I have a big Tarot event tonight, with thirty people expected to attend. It's not the first such event I've done, but I get nervous every time. Once it actually starts, I'm fine, but beforehand -- it's tough to shake the jitters.
I completely understand why some Hollywood stars throw up before they step on set. But I hate vomiting, so instead I'm doing what I usually do when things start to feel overwhelming: slowing down. There is a lot of comfort that comes to the soul simply from the act of dawdling, relaxing, and taking one's time. This is truly a lost art.
People raised in warmer climates are apparently better at relaxing than New Englanders are. I think it's part of why we love to visit the tropics. People there seem unafraid to take siestas or lounge on the porch enjoying the sunshine. When I travel to places like this, the sweet nectar of life drips blissfully through my veins.
At home, our society moves at unnatural speed. And I love plugging into that mind-race, watching MSNBC with the scroll running across the top and bottom of the screen, guzzling down four caffeinated sodas in a row while I type, driving eighty miles per hour down the highway with the iPod pumping.
The speed is exhilarating. It's a high. But it does rattle us, and many people struggle because they can't slow down, even when the speed becomes painful.
Science says that our bodies are mostly water. In the Tarot, water symbolizes emotions and the heart. Like water, if we are going to be calm and clear, we need to be able to move slowly and gently. Otherwise we'll find ourselves whipped into a murky emotional froth. A lot of energy gets wasted this way and, like too much of anything, it can get very uncomfortable.
As any doctor or Buddhist teacher will tell you, meditation is one of the best ways of slowing down your body and mind. But when I first started to meditate, I felt like I was suffocating. I got a stomachache from trying to breathe the "right" way, and a headache from trying not to think. Who the hell would want to do that again?
Eastern-style meditation can still feel like an austere discipline -- I think it may not have translated all that well into our everyday culture. As a Westerner, it can take time to "get it." But the effort pays off.
Here's a short cut: don't meditate, luxuriate. This can be done anywhere -- you don't necessarily need a cushion and a statue of the Buddha. Just stretch. Slow down. Sink into your surroundings. Appreciate the vivid colors around you, the chirping of the birds outside the window. Breathe deeply and gently, and relax. If you are doing anything, do it slowly and feast on your senses and your slow breath. When you do this, you will feel truly alive than at any other time.
I'm no expert in meditation, but at least I'm getting better at luxuriating. It helps a lot.
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