» Self-Realization: There’s an app for that

Simply Serenity

Inspiration for inner peace and love by Lauralyn, a yoga and angel therapist.

Self-Realization: There’s an app for that

September 27th, 2011

My friend told me about this iPhone app called Insight Timer. It’s pretty cool. You can see who’s meditating around the world. Like right now, it’s almost 11 p.m. EST and Joe in Mexico is meditating for 24 minutes. Chris in Utah is meditating for 40 minutes. Stephanie in Canada is meditating for 10 minutes. Jon in Portland is meditating for 20 minutes. Chris in New York City is meditating for 60, and so is Gary in Seattle.

I just shared my first meditation with Insight Timer tonight. I set the timer for 10 minutes. It followed a beautiful realization: I don’t need to be Buddha. I’m not a monk. I’m not a nun. I’m not a super strict and insanely disciplined person. I’m me. And my meditation belongs to me.

With this realization, I felt incredibly psyched. Here I am, a certified meditation teacher with over a decade of meditation experience and even produced my own meditation album. But it wasn’t until this moment that I realized, while some days I may enjoy scented candles and relaxing music, other days I don’t need anything other than myself to enjoy my practice.

It was one of those bummer days when I’m longing to break free of the depressed town I’m temporarily living in, and was feeling suffocated by the limitations here. I rented the musical, Guys and Dolls, starring Frank Sinatra and Marlon Brando to perk me up. It worked. Instantly, I felt a smile return to my face and my insides grew warm and giddy. As I began to feel tired, I turned the TV off and glanced at my iPhone. Should I check emails? Facebook? Draw myself an angel card – yes, there’s an app for that, too.

I flipped through to the Insight Timer icon and tapped it. How easy is it for me to meditate, right here on the couch? Cuddled under the blanket with the dog nestled beside me. The apartment is quiet. It’s late. Everyone is asleep. I have the space to myself. It doesn’t matter that a candle isn’t lit. It doesn’t matter that incense isn’t burning. It doesn’t matter that I’m sitting on an Ikea couch instead of a Zafu or yoga brick. It doesn’t matter that there’s an LG flat screen in front of me instead of an adorned alter.

I’m in my living room. It’s bedtime. And I want to meditate. I want to experience the bliss of tuning in, even if just for a moment.

So I set the Insight Timer for 10 minutes and joined other people around the world who were also meditating. I closed my eyes and brought my thumb and first finger together and placed them on my lap. I noticed my breath. My soul was so grateful for the time, I felt as if my mind had been temporarily removed and planted next to a tree. My skull felt free of thoughts, free of pressure. The space inside my skull felt beautifully empty, as if all the analytical thoughts, the frustrated thoughts, the fearful thoughts, had just emptied themselves out and I was left with a clear, blank state. It felt as if there was a cave in my head, peaceful and quiet. My entire body began to feel a deep sense of peace. I felt like I was nothing….and everything. I felt connected to the molecules in the air, the couch, the room, the world. I felt oneness. It felt liberating. I felt unlimited.

Then the thoughts started rolling in. Some images invaded my mind. I noticed and detached, sent them away. If I dismiss an image or thought instead of giving it energy, it disappears. Some thoughts were more persistent. They were positive, excited, to-do thoughts. Inspiration coming in because my mind was quiet and receptive. But tonight, I wanted to just be. So I let those thoughts go, too.

I found myself on a boat. I thought how if you sit in meditation and throw a rod out, you’re going to pull in some thoughts. You’ll reel them in and they’ll flop all over your mind, splashing you with all sorts of emotions. But instead of standing at the edge of the boat casting a fishing rod out to the vast sea, waiting to catch something, why not sit with your eyes closed, and just notice what the sea air feels like traveling up your nose? With your body relaxed, gently swaying with the boat, why not notice what the warmth of the sun feels like as it beams on your shoulders?

Clients have asked me how do you hear the divine in meditation? How do you receive inspiration and other worldly contact? I always say, you’ve just got to be receptive. It’s hard to get at first because we live in a world where we’re constantly giving out energy. But meditation is like a day at the beach. You just soak it all in. Before you know it, in this peaceful and quiet place, you may hear the passing of a seagull. And in time, maybe you will even hear precious guidance from a divine source.

But for me, meditation is not a goal, it’s a habit like brushing your teeth. It’s not something I do to get some grand prize out of it, like talking to Jesus. Though I admit, sometimes that’s happened. But many times, it’s as divinely simple as tonight, when I was just a girl on a couch who had a blah day and needed to plug in to that higher state of existence that subtly reminds me in an ever so gentle way just how wonderful life is. And just how perfect my soul is, even when it feels flawed and impatient. Who I am is so much more than what my eyes may see on any given day. Meditation reminds me of that, and how close God is within me. The Insight Timer app showed He’s all around the world, sharing quality time with every gorgeous soul who takes the time to tune in. Even if for only 10 minutes.

I feel incredibly peaceful. And centered. And blessed. And loved. And I’m psyched that I’ve made my meditation time mine – I can do it anytime I want, wherever I want. I can meditate in the bath. I can meditate at a bus stop, or a coffee shop. There are no rules. No right way. It’s a practice, and just like a physical exercise, once you start, you’ll feel so much better after, you’ll find yourself doing it again. And again.

Get the Insight Timer app on iTunes and meditate with me!

www.heavenhealingarts.com

Digg Digg