I believe in the power of meditation. It doesn't come easily to me - not sitting still, not clearing my mind, not the part about making space and time and a place in which to do it. And yet.
I once heard a yoga teacher say that the poses we resist are the ones we need the most. So it is for me with meditation. And there's a reason it's called a practice.
When I make the space to sit myself on my meditation cushion (does it have to be on my cushion? what if I am not at home? can't I sit anywhere? is there something special about the cushion? a little taste of the conversations in my head) for two minutes or five or eleven, or when I'm in a groove sixteen, and I aspire to twenty - when I sit for ten minutes everyday or nearly everyday or some days or even one day, I am healed. From the silence, from the space, from the breath. It is like I imagine a dousing with holy water might be for a believer except that the water is air and the flow is in and out of my lungs instead of over my head. But that does not diminish the holiness or the cleansing or the healing, and maybe it enhances all three because they were within me all along.
I have not been practicing these last few months. I let myself get caught up in the whirlwind of my days and my mind and I have been avoiding the cushion and the stillness. This message is for me, a reminder to myself - sit, you will be glad you did.