“What does it feel like to meditate?” I am often asked by those who find it difficult. 

It is not easy to describe to one who has never experienced it. My Sufi teacher, Adnan, said that it is like trying to describe the sensation of eating a banana to someone who has never eaten a banana.

Of course, the best way to convey the experience of the banana is by providing a banana. The same is true for meditation. That is why I lead a Sufi Meditation session every Friday.

Nevertheless, I would like to share some thoughts that may give you a sense of what meditation feels like and why you would want to do it. 

In his book, The Natural Mind, Andrew Weil, MD reports on the human inclination to seek altered states of consciousness throughout history.

I suspect that all of us have at some time in our lives sought and encountered this sort of experience, not only through drink and drugs but also naturally through profound moments of wonderment and awe from some earthly experience. 

I have this memory of being in school, probably 3rd or 4th grade, staring at the blackboard at the front of the room with a narrow bulletin board above it covered in decorative paper cutouts. I played with the focus of my eyes until the crucifix in the middle of the bulletin board (yes, it was a Catholic school) began to move around while the paper shapes, on either side, changed their form and relationship to one another. I probably did this more than once, maybe multiple times, not yet the dedicated student I would later become. 

Have you ever played around with your visual perception? Changed your focus, and perspective, to see the world in a different way? 

I suspect that this visual shifting is a demonstration of our youthful inclination to discover altered states of consciousness.

Have you ever played “Spin the Statue” as a child? One child swings the others, one at a time, around and around in a circle, and then releases them. The spinners fly off and land in some ridiculous pose on the grass and freeze in place. The first one to move becomes the next to swing the others.

The point of the game was not really who had the best statue poses, or who stayed still the longest but rather the buzzy sensation of dizziness that inevitably evoked peels of childish laughter. 

Did you know that Sufis use whirling, also called spinning, to achieve deep altered states? Whirling involves turning around and around in place for 30 minutes or longer in a room full of other whirling bodies without crashing into one another or falling down. 

Dizziness is held off by softening the focus of the eyes so that the world spins in a stream of colors. It takes concentration and focus not to get dizzy or fall, so the mind is fully occupied throughout. Whirling music increases its tempo until you are turning very quickly and the stream of colors blur. Stopping requires a very gradual slowdown to a complete stop.

Afterward, sitting on the edge of the room, the feeling is very similar to being stoned and unable to move. This blissful state can go on for a while if you stay in place but can quickly dissipate with eating or driving. 

It is not the singular state that is important. Rather, it is the regular practice of meditation over time that yields the desired results.

By doing whirly, chanting, slow movement, and other meditation-evoking practices, particularly within the isolation and continuity of the Sufi camp retreat, powerful changes occur in mind and body.

It becomes easier to achieve meditation and think creatively. It becomes easier to get along with others -- because ego and self-importance diminish. It becomes easier to fall in love with life and not take things so seriously. It becomes easier to see the pattern of existence and savor what is.

But wait, what does meditation feel like?

I can only describe what it feels like to me: 

When I meditate, my thoughts, although not completely gone, become distant or fleeting. It is easy to disengage from them. My focus is on my slow breathing, the movement I am doing, and the sound of the Sufi music or chant or silence.

When there is a pause in the movement, I become aware of my head, particularly my forehead at the place of the third eye. The brain cavity feels as though it is full of soft cotton, comfy like a thick mattress. There is pressure around the temples and a buzz in my sinuses and at the top of my head. It feels soothing and relaxing. I am completely in the moment. There is no past, no future, no worries or concerns. There is only the moment.

Do you stay in the moment all the time? That is not the point. It is about developing a balance between spirit and living in this world. The one feeds the other.

Adnan describes the moment in his book When Life is Lovable and Love is Livable:

“The moment becomes the essence of the eternal dance and life becomes the dance of the moment. The moment becomes the past, the present, and the future. Its secret hidden depth becomes manifested like a beautiful rose, perfumed by eternity and nurtured by the sweet stillness of time. And under the pure light of intelligence, it shows itself in dazzling delight.

“And the moment says, “I am the moment and I am the heart of time. I am the love of the heart of time. I am still and timeless. I am so little and tiny that even the blink of an eye exceeds me and is a giant next to me. Yet I am the foundation of time and the perpetual eternity.”

There’s more. Come to my class tomorrow and I will read the rest of the excerpt. Sufi moving meditation class is Friday, Sept 15 at 8 am PDT.

Zoom Link:

https://us02web.zoom.us/j/89999494833?pwd=V2pOS28yYUdXM3hkaW1rVWIvSjBUdz09

Meeting ID: 899 9949 4833

Passcode: SUFI

8 am PDT is early morning on the West Coast! Here's a time converter link if you need to check the time in your location.

Hope to see you tomorrow,

Michelle

Dr. Michelle Peticolas

Life Transformation Coach

Empowering Women to Reinvent Their Life After Loss

Secrets of Life and Death

https://www.facebook.com/secretsoflifeanddeath.com