The Necessity of Cocooning

Do you ever have that feeling that the universe wants you to take some time off from focusing on the external world? Either there is less pull from the outside world for you to participate or you feel a drawing inward, a need to turn your attention to that still, small voice within.

Like a fall leaf curling in on itself, I find myself cocooning more in the winter months - and the outside world seems to reflect that intent. Falling snow silences the noises of the busy street. Darkness comes earlier each day, inviting me to cease my daytime activities and grow introspective.

I prefer to finish my Christmas preparations early in December, because the latter half of the month always requires of me a stock-taking for the coming year. I want to give myself that time to take care of any loose ends in the office, clearing away old paperwork to make for a fresh start in January. More importantly though, I want to sit quietly, with the snow muffling the world outside, with the dogs sleeping at my feet, with the darkness prodding me inward to listen to the voice I've been too busy to heed. It reminds me of who I am and my purpose on the planet. It gives me my footing so I know come January what my next step should be.

In the new year, I will venture outward again, each day growing brighter with the increasing daylight, my sense of purpose and the energy to activate it gaining with the change of season. Gradually, I will shuck my cocoon, more sure of myself and my goals, moving with the promise of fulfillment that always comes with the spring.

Searching the Shadow

It's 2:30 a.m. and I've finished a thorough housecleaning I felt inspired to begin at midnight. The need for order overwhelmed me. Tidying up was also a vain attempt to sweep away thoughts that arise in the wee hours, that time when the world is quiet and we have no distraction from our shadow self.

It's then that it's most tempting to dissolve into sleep, ignoring the unfinished business of the psyche. Yet, this uninterrupted period is when we can best confront what we wish to ignore about ourselves: our pettiness, our inconsistencies, our fears and reactive indulgences. Honesty reigns when there is no one to rescue us from ourselves.

Take time on occasion to embrace the hours after midnight, to sit with your demons and discover the treasure beneath the dross of the human mind. Beneath the bullshit we feed ourselves to prop up our egos, there lies pure truth. Within, we find the Observer who never thinks to wear the tired costume of identity, role, and plot. The Observer simply is, with no need to impress or further one's aims. If you can forget the ego for a moment and dwell in the Observer, I guarantee you will find a simple sense of peace, a recognition that all is as it should be, a connection to the benevolence that permeates everything.

It's only when we stop running away from our shadow and sit with it until it dissolves that we know ourselves to be the Observer, that we know peace.

The Existential Garden Path

Meditation is like walking down a garden path. At first, the path barely exists, and it's easy to get lost among the trees or distracted by flowers and birds. On occasion, you get caught on the thorns and spend a great deal of time trying to extricate yourself from entanglements of the mind.

Eventually, with practice, the path is established through use. It becomes easier to find one's way to the source. There comes a time when moments after sitting, one drops into that sought after state, not because it is sought, but because it is there - awaiting your presence.

The effortless effort has occurred. What else is there to do, but be?