As I Sit Quietly and Listen
I make a habit of sitting quietly and listening to the infinite silence of the universe. I do this each and every day because it is calming. I engage in the quiet of the emptiness of all that surrounds me while I work on shutting out the objective world if only for a few minutes. When I emerge from a meditative state I feel refreshed, ready to resume my lived experience in the objective world around me with the clarity of this very moment, the instant of existence being more than a set of intentions, more than desires, more than problems, more than the unintended consequences of actions; in this very moment I am alive, an existent, a depositor of traces that are but flimsy recollections of a moment past.
This very moment of existence is vibrant, filled with the spark of life. It is the very root of the power to connect to the absolute Other through the intimate interaction with the existing other, the other person with whom a face-to-face encounter mirrors the potential encounter with the infinite. The very moment of existence is filled with the joy of living in the objective world, the power of proximity created by announcement, the patience of waiting for response. But it also provides one with the absolute knowledge that all is good; that even when news is bad, there is still the moment of existence that moves one forward to the ultimate transition, the clarity of engaging with the infinite from which one emerged.
Meditation is a learned experience. I have been practicing some form of meditation for a bit more than 22 years. It helped me overcome any number of difficulties along the way. In its current form, my meditation is quite simple. I stop activities, sit straight in a comfortable chair, fold my hands on my lap, close my eyes and listen to my breathing. Breathing is the metronome that transports me from this world into the absolute quiet of the universe. Some days the transition is quick while other days the transition takes some time. On rare occasions, but especially when there is physical pain, meditation does not transform. Yet even on those bad days, I emerge a quieter, more centered human being. That is the goal and the results make for a positive lived experience.