Once, a line in a song by The Whitlams really spoke to me - and it wasn't “by the time she gets to Marrickville we'll be masturbating”, even though that has had increasing significance since coming to Sydney. Rather it is from the song “Make The World Safe”, and refers to life with “plans piling up in the corner”. Certainly the list of things that I have quite seriously planned to do is far more impressive than that which I have actually achieved. Among one of these plans was to learn how to meditate to help me calm down and get real about what is important in life. And just like many other things in this marketing society, there are many quick fixes to get me to calm down and 'be' – from thousand dollar retreats and spa treatments to personal therapists and of course chemical assistance. I have been agnostic and sceptical ever since I was yelled at by a nun for having fun in a Church – God forbid it would seem – so the concept of fate never really enthused me. It still doesn't. But occasionally in this Darwinian world there are coincidences that are seemingly miraculous.
One day I was walking through a shopping centre and had a spare 20 minutes and a spare $10 so I bought a cup of coffee and the premiere issue of Australian Yoga Journal. Stuck to the front with that magnificent magazine adhesive gel stuff was a 35 minutes meditation CD featuring Gillian Ross – a very experienced meditative therapist. Curiosity peaked and then subsided. Indeed the CD was tossed onto the pile of plans along with my 30 day Bikram yoga challenge, ice-skating lessons, a tongue piercing, a tattoo, a holiday to Thailand, flute lessons, piano lessons, gym memberships and an exchange trip to Canada. Apart from the occasional glance at the sound file that I had added to my iTunes, I never thought about it again.
Promptly, my life went a little pear-shaped. Having lived in student accomodation for 2 years I was very ready to move out. So I decided not to renew my contract. Not long after, the rental property that I was approved for was given to another tenant simply because they were friends with the owner. The function centre I worked with who had promised me plenty of work over the holidays was giving me the scant four hour shift every few weeks and my Centrelink had been cut back just in time for my car to need repairs. I really needed to calm down and none of my usual tricks were working, I had no real home, I was living out of bags and money was getting tight.
Another miracle of coincidence occurred when I was asleep. The day after I didn't get another job that I had applied for, nor had I gotten the house I wanted, I got a phone call from an old school mate offering me regular, fun, retail work in a shopping centre in the city. No interview, no questions, just a roster and a promise of a contract in the mail. The plan “get a better job” had suddenly gotten up off the pile of its own accord and made itself happen. The corner of plans is not finite, it seems. That night I flicked past the mediation track.
Homeless still, and my shifts were yet to begin so I was still skint for at least two weeks, I developed some pretty intense insomnia. Waking two to three times a night after taking hours to fall asleep, sometimes I just would not fall asleep at all. I put on music. I flicked past the meditation track.
Visiting my boyfriend at his dad's place, I had some time to kill before he knocked off work. I finally tried the track. After a series of breathing exercises I felt relaxed, but slightly uncomfortable in my back. While focussing on the rise and fall of my chest I jumped at a noise of my boyfriend returning home. I turned off the track and fell asleep. And stayed asleep.
A few days later I couldn't sleep again. So I pulled out my laptop, put on headphones and listened. I focussed, I breathed, I let go. I cried a little. I heard the alert tone on the computer go 'bing' a second before the battery died. Mid-cry, mid-meditation, I scrambled ungracefully across the room to plug in the charger. The track continued with the frustratingly ironic phrase, “remain absolutely still”. I remained still, but images kept popping into my head. Questions about which rental property would suit my needs. Tomorrow is Australia Day, I thought, will places accept calls on the public holiday? Some of the shifts I have are definitely rostered on possible uni days, what will I do? It didn't take long for my over-active mind to poke holes in my confidence. I'll be one of those people that lives on the grace of other people who know how to get things, I'll live in a hovel, never being happy, never making money. I am going to be pushing a stone up hill my whole life and everyone else is so busy with their stones they can't see that mine has been greased so it is that much harder to grip.
Somehow in the midst of all that, a soothing alto wafted the magic words into my consciousness. “The secret to success is perseverance”, said the words.
The dingy room of my consciousness was greeted with the sliver of hopeful light that comes when a thoughtful person cracks a window. Imbued with the words, however cliched, that came at just the right time I managed to really let go. So what if plans are piling up in the corner? That shows hope for the future, a desire to change and develop. So what if your mind is over-active? Those cogs that turn so furiously are a gift, use them. So what if all the times you have tried this meditation you haven't been able to do it 'properly'? Forget 'properly', it's a fiction.
So I will do it tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. With each day I will grow and develop and become myself. Perhaps one day I will be able to do the entire mediation track without interruption.
