Meditation and Memories

Meditation is a fascinating exploration of the self. At times I actually crave quiet settling and meditation. In its most quiet sustained moments, some images present themselves without thinking. They just come.

It's fascinating how such relaxed moments produce memories in extraordinary detail.

Not all memories are in pictures. Some are sound, smell or even touch. This discovery was a surprise of sorts.

While settling this past couple of weeks, reoccurring images of the ocean at night have come to me. Here's what presented itself: Deep blue to black, with flattening, over lapping light lines of the layers of dark water. The thinning water becomes almost clear over the gray level sand—I stand there. My feet pressing into firm damp sand.

The ocean at night, appears vast and open. It stretches to a far curving horizon. In the image, there is the noise of breaking water, the smell of moisture in bits and fragments. Over the dark as far as peripheral vision will take, my eyes are wide open. Sometimes as I settle in, the image of a dark horizon and the whole panorama becomes more an more clear, almost like a glossy finish of a quality photograph. Then in the far left side and upper corner, a brilliant green flash. I had been told by the locals that I was seeing the occasional flash of the light house, out of sight, down below the horizon. The flash reflecting off of moisture in the air. Sometimes, behind me, I hear voices, commotion and laughter of the houses back along the shore road. Still that is back ground. The vast deep blue to black in front, across and to the sides dominates.

Now this night water horizon, I see the constellations breaking as my eyes adjust more and more to the dark. Now there are patterns that can be seen along with the haze of the milky way, and a million stars appearing in every direction. It is contrast of starlight and darkness over the deep black water. Its motion, its shear mass and vastness, its movement now is less and less. Water hoizon becomes more and more settled and level. The magnificent and clam vastness envelopes me. It is curious that there is no sense of fear or smallness or in significance. It is just the opposite-- calm, peaceful, immediate, here and now. The longer my breaths, the more glossy blue to black, the more stars and over light of the light house become.

Now the most amazing part. In wuji, my arms relaxed at my side, while below, I feel a slight pressure, then becoming a touch, to a light holding clasp. A small hand now holds mine around the tips of my first two fingers.

This memory was one of touch. It brought me out of the meditation. Now halfway thinking and halfway in the “zone” I looked down. It was my youngest daughter with her flashlight in one small hand while holding my hand with her other. I remembered her hair in tight braids and beads done by a lady who weaved them at the beach. She kept that weave in her hair for weeks afterwards. The beads were sky blue.