Erik jerked, jumping seemingly feet above the bed where he had been lying motionless, meditating. He’d been at it for only a few minutes. No, he’d been at it for nearly an hour. Where did the time go?
It was in Sweden years before, in Skara, when a man named Ståle taught him to meditate. Erik had gone there the summer between his eleventh and twelfth years in high school to learn how to blacksmith and while he did learn to forge metal, he also learned how to forge his mind.
He pursued neither after returning home and in essence, got caught up with the standard American way of life, party, college, and more partying. He got a good job, had friends, and hobbies, but nothing truly seemed to matter. Nothing held any particular meaning. Despite the money and the toys and everything else, his life was shallow.
So Erik went back. He went back in time and thought and remembered meditating in the early mornings in Sweden, before his blacksmithing lessons.
Two weeks ago
Erik lay back and got comfortable. Starting with his toes, he systematically relaxed every joint, every muscle from his feet to the top of his head all the while taking controlled and purposeful breaths.
Once relaxed, he kept his mind clean, a black slate of nothing, and breathed, in and out. Time passed and he just breathed. Then, he pictured in his mind’s eye a white sphere, both small and large, blinding yet not painful to look at. It was a star. It was infinitesimally small and undefinably large.
It was.
He focused on the spot, his mind’s eye, as he had done countless times before and then, it blinked.
Eyelids, never seen before, closed down over an eye, darkening the once bright sphere, before opening once more. His mind’s eye was alive.
Eric jerked, heart leaping in his chest, Buhdum, Buhdum, harder and harder.
Gone was his relaxed body and also too gone was his rhythmic breathing. So he lay there, mind racing, heart pumping, and thought of what had just taken place. His eye, his mental construct that he had worked so long to visualize had blinked.
One hour ago
He wouldn’t meditate for two weeks, couldn’t meditate, for fear of what had occurred.
After two weeks, today, Erik understood and accepted what had happened. Well, he didn’t really understand, but he accepted it and was willing to try again.
So nerves finally calm and with his mind at peace, he meditated once more.
Lying on his bed he went through his relaxation and breathing techniques and found himself focused on his mind’s eye, a pure spot of life and harmony floating in his consciousness.
It didn’t blink.
Erik lay there for nearly an hour, not thinking, accepting, allowing stray thoughts to melt away and letting the black tapestry and the contrasting white sphere to be. Immersed in this state of equilibrium, he didn’t immediately notice the sphere slowly rotating.
It rotated 360 degrees before stopping and then looked at him. Erik looked back. It was a face, his face, the face he had when he was five years old. It looked at him, intelligence shining in its eyes, and smiled. It said, “I love you.” It said, “You’re perfect the way you are.”
Erik jumped once more head reeling in the events, heart pumping, heart warming, and not knowing if he would ever meditate again.
Photo by Micah Williams on Unsplash
