This morning, I tried to sit in meditation again. In some moments, I could feel the awareness arise—calm, clear, present. But in other moments, it just wouldn’t happen. And I’ve realized, that’s completely natural.
Meditation doesn’t occur for 24 hours a day. It doesn’t even occur for a full hour without effort. What we can practice is concentration—ekagrata—but dhyan… true meditation… it arises on its own.
I am just a simple woman, a mother immersed in the rhythm of a household. I'm bound by my responsibilities, especially to my little one—my three-year-old toddler. And anyone who’s raised a toddler knows that managing them is far from easy. Her endless energy, her jumping, her mischief—this is my reality all day.
But I’ve started doing something quietly powerful—I try to observe her chaos with Sakshi Bhav, the attitude of a witness. I try to transform that watching into meditation.
That’s what my entire day has started to look like lately: an attempt to remain conscious and aware amidst the whirl of noise, mess, meals, toys, and tantrums.
The times we live in have almost forced us into multitasking. And while multitasking might be a survival skill in this age, it feels like a curse when it comes to meditation.
The mind is built to handle only one thing at a time. Multitasking pulls it in different directions, constantly scattering its focus—and with it, my peace.
Still, I keep returning to this small yet powerful intention: to watch, to witness, to breathe… to keep showing up.
Comments
Post a Comment