The Answers Lie Within
As you may know, I am in the process of completing my meditation teacher training. I am at the beginning of Week 4 (has it already been four weeks!?). This journey is quite profound. Words cannot capture the level of transformation I’m experiencing. I’m discovering the profound idea of how much “the answers lie within.”
I am going through purification (sort of like a mental detox which I will explain in a later post), and many realizations. I’m experiencing the present moment like I never have before. I am also more relaxed as a result of the meditation than I ever have been in my life.
Last summer I spoke about consulting your spirit council for answers. I have also discovered that we all have an inner knowing. We each have the knowledge inside that gives us answers – to become the best version of ourselves. It’s a matter of “touching the silence.”
In an effort to help convey this idea, I want to share a story – flash fiction style – of how we can be in the depths of our mind to experience progress. I wrote it months ago, but haven’t shared it. For the duration of my meditation teaching training, my posts may either be shorter, and there might even be a week that I am unable to post due to my coursework and studies. But for now, please enjoy. This story is not unlike some of the experiences I’ve either heard about with meditation, or in the realm of possibility for neat things that can happen.
I pulled my sweater tighter around me. It looked like a large storm was coming in. I could see the wall of clouds from my rocky perch out on the ocean’s horizon. Usually the horizon was off in the distance, where infinite blue sky met infinite blue water. Today it was a gray blur where the tide met the sandy beach.
The logical part of me said I should leave. Get back to my tent. But my heart told me to stay. That something was waiting for me. What it was, I had no idea. But I knew I had to stay put.
The wind picked up. And no sooner did I get my rain jacket from my backpack, big, swollen droplets started to splatter on the rocks around me. At first, they were intermittent. But then their pace picked up. I vaguely wondered if my tent was secure enough. No matter. It would work out.
I don’t even know how I ended up here. But something pulled me to this spot. No, more like drew me. I couldn’t quite place it.
All my life I’d been searching. Searching for what to do. Who to be. What to do as a profession.
As the storm swirled around me, I cared not of the pellets of rain pattering against my face. Nor did I care about what could happen if I remained on the rock during a ferocious summer storm. It was only that now – the present – mattered. This moment.
I breathed in the air. The air smelled crisp and so clean, washed of its iniquities by the rain. It came on still harder now.
I was vulnerable on those rocks. Walking on top of them as their surfaces grew slick would be treacherous. Moreover, there were many of them to traverse to get away from the shore.
But then I heard something: “Stay.”
I couldn’t tell if I’d imagined it. I rubbed my eyes to clear excess water. My vision was distorted by continuous droplets mimicking tears.
“What is this?” I shouted to the sea and stood up, as if I could make the storm go away.
“Why am I here? What the hell does life want from me!?”
My own tears mixed with the water droplets. The mixture of hot and cold was a curious sensation.
I closed my eyes, and sat back down. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them and rested my head. I let my mind clear out. Because, I could not, anymore. I was so tired. For months I’d been traveling. I’d find a place on the map, check an app on my phone for a free or nearly-free place to camp. I don’t know why. Something in my heart told me where to go. But after that, I had no idea.
I looked up. The rain still slapped at my face, but on the rocks, not too far away, was a human figure.
“Watch out!” I called immediately. “They’re slick! Watch your step.”
The figure walked toward me with impossible ease.
As it got closer, the recognition that came to mind made my breath catch. “Dad? But, you’re dead!”
The figure just smiled and continued to walk over the rocks, coming ever closer. I unfolded my legs and wiped more water off my face.
“How?” I asked.
I am not here, but I am not dead
He got to the rock right next to mine and put his arms on his hips. His smile was as wide as it could be. He seemed to have some sort of aura around his head. I could only look on, shaking my own head in disbelief while resisting the urge to throw myself into his arms.
“Son, I am not dead. I am not here, but I am not dead.”
I understood that his words were in English, but I did not comprehend them. “What?”
“You came here for a reason. You came here because you knew I’d be here.”
I opened my mouth to speak. Normally, I could process information just fine. This, however, felt like an overload.
“I want you to know something,” he continued. “I want you to know that you’re on the right path. Continue your journey. Look within. You must get still. And when you do, you’ll find the answers. The answers to everything you seek lie within. Never forget that I’m with you. Never forget that you can tap into this energy to understand.”
Was this my dad? The same person who was so gentle to everyone he met? The same person who seemed so wise to me when the world was so big and I was just a small child? He wore the same jeans I remembered him wearing – he used to love those. And a plain white t-shirt. The rain, however, had not touched his clothes. He was dry.
“Look within, Son. You have all the answers. Follow your heart. It will lead you in the right direction every time. And you will know the way.”
I couldn’t finish my thought. A loud, electric crack burst across the sky. The rain stopped as quickly as it had started. I rubbed my eyes in an impatient attempt to wipe away all the water. Blinking rapidly, I refocused where my father stood.
Except now, the figure was gone. I stared at the space he’d occupied. My eyes fell to the surface of the rock where he was standing. I saw two feet-shaped dry spots on the rock where the rain had not gotten the surface wet.
There was so much more I wanted to say. I wanted to feel his embrace just one more time. Somehow, though, I knew what he meant. I’d see him again.