As part of my Reiki & Restorative classes on Thursday nights at The Shala, I include a guided meditation. I call many of these meditations Attunements. Here is today’s piece, which I will read tonight as my students drift into relaxation.
You float in a vast sea of air. Swirling eddies, currents and tides all move within you, through you. A deep breath in becomes a wave, frothy edges reaching up the shore until the tide again rolls out. The gentle currents linger over your skin. They sink into the spaces between your fingers. They settle in the strands of your hair. Moving softly, those swirls of the endless ocean trace the surface of your arms, legs, face, then slip away, carrying a memory of you along with them.
They build and strengthen, dancing like the morning mist, unseen hands shaping them into curls and ribbons. Those dreamy shapes pour out into sunlit clearings, gathering the precious dew the night kissed onto leaves and blades of grass. The currents wrap those diamonds of moisture around them like so many strands of pearls, and begin the long journey to carry their offering to the sun.
They gather together, growing in strength. The breeze that tousles your hair as you walk beneath the trees. The invisible fingers that rustle leaves along the path and toy with the pages of your book as you read outside. They journey. Down winding streets and up the back stairs, across the crest of the hills and into the mountains, along the edges of cliffs and the quiet paths beside rivers and streams.
They rise, carrying feathery messengers on the upward currents, tumbling and spinning as they go, lifting their precious cargo ever higher. At last, among the clouds, a great gathering of their brethren. Winds whip the collected moisture into fantastical shapes – cloud castles, drifting feathers, dragons of mist and vapor, faces and forms familiar and not. Memories and pieces of journeys that took the little currents to every corner and cranny. Desert winds, rainforest songs, echoes of stone and culvert, all here gathered.
And then the long descent, holding tight to droplets tumbling toward the earth. Returning, falling, sinking. To once again become a gentle breeze, a pattern of ripples in a lake, or a deep breath. The ocean of air moving around you, within you, breathing you. And remembering.