Tag Archives: meditation

Meditation: The Web of Wyrd

I originally received this meditation as a working to do with my coven during our first year together.  I thought I’d share it on my blog.

Cosmic WebClose your eyes.  Breathe in slowly and deeply.  When you lungs are full, hold in the air for just a moment, then allow it to leave your body, exhaling fully.  Then pause and breathe in once again.  Continue this pattern, allowing any tension, negativity, and distraction to leave your mind and body with each breath expelled from your lungs.  Each time you breathe in, draw in light and life and divine blessings.  Allow your body to become filled with these things.

Become aware of fiery red and gold strands of energy that criss-cross all around you and touch you.  These are the strands of wyrd.  See how they support you and make up everything around you.  Appreciate the substance and energy of them.  Study these strands of energy as they flow away from you, connecting to other people in your life.  Family.  Friends.  Coworkers.  These strands are what hold the universe and connect all things together.

Notice how your actions, your choices, affect these strands.  Notice how each choice you make is woven into their web and change the energy that flows through them.  Consider how these changes affect everyone and everything else through their connections to you in this web.  Watch how their choices and changes to the web of wyrd likewise affect you.

After a few moments of studying the web of wyrd and appreciating how it connects you with the rest of the universe, allow the image of the web to fade from your mind’s eye, knowing that it is still there.  Allow yourself to become once again more aware of your body and your present circumstances.  Become more connected to your body as you return to regular consciousness, never forgetting your experience.

My experiences leading meditation

Earlier in the year, I helped to form a fledgeling coven with three other people.  Currently, our coven still consists of the four of us, as we’ve decided to work out more details of the nature and purpose of our coven before we start taking in other members.  But we’ve been meeting for study, discussion, and ritual on a regular basis since June.  It’s been a rewarding experience.

Last night, I had the privilege of leading the others in a short meditation.  I wrote out the basic meditation I developed and used in my last post.  It went well, and the others found the experience moving and refreshing.  We sat around and everyone shared a bit about what they experienced and what insights they gained from the meditation.  I always love that part of a group meditation exercise.

Towards the end of the discussion, Jenna asked me if I went on the meditation when I led it or if I was too busy being the “tour guide.”  I indicated that I didn’t go on the meditation, as I was too busy concentrating on what I was doing leading the group through the exercise.  However, her question did give me a chance and pause to consider what does happen to me when I lead a meditation.  While I didn’t find myself walking along or standing in the river, I wasn’t merely sitting there in a normal state of conscience.

It occurs to me that when I lead a guided meditation like that, I tend to enter into a meditative state of a slightly different sort.  I find myself focused on leading the others.  I find myself focused on the words I’m speaking, choosing them carefully.  (While I usually have a strong sense of where the meditation is going and what I’m going to say, I don’t have a script.)  I find myself feeling out the volume and tone of my voice, the cadence of my words.  I find myself intuitively gauging the rhythm of the overall meditation and the atmosphere of the room.

One of the things I’m always amazed about by this process is that the meditation itself seems to enforce it’s own pauses.  I often find myself about to speak after a pause, to guide the meditation along, only to have find myself not yet able to speak.  It’s as if there’s a gentle force keeping me silent, letting me know that it’s not quite time yet.  Then I get the sense that it’s safe to speak again, that the moment has passed and it’s safe to move on.

I know there are those who are quite adept at leading meditations and can actually make the same journey they are guiding others through at the same time.  At this point, I’m not there.  Maybe some day I’ll operate like that.  But for now, I find myself going to a different place, a place where the process of leading becomes my own meditation.

Meditation: Experiencing the River

McKenzie River white water parade

Image by Oregon State University Archives via Flickr

Close your eyes.  Take several deep breaths, allowing the tension to flow out of your body.  Feel every muscle in your body relax.  Take a moment to make sure you are comfortable.  Reposition yourself if you must.  Breathe.  Allow your focus to draw inward.

See yourself walking through a meadow.  The sky is a clear, beautiful blue.  The sun shines brightly in the sky, and a gentle breeze adds just a hint of comforting coolness to an otherwise warm day.

As you walk along, allow yourself to notice a soft, constant noise in the distance.  As you continue to walk, it slowly becomes louder.  It is the sound of a swiftly moving and turbulent river, the sound of water cascading and crashing against rocks.  Walk towards the source of the sound.  As you get closer, the rushing river comes into view.  You can see the white spray of the water as it crashes against the rocks sticking up from the riverbed.  The foam and eddies of the rapids make a beautiful sight to behold.

Allow yourself to stand beside the river and take in this site.  Notice how the water crashes against the solid rocks, but cannot move them.  It crashes down, and then parts to rush around the obstqacles, leaving a trail of foam and undercurrents as it rushes by.  The water can shape and wear at the earth in its way, but it cannot move it.

Consider the events and aspects of your life that are like this.  Consider those things that crash against you, but cannot move you.  Consider the forces in your life that can shape you and wear at you, but cannot bring you down.  Consider how they must eventually flow around and past you.

After a while, walk alongside the river, headed downstream.  Continue to watch the river and ponder.  Eventually, you get beyond the rapids.  You find yourself walking alongside a much calmer river.  Notice that the water still flows swiftly with a mighty current, but notice that it does so calmly and smoothly.

As you walk, you eventually come to a small path that leads down the riverbank.  You follow it and step into the flowing water.  Wade out into the center of the river.  The current is strong, but your footing is sure.  The water pushes against you, but you remain safely rooted on the firm riverbed.  As you wade into the middle, the water comes up to your waist.  Stand there in the current, allowing it to push against you as the water tries to flow past you.  It exerts a force against you just before it slips around you and flows past you toward the sea.

Consider again those forces and situations in your life that is like the water of this river.  Consider how they press against you, but cannot move you.  Consider how you are immovable, rooted to your foundation.

Feel the riverbed beneath your feet.  Consider its texture and composition.  Consider how it compares to the foundation of your life.  Consider those things that support you through life, that keep you rooted firmly as the waters of life push at you.

After a bit, wade back to the riverbank and climb back up.  Turn one last time to look at and consider the river.  Take a moment to thank the river for this experience and the lessons it offers.  Then turn and walk again towards the center of the meadow.  As you leave the river behind, notice how the sound of the flowing water begins to fade into the distance.  Notice how the sun dries the drops of water that cling to your body.

When you are ready, allow yourself to become increasingly aware of your body and your surroundings.  Feel your toes and fingers.  Wiggle them.   As you come back to conscious awareness and the present moment, open your eyes.