October 26! Six months (almost to the day!) since my last blog offering. Thankfully, though, the adventure has continued in the interim. I continue to maintain a meditation practice which has improved my life in many unseen ways. Mostly, I’ve become more aware … or less unaware (there is a difference!) of my emotions. I’m beginning to recognize the triggers that set me off, or turn me on, as the case may be. I certainly haven’t abandoned my desire to have conscious out of body experiences, but I see now how important it is to emotionally prepare myself for the experience; to explore the world within before exploring the world without. (Or, perhaps, both explorations occur simultaneously. According to Seth, everything occurs simultaneously – the concepts of past and future are references constructed and maintained by humans.)
There was also a little mini-relationship squeezed in there … well, an attempt at one anyway. I met Kevin (not his real name) on a ski trip back in February. His opening sentences ended with a flirt – “You’ll just have to make it up to me.” And that was it. I was aflame. The intensity, though, was largely one-sided, and I couldn’t seem to catch myself from falling headlong into a pattern that was … well … not helpful. It is surprising, in hindsight, how intense those feelings were. I should be surprised that I was surprised – I’d had these feelings, and been in a similar situation, before. Like quite a few other things, and, I suspect, like quite a few other people, the idea of being in a relationship is wrapped up, tied and tangled up with my self-esteem. It was as though all my entire worth hung by a he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not thread. This time though, I was more aware than I’d been before. Although I couldn’t seem to stop myself, I could tell that I was running pell-mell toward the edge. Meditation was the only activity during which I regained a sense of emotional decorum, which, I think now, spilled over in drips into my waking life. The last time (my relationship with Sam), I did fling myself over the edge, and blindly free-falled into god knows where - a place where suicide seemed particularly seductive. Then, I was long past the fear of death, and long past thoughts of cosmic punishment. I had ventured further into the ‘when and where and how’ (I would do it). This time, although I had again gone past the edge, and had again fallen, like a weird Alice in Wonderland, I was able to make out the rocks as I rushed past. “Look! There’s a nice granite. Ooh! Obsidian!” That level of awareness, I’m guessing, is the result, and the benefit, of the collective hours I’ve spent meditating. Those hours literally saved my life, and restored equilibrium.
So life continues post-Kevin, and although the experience begins to take on the bluish hue of objects on the horizon of time, its effects remain, and will remain: I’m changed ... for the better, I think.
So! Back to this out-of-body business!