Everyone recommends meditation. It connects you with your soul - with your source. In your time without thought you begin to understand, on a deeper level, who you really are. I tried many times over the years to get in to the routine, but there was always a 'trauma' that would bring me back to thought, or a hip that gave too much pain, or a leg that went to sleep, or, or, or.
Finally I came to the understanding while I sat by the river one day, that that was my meditation. I had been doing it all along. I had been meditating and connecting with source since a child; as I watched spider spin her web; ants dig tiny grains of sand from a hole in the ground and carry them away; ants, again, laboriously moving tiny bits of leaves towards that hole in the ground and down to the nest; sunshine sparkling on the ripples of the lake and the pattern that creates on the lake bottom; leaves drifting and swirling slowly down the creek; and paint flowing across a canvas.
There it was.
I was not 'lacking' anything. I was not 'less than' all the wonderful people who can sit and meditate for hours. It had been ingrained in me from the beginning - I just did not recognize its form. I can lapse into that connection with the flickering candle flame; watching a wasp chewing old wood to help build a nest; drawing line after line, making mark after mark, on a piece of paper; watching the setting sun slowly sink behind the mountain tops and take its shining light with it.
I am there.
Connected.
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