Meditation opens the mind to the greatest mystery that takes place daily and hourly; it widens the heart so that it may feel the eternity of time and infinity of space in every throb; it gives us a life within the world as if we were moving about in paradise.
When you sit, allow Mother Earth to sit for you. When you breathe, allow Mother Earth to breathe for you. When you walk, allow Mother Earth to walk for you. Don’t make any effort. Allow her to do it. She knows how to do it. When you are sitting, allow the air to enter your lungs. Allow the air to go out of your lungs. We don’t need to try to breathe in. We don’t need to try to breathe out. We just allow nature, allow the Earth to breathe in and out for us. We just sit there and enjoy the breathing in and the breathing out. There is no “you” who is breathing in and breathing out. The breathing in and the breathing out happen by themselves. Try it. We allow our body to relax totally, without striving or even making an effort. Behave like the fetus in the womb of the mother. Allow your mother to do everything for you, to breathe, to eat, to drink. This is possible if you know how to take refuge in Mother Earth.
The story is not merely a telling. It is not merely a remembering. The story is an action. The story is a bringing something forth. The story, followed, enacted, and living,
is a world coming into being.
It was as though the growing things that were all around me– trees, grass, flowers in their carefully tended beds, suddenly became aware of me– and that I was listening, really looking, really sensing their own unique signature. And they were glad, very glad indeed, and sent back their own responses at seeing me!
Kipling reverberated through my mind. “Our England is a garden.” Here were still, rural regions, peaceful and beloved, where tranquil rivers flowed, rolling meadows shone in the sun, and castles and cathedrals sat serenely, much as they do in the Britain of storybooks. A little farther afield were grim moors, abrupt hills, and threatening islands. And beyond and behind this outer landscape– I now knew this truth with certainty– there was a hidden world all around me, a world full of magic, mystery, and adventure, and I considered how the character of the British people was molded and informed as much by the quiet and secluded valleys and the steep crags as the mysteries that emanate from behind the trembling veil that separates the unseen world from this one.
To see the world with clear eyes, I must first look inward. Once I have severed identification with what is outside of my essential Self, I am able to look outward in a new way, while maintaining the inward focus. This must be renewed again and again as an act of will, fueled by a longing for true freedom.