My head is high above the clouds. The air is cooler up here and there is a gentle breeze from my right. I can see down into the darkness the long string that is tethering me to my body. It goes down, down, down until it disappears into the dusky depths. Somewhere down below is my body seated in lotus pose. Or at least it’s trying to stay in that pose. It seems that lately it’s been easier. The clouds of thoughts drift by below. Far below I can just make out the lights of my ideas rushing past.
Sometimes I drop 10,000 feet in a sudden rush of forgetfulness and I’m in the traffic of my thoughts – loud, brash, stinky with fumes and the accompanying adrenaline rush that goes with it. But today, I’m staying afloat high above. It’s so quiet up here. It’s like the only thing that is here is the gentle wind and a slight whisper of my voice from time to time, checking to see if I’m really here.
Meditation is so strange. It’s like a stopping of time. I think today I’m closest to ever getting it all to stop. Other times I’ve thought I succeeded only to find myself deep in slumber, snoring and dreaming away.