Don’t worry. I don’t intend to post every meditation visual I ever have. These are different for me, however. I feel like I’ve moved beyond some stumbling block I had always experienced in the past. As if I’m learning to move beyond myself. In other words, my physical self is not part of the visual as they have been in the past.
To be honest, these posts about my meditations are as much for me as anyone reading this. I don’t always have my journal with me. I can’t always look back at them when I’m not at home. When I’m feeling stressed, I want to revisit these meditations.
Therefore, I’m sharing them here so I have easy access to particular meditations that felt like they changed me in some way. Maybe someone else, however, can gain something from these, as well. Or, at the very least, maybe it will encourage you to see what your mind’s eye shares with you during meditation.
It begins with me as a nondescript blue silhouette standing in a space that is darker blue. It’s rather flat like construction paper cutouts. There are no depths or shadows or anything of that sort, but when I move, it’s animated, not like construction paper. There is a thin black line in front of me. As I move closer I see that it is a grid-like mesh wire. Tiny little openings.
I stand directly in front of it, my nose no more than an inch away, if that much. I begin to walk through the mesh. As my body (nose first) comes through the other side, it looks the same except now it is made of thousands, millions of tiny squares. The further I push through the squares start to take on different shades of blue – mostly between white, light blue and the medium, bright blue that I began as.
As my torso comes through the other side, the squares of my nose and face start to drift down.
Then I see a scene looking up to the sky. The colors heavily saturated, and the tops of the trees visible. The clouds are a brilliant white.
From that almost unrealistically blue sky, a flood of the tiny squares billow down in slow motion from the bottom of the sky — almost like spores from a mushroom or ink from a squid. They drift downwards, spinning and tossing in the wind. Now they are translucent but still with tints of blue. They sparkle in the sunlight.
I have a sense of falling, floating like a confetti without heaviness or weight. It’s exhilarating and joyful. The tiny pieces of me are dispersed by a gentle breeze, and I blow across the atmosphere.
A couple of squares land on a leaf. They sparkle and then absorb into the plant. I can feel the sunlight on the surface and the chemical reaction it causes within. I feel the life of the leaf.
Other pieces of me fall into a river down below, and again I am absorbed by the water and I feel the rush of the river flowing towards its destination, skimming over rocks and splashing against the edges of the riverbank.
Up above, a part of me lands on a cloud and drifts peacefully along. Other pieces blow beyond the single cloud to a brewing thunderstorm some miles away. The clouds are dark and gray, and I drop down into the dark center and become part of the storm. Lightning surrounds me. I can feel the thunder reverberate through me.
A strong wind catches a piece of me and forces me below the clouds, and I collide with a bolt of lightning. I feel the energy and the power of it. I am racing toward the earth with an energy strong enough to destroy. Other pieces of me fall into a raindrop, a gentle one. I feel myself falling to the ground and the splash upon landing.
Somewhere else, a part of me slips into a beam of sunlight, and I feel its life-giving power.
From a distance, I can see pieces of me floating through the environment like particles of dust or tiny seeds afloat on the wind. I can feel them spinning and sparkling in the sunlight. Although I am everywhere, I still feel the senses from some central location.
I fall onto the chests of people all around the world and absorb into their bodies. I feel the beat of thousands of hearts at the same time. It’s like a chorus of sorts.
I fall onto the throat of singer and feel the vibrations of the song she sings. I drop on the hands of a guitar player and feel the strum of the strings. I soak into the brain of an artist and feel the electricity and chaos of a creative mind on fire. I fall between the lips of two lovers as they join together in a kiss. The electricity of love surrounding me. While another part of me falls on the forehead of a child just as his mother kisses him where I land. Love unconditional.
Pieces of me begin to fall into the ocean. I feel the sun warm the water where I land and, then as I descend into the depths, the coolness washes over me. I drop into a current and am whisked to another part of the world. I land upon an anemone and feel the ocean’s water sway me back and forth. I feel the sounds of ocean songs as a whale passes by.
Meanwhile, back at the river from the beginning of the meditation. The particles of me began to gather and a blue ghost of me appears. I sit cross-legged in meditation next to the river. Translucent blue and sparkling, my skin resembling a Hindu Goddess. Gradually more and more particles return. From the center of my forehead, at the location of the third eye, a purple lotus sprouts. Equally as translucent and glowing with light.
More and more of the glittering particles drift back to me, landing on the petals of the purple lotus. They sink into the flower, each one adding a sparkle and filling my brain with sensations. I feel everything at once. All of the world is part of me, and I am part of the world.
As the light and sensations fill the lotus and enter my brain and body, a light travels down to my throat. I open my mouth and out comes a tapestry of light, colors, patterns, and flowers. It reminds of the birdsong illustrations of artist Ola Liola.
I close my mouth. The energy then builds within. I begin to glow in white light as the few remaining particles return to me. And that is where I stay until the meditation ends.