The real power of meditation

I love this quote from Georges Bataille: Mere words have something of quicksand about them. Only experience is the rope that is thrown to us.

How many times do I find that a set of words that inspire me are forgotten down the road. Words gain power with experience, and "experience" starts with meditation.

Meditation has become popular in our time. Yet, for me, the real power of meditation comes through an atmosphere of silence.

A visit to a monastery recently brought this truth home to me. As I sat in my room reading, I physically relished the silence that enveloped me. The silence permeated the atmosphere, pregnant with self-discover, Presence, and mystery.  As I sat there, I thought, "Why do I not have this in my life?"

The truth is, though I love silence, I have allowed the noise of music or TV to invade my life, with cell phone conversations and social networking distracting me. I have let myself be duped.

Silence is to meditation what yeast is to flour. It breaks through languid thought and brings mere words to profound understanding.  It does this because it puts the breaks on the incessant flow of thoughts that come careening through our brains. It allows us to be still and quiet before the Divine Being.

In the day and age of multitasking, meditation will not work until we capture the atmosphere of silence, and find a way to integrate it into our lives.

And so, I start again. I bring silence back with me, and make it a solid part of my life.

Making a Quiet Corner

Reading through the gospel for Ash Wednesday, I was struck by a recurring theme. It was not repentance, though that is what we usually think of at the start of Lent. It was the repeated sentence: "And your Father who sees in secret will repay you." (Mt 6:4)

The sentence reminds us of what is important, the inside. This is an interesting twist, as Ash Wednesday usually draws large numbers who are eager and intent on receiving those coveted ashes. I sometimes wonder, what do people expect from those ashes? Salvation? Or perhaps they are trying to remember that life has another side, a spiritual side. But remembering is not enough.

Externals can give only so much comfort and grace.  Ashes, like all sacramental, are merely outward signs. The intention of outward signs is to remind us of eternal truths. To profit from those truths, we must make them real for ourselves.

I suggest that this lent, let us take the externals like fasting, sacrifices, and extra prayers, and turn them inside by concentrating on our being, on our intentions. Let us not be content with ashes. Let us step into more silence and meditation. Let us make for ourselves a quiet corner this Lent, one where we can sit in secret and think about God. One where we transform eternal truths into our very being. Then, we can discover just what the God who sees in secret will give us as reward. I suspect it is probably the Divine Being himself.