It’s not dark, quiet, or serene. Or is it? Can you do it?

Things started too early this morning to get my meditation in and it’s becoming a vital part of my day, so it’s not if I’ll find the time, it’s how I’ll make the time. Ideally, it’s a quiet room in a nice chair where it’s dark and I know I won’t be interrupted. Let’s see, the bus is noisy, bright, but I won’t be interrupted. Which factors are must haves and which are nice to haves? For me, I just need to know that I won’t be interrupted.

Good headphones, my favorite “Water Rising” guided meditation, shut my eyes, shut out the world and let ‘er rip.

Guide to Greyhound Meditation

I bet they don’t advertise this on the website … 

The low rumble of the bus quickly soothed my senses and I was sooner into a deeper state than usual. With turns and bumps, I was rolled and rustled side to side and gently up and down. I let the vibration of the road turn my seat into a massage lounge chair and it settled my blood and skin and everything inside of me into a balanced mix of innards that gelled like it’s supposed to. What was stressed and higher up moved down and what needed a jolt of energy moved up.

The rising water covered my feet and a pleasant electrical current came through my feet from the water. It came from the electricity of the bus but also from the other passengers. Their energy, at least any excesses they might have, flowed through the layer of water on the floor of the bus and came over to me. I soaked it up like a thirsty tree and let it run through my body and deposit itself where it was needed. If excess was found in my body or maybe energy I wasn’t using that someone else could use, it went out of my body and through the water and into them. A little bonus they didn’t know they’d get with their Greyhound ticket.

The water rose slowly and covered my shins and calves and somehow the driver didn’t feel the need to pull over. Energy was flowing fast and steadily throughout the bus and it jolted me a few times with an unexpected shock, but the good kind. As it rose, I worked on the vision of the water around me and let my subconscious get to work on healing anything in my body that needed it. Up to my waist, then shoulders and soon my mouth, nose and eyes were underwater. It’s a strange sensation to be underwater completely and not worried about breathing, but I’m past that speed bump.

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Deep rumble of the road, soft sway of the turns, perfect for meditation.

Deep rumble of the road, soft sway of the turns, perfect for meditation.

As it covered my head and filled the entire cavity of the bus it provided a warmth and soothing gel-like feel that was comforting and cozy, like a blanket, but your favorite blanket on a cool evening in your favorite spot. Although my fellow passengers didn’t know it, we were sharing electrons like you might share a single spoon in a tub of ice cream–but not yucky like that. Good sharing, like with your little boy.

The rumble of the vehicle jostled the water not to the level of a jacuzzi, but to the point where it was a liquid massage, an underwater masseuse working on my muscles, skin, and joints. I let it go as long as I could keep the vision. As the water expanded beyond the bus to fill all space, I become small and insignificant, I became a tiny blip, something so minuscule that healing and soothing it couldn’t be much bother for some greater spirit working this show. I let my tiny self be swept away with the meandering current that took me out of the bus and slowly away to a place I couldn’t see and soon I was gone.

I held the liquid voyage as long as I could in my mind, but soon it was darkness and silence and still. I was done. I opened my eyes.

If you’re looking for excuses, you’ll find them. If you’re looking for a way to make it happen, you’ll make it happen.

I wasn’t sure it was going to work, but in the end, it was better than even my regular morning ritual. Maybe there’s something to be said for meditating in a different place from time to time. I wouldn’t know, I’m a beginner. But somehow, I’m also an expert.

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If you condition your newborn to sleep when it’s noisy or light, they’ll sleep better later in life–and won’t “need” silence and darkness.

Can we meditate anywhere? Where have you meditated that’s out of the ordinary?

  • Possible: take the bus
  • Impossible: drive and meditate
  • Repossible: make it your bus

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