Tag: meditation

Dawn—The Sacred Hour

Photograph © 2002 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2002 Peggy Kornegger
Since the beginning of December, I have been drawn to meditate in complete silence for a full hour as the sky is lightening just before dawn. I usually meditate in the early morning each day, but recently, the timing has become very precise. Some inner guidance awakens me while it’s still dark. Sleepily, I walk to the chilly living room and wrap myself in a blanket before sitting in my favorite chair to meditate. The guidance seems very clear that nothing less than an hour will do (sometimes more), and thus I am present for the complete experience of sunrise: darkness to first light to full radiant sun shining. It takes that amount of time for my physical body to settle into the depth of meditation required of me. This is not the one-breath-and-you’re-there process that sometimes is my experience. I am going much, much deeper now, and commitment and patience are necessary.

As I sit through the restlessness of my mind and body, I bring myself repeatedly back to the breath and gradually sink down into the inner stillness and peace of the soul, which always awaits me. It takes a full hour to get there, but “there” is deeper and more expansive than ever before. The breath, slow and steady, carries me to a place where infinite space without boundaries opens up all around me. In fact, there is no “me” really. Instead, there is consciousness, being without form, which has no beginning or end. Separation does not exist. I am aware of my physical body as a transitory container for that infinite beingness. The body is temporary, but consciousness is eternal. I experience this rather than think it.

I open my eyes at this point because I can feel the sun’s rays on my face. As the sun becomes fully visible over the tops of the trees, light fills the sky and illuminates everything. Each tree branch, each drop of water, sparkles and radiates light. Multiple suns are reflected in the window glass; dream-catchers and hanging crystals shimmer and dance. Ordinary objects are magically transformed in the light. I am transformed. Or perhaps the more accurate word is revealed. The soul of all things is revealed, and my eyes, filled with light, see the true nature of everything, which is radiant, sparkling divine light. I understand that we all are that. The details vary and morph into different forms, but our essence, the core essence of all things, is divine light.

As I continue to sit in the silence, an all-encompassing love fills my heart with gratitude and my eyes with tears. Dawn—the sacred hour when divinity and infinity reveal themselves as one in the light, and the soul silently witnesses it all. This is the amazing power and grace of the dawn hour, an unexpected gift of warmth, light, and renewal in the midst of this cold New England winter.

Making Space for Spirit

© 2012 Anne S. Katzeff / Artist
© 2012 Anne S. Katzeff / Artist
People have gone on retreats within various spiritual traditions for hundreds of years. The definition of the verb retreat is to “withdraw” or “move back.” In a spiritual context, an individual usually withdraws from the world and goes within, seeking a deeper connection to self, to spirit, or both. Today, many people go on retreats that provide time and space apart from day-to-day life in order to renew their physical body and inner spirit. Both yoga and meditation are frequently offered for week-long retreats in peaceful locations where participants can relax into being instead of doing.

My first retreat was a 10-day trip to Tulum, Mexico, with Brooke Medicine Eagle and Angeles Arrien in 1997. Fifty of us stayed in palapas (stone structures with thatched roofs) next to the Caribbean and met daily for shamanic journeys and sharing in small groups. We visited Maya temples and also spent 24 hours in silence at the end of the retreat. That day/night was the most powerful part of the trip for me because I felt deeply aligned with something greater than my own life as I walked and sat alone in silent meditation. Upon returning home, I decided I would find a way to include retreats in my life regularly.

Since then, whether on a longer trip to a sacred site outside the United States or more locally at New England centers such as Kripalu, Omega, or Rowe, I have periodically stepped away from my life and gone inward to connect with spirit. Last month, however, my time/space apart took the form of an at-home retreat in combination with one of Panache’s Desai’s online programs. I found that if I formed the intention of “retreat,” I actually didn’t need to leave my home or travel great distances to get away. Instead, I limited social and online activities and spent longer periods of time in meditation and silence. Retreat became an inner place of the soul that I could access any time I took a deep breath, relaxed, and tuned in. The key was making space for that experience.

In our busy, multi-tasking lives, we often run from one activity to another and then fall into bed exhausted. We think we don’t have time for anything else, and certainly not a retreat, of any kind. Yet, it is possible to step back, even for a moment, and experience a quieter, unhurried part of ourselves. Your spirit is always waiting for you to connect with it. Find a quiet corner, close your eyes, breathe deeply, and you are there. The mind will try to keep you spinning along on a high-speed wheel of mental activity, but the breath can sidestep that compulsive tendency. View thoughts as passing clouds in the sky, or passing waves in the ocean, and gradually, with each deep breath, you will be able to rest in the space beyond thought—soul as silent witness.

Of course, the goal is not to abolish thinking entirely (unrealistic for most of us) but to become aware of it. In so doing, you are seamlessly connected to the part of you that is witnessing your life peacefully and without judgment. That experience alone, whether a minute, an hour, or a week, can provide you with a renewed inner spirit and refreshed physical body. Suddenly, the need to rush through every task on your to-do list seems less urgent, and you begin to allow other possibilities to arise. One or two consciously centered deep breaths can make that inner space available. A retreat is as close as your next inhalation. Give it a try, and the edges of your life may begin to expand in all directions. Make space for the infinite within and without, and your spirit will be forever grateful.

The Zen of Bird-Watching

Photograph © 2013 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2013 Peggy Kornegger
If you want to develop greater inner patience and be a better listener, become a bird-watcher. If you want to learn how to remain motionless in absolute silence for open-ended periods of time, become a bird-watcher. And, if you long to experience being so centered in present-moment awareness that nothing else exists, become a bird-watcher. Sound kind of Zen-like?

More than 20 years ago, I became a bird-watcher for none of the reasons mentioned above. I loved birds, that’s all. I loved their colors, their songs, their marathon migration flights between South and North America. Everything about them was awe-inspiring. Gradually, however, bird-watching also became a spiritual practice for me. Because my interest in birds developed simultaneously with my interest in meditation, the natural similarities became interwoven in my consciousness. Both meditation and bird-watching involve focus and quiet; they also require awareness and presence. I found that whether I was sitting in meditation at home or walking meditatively outdoors in nature, my inner consciousness and my outer behavior were almost identical.

Over the years, the peace that I feel while meditating or bird-watching has brought with it an underlying joy at being alive. In fact, the distinction between meditation and normal waking consciousness has blurred for me. The practice of centering my awareness in the present moment makes all of life a meditation. And never more so than springtime in Massachusetts, when birds by the thousands fly from the tropics to mate and raise families in North America. Every year, bird-watchers eagerly anticipate the magic of this relatively small window of time when the birds are passing through in a parade of colors and sound. Why the excitement, you may wonder?

Well, to me, their brightly colored spring plumage (reds, oranges, yellows, blues, greens) and their varied spring songs are just plain thrilling to see and hear. One of the first sounds signaling the coming seasonal changes is the ringing-telephone song of the red-winged blackbird (photo above). He lifts and spreads his wings to show off his colorful wing patches when he calls. As migration begins in earnest, the songs of the wood thrush and veery fill the woods with an ethereal flute-like quality that make me feel as if I have been transported to a sacred outdoor chapel. Two of my favorite birds are the orange-and-black Baltimore oriole and the red-and-black scarlet tanager, whose saturated colors often evoke audible gasps from bird-watchers when sunlight hits their feathers. Then there are the tiny warblers, in a class all their own, with an infinite variety of markings, colors, and songs. I especially love the blackburnian warbler, whose throat radiates a deep neon-orange in the sun, and the Canada warbler, whose lemon-yellow chest and throat are accessorized with a delicate black “necklace.”

It’s each bird’s unique beauty that captures my heart and transforms mere watching into something deeper. Meditation, contemplation, Zen peace of mind/spirit—but also more than that. There have been times when a bird has landed on a branch directly in front of me and begun to sing, looking directly at me. A thread of light, of living attention, links bird and human for a moment in time. It is then that I experience that miracle of connection that makes me believe unequivocally in the familial relationship of all beings on Earth.

Infinite Inner Space

© 2007 Anne S. Katzeff / Artist
© 2007 Anne S. Katzeff / Artist

“Your soul is the silent witness of your life.”
—Panache Desai

That one sentence changed everything for me. Yes, I had heard about the “witness” before, but it was an idea in my head that I could never access within my own experience. After years and years of meditation practice, I continued to be lost in my thoughts. Then, during a webcast, I listened to Panache talk about dropping into present-moment awareness by simply taking a deep breath and repeating, “Here I am.” And here I am. And here I am. Now. And now. And now. Something shifted within me, and I was there, or rather here, in presence. The next morning at sunrise, during meditation, I was able to step back from my mind’s mental chatter into a silent inner space of awareness, of peace. When thoughts arose, I could observe them without losing consciousness. If I drifted into my thoughts momentarily, I found I could bring my self back to witnessing from the soul’s point of view: “Here I AM…now.”

That I AM that lives within each breath is greater than the personality self connected to the mind. It is a pure state of being, of infinite consciousness, which links all beings on the planet, actually in the cosmos. When I access that inner silent space, I am in the same place that you are when you access it. Within that living awareness, we are in complete and utter oneness. Within that space is the deepest peace and calm I have ever known. Infinite, with no fear attached to the endless being-ness. Some call this place Heaven, or Home. It is the source from which we all arise into human form and into which we dissolve at the end of our lives. It is God or Goddess; it is Great Spirit. It is Om.

And immersion in this profound state of consciousness is not limited to human beings. Animals experience their own contemplative moments. My dear cat Lily in her elder years used to sit on the back of the couch by the window, facing west at sunset, eyes closed in deep meditation. In the tall oak tree in my neighbor’s back yard, leafless now in the winter months, birds gather each evening, all facing west, their breasts shining red-gold in the setting sun.

We creatures living on Planet Earth find connection and comfort in the profound sacred silence that occurs at moments like sunrise and sunset. It reminds us of something beyond our lifetimes, something eternal and infinite at the heart of the universe—and within our own hearts. It reminds us that even when we feel most alone, there is always the loving presence of a greater consciousness of which we are part.

Birth Day

“Welcome Home!” a friend emailed me after I returned from a week’s retreat with Panache Desai at Omega in Rhinebeck, New York, last month. Little did she know how appropriate those words were. In the deepest possible sense, I came home to my self over the course of the two programs (“Receiving Boundless Abundance” and “Awakening Your Authentic Soul Signature”). The weekend Abundance program laid intense groundwork for the second Soul Signature one, and it was during those latter five days that I experienced not one, but two “births,” one taking place on my actual birthday. Along with so many others who were present, I stepped into being more myself (the soul self that I came to this planet to be) than I had ever been in my life.

Panache’s gatherings, more accurately called vibrational transformations, always pack a punch, but this one was off the charts (see previous blog post “The Silence Within” for a description of the avatar presence that Panache embodies which shifts those around him). Most of it was so experiential as to be almost beyond language, but I want to at least try to share one particular morning’s meditation journey in which I relived my birth at the very same clock time that I had been born. Throughout the meditation, Panache played a CD of mantras designed to help us move through any emotional blocks that were keeping us from living our full unlimited potential. We were encouraged to access any past fear- or survival-based experiences so that we could feel them through to completion (and thus free up the flow of life energy within us). He walked quietly among us, speaking occasionally, touching occasionally.

After a short time of not really feeling anything, suddenly I was catapulted into my own traumatic birth experience, in which both my mother and I almost died. She was hemorrhaging, and I broke her tailbone as I came through the birth canal. Reliving it, I experienced the neck and head pain associated with pushing to be born. Survival for me was linked to straining, struggle. My default mode has always been trying, never surrender. Completely letting go has been difficult for me because I always try to do it. As I emotionally felt the source of this within my own birth, something in me finally relaxed and surrendered to the experience of being born, on a physical and energetic level. My whole body began to vibrate, internally and externally, and my root chakra (linked to survival) was pulsing so strongly that it felt like energy was radiating out a foot or more from my lower abdomen. Simultaneously, I felt pressure and tingling at my crown chakra on the top of my head. It was if my energetic life support system was being blasted wide open for the first time since my birth.

The experience was powerfully liberating, and I cried tears of both release and gratitude. In the process of letting go completely and flowing with my rebirth, I also began to feel as if I were being gently touched by Spirit at different points all over my body, particularly my hands, which seemed as if they were being held by strong reassuring spirit hands. I truly felt surrounded by a deeply loving eternal energy, unlike anything I had ever experienced. I was completely beyond the mind and within my heart/soul, trusting the infinite universe that held me. It was amazing. Afterward, in the hours and days that followed, I felt lighter, quite literally—filled with light and spaciousness. Welcome home, indeed!