Time. And Again.

Insight Timer. A friend sent that my way and I return to it in each time of need. Even if that return is fraught with the memory of imploring myself to return each day, not only each desperation. Still, I return in my own time.

Acceptance. Another thing I return to. Maybe rarely by choice. Always find myself here, wishing I wasn’t. Emotional mind declaring I’ll never return; rational mind drawing up the plans. Still, I find myself back here time and again.

Meditation and acceptance are hard for my mind. It’s so swift, turbulent. Breaking channels and flooding its banks. Insight Timer finds me a guide. My guide brings my consciousness life-rafts, guided meditations are paddles in the whitewash. When times are desperate and derelict, survival depends on a well-timed guide to make it through the mind’s most frightening rapids.

My guide today took me through a visual trip—down a lane, through a gate, to a meadow, through a woodland, into a clearing. Along the way, my guide told me to unload my heavy bag of rocks. To place them one-by-one into a receptacle for relief. Each rock I imagined was labeled and painted according to its meaning to me. I imagined the weight of those stony memorials to pain and loss; all disarmingly small, but astonishingly heavy. I accepted what they meant to me. The dark colors and scary labels. Their cold, hard, rough surfaces. I held each one—placed it and then sent it away. Deliberate release. While the stain of memories remains, the weight on my mind was momentarily gone. I imagined it. Told my brain what it looked and felt like. Knowing my brain’s wiring—my brain saw what I told it to see and my brain felt what I told it to feel.

I walked each step my guide proffered. Invoking the sunlight playing through leaves. Noticing the sprinkles of flower that dot the path, decorating all the deep green. Sensing the clean and cool of air that was cleaner and cooler than the actual air being inhaled. Each exhale, as my guide lead, I reached calm release. I arrived at the time to memorialize my calm, to make memorial to its existence.

I envisioned my small edifice of Peace. Made of smooth, cool veiny quartz, rose-colored, heart-shaped. I chose a site for its small sanctuary on the side of my mind’s banks. A sandcastle of calm and peace. Placement that acknowledges impermanence. Construction that commits to recreation.  

I will return often to this small shrine. I will come with my guide. I will leave my weights. I will dig out my Peace. I will rebuild its seat. Time. And again.