Today, I tried binaural beats for my meditation. It has been recommended to me a few times. I’m not certain if I’m finding the right thing or not, though. It always sounds a little like space sounds to me.
Regardless, it’s supposed to put you a trancelike mindset. That’s good for meditation. In that sense, it worked very well. So I would give it a try if you want a little help dropping into your meditation.
Isochronic tones is another suggestion I will try later this evening or tomorrow. I’ve given it a quick listen. Repeated beats. Both make me think of space, though. I can’t tell you why.
As a result, I have another short story for you based on a meditation. Of course, this meditation visual/story was based in outer space. Enjoy!
The nightmare jerked Nori awake. Her heart pounded in her chest hard and fast.
Jesus, what is happening? She ran her hand through her hair and rubbed her forehead to calm her nerves. I’ve got three more months to go.
The past few days Nori had experienced nightmares. Each one rousing her from much-needed sleep. A sense of dread had crept into her mind, but she didn’t know why.
Her mission was going well. Three months into the project, the technology to help repair the ozone was in place. The results were looking good. Her reports back home had sparked enthusiasm on all sides.
Still, she found herself growing tenser each day. After recovering from the dream, she made her way to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. Part way to her destination, she stopped and decided instead to mediate.
I think I need this today. Hold on the caffeine for a minute
She typically didn’t meditate on a mission. Life in a space was its own sort of meditation. The constant, low humming was trancelike and a view of the entire universe spread out before her. on a daily basis. A better meditation room could never be designed. It was peaceful except for the occasional knocking and self-adjusting of equipment.
Regardless, her nerves were shot. The lack of sleep, the bad dreams — she opted to give herself a few minutes before starting her day.
She returned to her sleep chamber and attached herself so she wouldn’t float around the cabin. She took her usual seated position and closed her eyes. The ever-present white noise easing her into quietness.
As she sat, cross-legged, she chanted to her self. Her muscles relaxed. Her mind settled. A few deep breaths and she had begun to feel a little better.
Then the image from her dream appeared behind her eyes. She was staring at the earth, as she does so much of the time. Sunlight illuminated the planet’s surface. Some areas covered with a layer of clouds.
From the eastern coast of North America, a small area of darkness began to spread across the land. She thought to report it, but it moved too quickly. Her heart raced as the blackness spread across the continent.
She wasn’t sure if it was a disease. A device that had wiped out everything in sight. It looked like cancer spreading across the hemisphere.
“Shit,” she said aloud to herself.
Her eyes snapped open. The meditation was a mistake. She shook it off and began her morning routine.
After preparing herself a coffee, she sat at the monitor to take in the day’s news. She hesitated before reading. Part of her worried that the news was the issue. Each day she felt a little worse about what she read. The earth looked peaceful from her view, but the news told a different story.
I need to know what’s going on in the world. With that thought, she proceeded to read.
Nothing out of the ordinary. It was the same news with the same dramas. Still, the dread seemed to grow.
She rose to begin her morning exercise before gathering the data from the instruments and preparing her reports. As she moved about the cabin, her chest tightened.
Nori paused and took a few deep breaths. Her lungs squeezed even tighter. In fact, they began to stop functioning or that’s how it felt to her.
Am I having a heart attack?
Her breath was restricted. Her heart pounded just as it had when she woke up. Her arteries filled with blood to the point of bursting. She could feel every beat of her heart throbbing in her arms and her neck. She couldn’t swallow. She couldn’t speak. She felt dizzy and nauseated.
She tried to reach the communication panel, but her body wouldn’t allow her. Her muscles were too tense.
I’m trapped in this space can, and I can’t get out.
For the first time in her life, she wanted to be anywhere but space. Anger and fear coiled around her until she was immobilized.
This is it.
Unable to do anything, she simply curled into a ball waiting for her own death, alone in the cosmos. Her body tensed to the point that it hurt. She was certain that the pain emanated from her heart. The throbbing continued throughout her body. Her head ached.
She drifted around the cabin occasionally bouncing off something, sending her off in a different direction. After several minutes had passed, her breathing eased. Her lungs relaxed and the breath began to flow naturally. Her muscles released their grip and she slowly unfolded her limbs.
Exhausted, Nori released her entire body and floated quietly for a few minutes. Her eyes remained closed as she attempted to find her equilibrium again.
“Fuck,” was the only thing she could mutter once her throat relaxed enough to speak.
Regaining her composer, she needed to send a report back home about her panic attack.
I don’t understand. I’ve never had a panic attack. Something isn’t right.
She recorded the incident in her journal before calling it in.
I don’t know what they are going to do with this. Worried about her future, she hesitated about reporting it officially.
Maybe it’s just the one time.
She looked back down at her journal and noticed the end of her last entry. Flipping back through the last few days, a common theme revealed itself. Her thoughts had grown increasingly concerned.
She read about her nightmares. The earth was always ending while she was out in space never able to return home. Or, if she returned home somehow, it wasn’t the same earth she left behind — war-torn, demolished. Everyone pitted against one another in their own survival.
It’s not the one time. Disheartened by her own journal, she called in her report.
“This is Nori Jordan of the Mission Ra. I believe I have just experienced a panic attack. All is good now. Thank you.”
Eventually, she knew another voice would come online. They would likely pull in a psychiatrist to speak with her to make sure she could finish out the program.
She took the moment to relax and recover from the event. The planet in full view in front of her.
“God, that’s beautiful,” she whispered to herself. The fragility of its existence only truly known by astronauts, scientists and philosophers.
This was the mediation she had needed earlier. She watched storms swirl out over the oceans and imagined the billions of people milling about their lives on the earth’s surface — like ants in an anthill. All serving their purpose. Repairing themselves and the world around them. The earth healing itself rather than the new technology she was monitoring doing the job.
If I die up here, it will be OK, she thought to herself. I’m up here among the stars. With a view on all humanity. Seeing the possibilities. That’s not a bad way to go, is it?
A static-filled greeting came through the communication system. “Good morning, Nori. This is Dr. Eli. How are you feeling this morning?”
“Good morning, Dr. Eli. I’m feeling much better now. Thanks.”