You put one foot down and then the other. You go lower, step by step. Slow sometimes. Or maybe you take the stairs two at a time. But eventually -- after a couple meters or maybe it takes a whole mile -- a switch somewhere flips and the stairs go flat and your feet go out from under you and you slide down the rest of the way. Into sleep. Into unconsciousness.
It feels good. It refuels.
But when you meditate, that's not where you want to go. And that's not how you want to get there.
So you stay off those stairs and instead walk in careful, concentric circles. You're trying to spiral toward something still and sacred and solely. solely. solely the self. But before you know it you've gone off course, taken some tangent in a straight line away from your center. Maybe you realize it right away. Or maybe you walk until a blister forms and then you feel it how far you've come.
You could forget it right then. Leave that path behind for good. It's not worth it. It's too hard. But instead you turn slowly, curving inward again, until your path follows a new spiral toward the same center.
And you keep going like this, following tangents and finding the spiral, until finally you're not moving at all.You're still. And then the switch flips but its not the stairs shooting out from under your feet. It's the light. You found it. And it illuminates you.
|photo credit: Rosmarie Wirz|