Near Magical

Near magical:

morning meditation is a near magical time for me, a stillness that steeps all the way to bones and continues hours after walking from the cushion. It’s a true sense of quietness, allowing of earliest sounds, yet everything somehow muted, hushed as if in deference to the hour. I sit for close to an hour each morning, as close to 4:00 a.m as possible, mantra playing softly through my mind, with only an occasional thought making brief appearance. It’s near magical because it’s nothing really special, just quiet, but truly so, deeply, and I find myself at home within its hold.

every morning.

of course I meditate in later hours too, an afternoon return to silence, touching home once more. But in someways it doesn’t feel as if it matches the depth and quality of my morning sitting, the world itself doesn’t hold the same quiet structure that seems to allow only the essential sounds of waking to show through. I still love my time sitting later in the day, and often do find that the world fades to an undisturbed silence, sounds only existing on a surface level far from where my mind resides. It’s near magical too, in it’s own way, and it’s unfair for me to make these comparisons.

and yet, it seems that as I sit for longer periods of time, going deeper within, I’ve become somewhat of a connoisseur of these silent hours, not judging quality…