice. When I listen to that voice in the stillness, and then step out of the shadows, I am inspired to speak my truth in my writing. My inner voice connects with my public voice in a way that I can now honestly say makes me smile. It has been a long, arduous journey to this realization. It is a journey I am grateful to have walked as I anticipate what is to come. I am not finished. I have only just begun.
Note: After many failed attempts at meditation, I decided to take the advice of music mogul, Russell Simmons, who wrote Success Through Stillness. He suggests setting a timer for twenty minutes and sitting still regardless of distracting thoughts. I wrote after each session to create this thirty-day blog series.