Bradley | Oct 13, 2020 | 0
- Repossible | Meditations
- One Idea Per Day
- If this were a drug, I’d inject it daily.
- That Delicious “SPARK” of Clarity of a Sunday Morning Meditation
- Keys Lodged in his Back
- 1 hour and 13 minutes of delirious decision making
- Let Go, Get Unstuck, and Use the Power of the River
- Repossible | Meditations | The Attic | and Two Methods to Monetize Audio
So I’ve got that going for me. Which is nice.
Partly because I’ve always use The Cream here to get down what I need to get out and partly because I have 84 other things to do this morning and I don’t feel like putting this in some secret “Notes” file, here goes a quick recap of my meditation this morning.
I try to switch out and change up the guided meditations I do daily. This morning was this one, which I’ve done a few times now and I get quite a kick out of:
Early on, before the voice is even telling where I can (and can’t yet) go, I’m going there.
I’m above South Lake Tahoe, a valley I remember from when we used to spend quite some time there and I used to go up to a mountaintop to meditate.
The tribe from which Tahoe got its name was called Washoe. I don’t anything about them other than that name but often I would chant quietly their name from up above.
Often I would rest in some clouds above the valley below and in recent years, my dad would join me.
What’s fun about this meditation is it goes out above our planet and then we see it slowing down and then even reversing, thus turning back time.
Having fun yet? 😉
I was ahead of the eight ball as I quickly descended into the clouds above South Lake and soon went north to where those cabins were. There’s something of a national park there where you can visit cabins and structures as they used to be–I can’t remember the name of it.
This all happens quickly and as the meditation leads me through what I’m wearing at the time, it’s so clear and so fast. I’m something of a rugged cowboy: thick square-toed boots, heavy chaps, a light jacket and then, as if the image is building before my “eyes,” I see I’m holding something.
It’s at an angle like a rifle but it forms and I see it’s a banjo–or another guitar-like instrument.
Our hero, yep, that would be, uh, right, me, is belting out some tunes there in the main hall but he’s not on stage, just hanging out and sharing his gift of song and story.
He heads into a back room and lies down on his back, puts his legs up on a chair and says, directly to me in the present day, “Oh, so this is how we’re doing it now?” meaning that he was doing what I was doing which was lying on my back on the floor with my legs up on the seat of a chair.
IMHO, I feel that meditation should not be in the exact same position as other things you do. So, not too much like sleep, not like reclining, not just sitting, etc.
In order to not be too much like a sleeping position, I lie on my back and put my legs up on the seat of a chair.
He did this, too, well, “he,” I guess that’s “me” or a part of me or was me or, yeah, well, hey, I’m just the messenger here.
I forgot but in the meditation, I was supposed to bring up a challenge I’m currently facing and I forgot to do that or at least couldn’t remember what it was.
Oh, forgot, his name was something that began with a “K” or had a “K” in it and was something like knife but not Kevin. The name that came to me was from Grease and just now looked up how to spell: Kenickie.
At this point, I’m not sure if it was words or feeling or vibration but what I got from him was his sense of rhythm or song or music. I would love to have this as I feel musically, uh, challenged and I’d like to get more song into my story.
Maybe this will help with the upcoming meditations I’m working on: background noise, story, maybe something like a country song.
Eventually, he got back up, unlocked the door to where he was and he went back into the room and played his instrument again and started singing.
My meditation was ending, I thanked everyone for helping me get there and yet the best part was how he told me I could connect with him anytime I wanted, “Just come on by.” he said and it was as if it were all so easy.
And it is.
There you have it. I might deny all of this in a court of law but … just kidding.
This is the fun stuff.
This is what I do on a Saturday morning early before anyone else is up.
What’s your secret pleasure?