The universe is one grand cosmic symphony, and it’s all happening directly through you. You are the maestro, and everything around you forms this great boundless orchestra of a myriad instruments.
Your role as maestro is not to control the flow of music, but to direct it and to bring more harmony to the melody of the universe — a melody otherwise known as life.
When we allow the experience of life to flow freely through our beings, then we are in meditation.
Meditation means making ourselves an empty space, a void through which experience may be received unimpeded. The energy of experience may then be channeled and directed, not from the calculated mind but from a connected heart. This leads the way to meditation in action, the foundation of life lived as meditation.
Meditation is not serious. Meditation is play.
A life lived as meditation is one built on curiousity, receptivity, and playfulness. What is life, after all, but a process of exploration and discovery? — the bringing of light to the darkest of corners.
The one place to begin is always in the here and in the now — the only true reality.
Yesterday is but a fractured memory. Tomorrow is but bits of fantasy. Here, I can touch. Now, I can taste. This, I can know — not just remember, nor merely imagine.
Meditation happens whence we are fully engulfed in the nowness of now — the full experience that is life. It means being alive, fully and without restraint.
It means not running away from the stories we create.
Oh, the stories we create.
Those silly stories. The enlightened master is one who learns to laugh of their own silly stories. What if a person doesn’t like me? What if I try and then fail? What’s going to happen after I die?
None of this matters in the here and in the now. None of this matters in meditation, for these are but problems with impossible solutions — problems I create myself, pose myself, and which have no root in actual reality.
Those beautiful stories, a wonderful gift from my creative nature — but not to be confused with true reality. The mind is not the world. The mind is not who I am — it is more like a movie theater, or a video game — a useful tool in playing the world, but truly no more than a simple tool.
Should I believe I am my mind, then I start to live in my stories. Meditation means stepping out of the stories my mind creates, and enjoying them for what they are: stories and games, no more and no less.
Meditation does not mean stopping the mind.
That would merely be another story — a story of control.
My mind is part of me, but it is not who I wholly am. I can therefore watch it, and appreciate it — without getting lost in it or obsessed with it. I do not need to control my mind, I can simply detach myself and let it be.
Meditation is the flow which blossoms once control is given up. Everything therefore has its place in meditation — even the mind, even the thoughts, even the stories.
See your stories for what they are. See the world for what it is. See yourself for who you are: all of it, yet no simple part of it.
And then laugh yourself silly.
That is the wonderful gift which meditation offers you.