Or should I say, Maine-itation? 😆
WARNING: Though it sounds (and looks!) too good to be true, the writing below is dead serious. There aren’t any jokes. I’m sorry. HOWEVER, there is a bonus feature at the end, where you can hear me reading this as a guided meditation. My voice does not naturally sound that way, and I am pretty sure no one speaks this way in their daily life. Unless they read guided meditations for a living. To which I ask, why? Maybe this is why I avoid guided meditations. They creep me out!
Here’s an example of what I mean by this voice (not mine, that’s at the end).
I won’t be offended if you skip reading the script and go straight to the video recording of it at the bottom of the page, not unlike those recipe blogs. I mean, you just want to get to the recipe! You don’t want to read about how the chef spent their whole week, or whatever. (I wouldn’t know what they are saying, I just scroll right to the recipe.)
Close your eyes. Breathe slowly and deeply. Imagine that you have just arrived at a wondrous location where there is a meadow with fruitful trees. A forest filled with mushrooms.
Along the trails, you find hidden art in unexpected places.
There is a beautiful field of purple lupines that brings to mind your favorite childhood book, Miss Rumphius. The lupines surround a pond. This is where you will hear peepers peeping:
When the sun sets, your spirits are lifted by lightning bugs. These insects reflect the stars above you. They are so bright that you wonder if you are dreaming, and are now in space. You have never seen so many lightning bugs. You have never seen the stars like this before. The milky way is visible to your bare eyes.
There is a long path leading to a beach. But nobody flocks to this one except for the people you will grow to love in a week’s time.
Up until now, you have only “met” these people in a digital world. Until now you could only imagine what they would be like. They write books. They are role models. Artists. They teach with compassion. Most of them are like you, here to learn, wondering what is in store.
Everyone here cares deeply about animals. The environment, Social justice. You are finally face to face with those who’ve you been longing to meet . In just about 5 days, you will not only know what they are like, but you will be surprised by how deeply you love and care for them.
Most of you share a large cabin filled with warm blankets and sleep in bunk beds. There are comfy chairs and even the bathroom provides inspiration.
It might be uncomfortable for you to sleep in a room full of people every night. You keep waking up at the same time every morning. 4:35. On the fourth day, you grab your flashlight and walk towards the path to the beach. At dawn, walking through the wilderness, you feel alone and vulnerable, yet you are safe.
Arriving at the beach, you wait to see what is in store for you. There it is! The sun begins to slowly rise through the sky, painting a pastel palette like an impressionist painting (Monet comes to my mind).
Though this place is the happy place we often dream of, you still sadly cry sometimes. But you also cry out of joy, realizing your true self-someone you have not spent much time with before. When it all feels like too much, you take time to reflect and relax in a hammock. You LOVE hammocks. You are mesmerized, swaying between the trees, the sun beating down on you, enlivening you. You embrace your inner child when your deep emotions get the best of you, by imagining you are a tree. You are grounded, from your root to your branches.
You climb mountains with your peers, literally and figuratively. They give you presents in the form of lessons and speeches. You find out what is most important to them. You know what is most important to you. When it is time for you to share your gifts, you are nervous, but ask for the support you need. It is freely given to you. Despite having a shaky voice, you speak calmly and patiently about transforming grief into love and inspiration.
In your conversations, you have been talking a lot about how you want to make people laugh. So you gather around the table in the cabin one night, and deliver that laughter. The laughter continues to reverberate even after you leave.
Throughout this experience, you have become one with your surroundings, nature, people, and animals. Every day you have sat in the same place, for a while, looking at the same purple lupine with great attention. You are opening yourself to witnessing the smallest, yet most profound developments in real time. You never knew that simply staring at a plant for so long could connect you to so much. A beating drum off in the distance calls you back to more experiences and opportunities to learn and grow.
The sound of that beating drum will bring you back here. Mentally, and even physically. This is one time in your life that you will never forget. However, you can come back here, any time you want.
Give yourself some time to become adjusted to your present surroundings. Take a few breaths. Your normal life might seem different now. Savor the time you had in such a magical place. Be grateful for the time you spent here.
Whenever you miss this place, spend time in nature for as long as you can. Be present. Remember who you really are, deep within your soul. Share laughs with strangers, and friends. Remind yourself that any grief, sadness, or despair you feel can and should be felt, but know that it can be transformed into a force for goodness and change.
!!! Here is the Recording of this post, read by me in my best fake calming and weirdly seductive sounding meditation voice. There is even a slideshow with bonus pictures!
You may find it hilarious or helpful, who knows?!
Comment to tell me which it was.
This meditation was inspired by my Master’s Residency, in Surry, Maine where I shared five amazing days at Zoe Weil’s home, with my instructors and fellow students from the Institute for Humane Education (IHE).
I now have a tattoo inspired by a photo I took during residency, when my friends and I climbed a mountain at Acadia National Park (called Bubble Rock), in honor of this experience. I came back to this part of Maine with my boyfriend Ryan after graduating a few years later. The trip was my graduation present to myself.
Part 4 (the finale) of my blog’s “dead-ication,” is coming up next. You can see part 1, part 2, and part 3 respectively, by clicking these links. Or you can wait for the extra “Cliffnotes Edition” of Magick Brouhahaha’s Dead-ication,” to follow.