Achieving spiritual guidance through meditation.
Yesterday morning I continued to find that beautiful, deeply peaceful place I can only inadequately describe as the source of consciousness inside. A relaxed, sweetly blissful, deeply silent space that is more spacious than space. I was able to spend the better part of an hour there. The rest of the day was so filled with graceful ease.
During a session with a client, I was aware of a different level of guidance. I usually feel guidance orchestrating the session. But yesterday it came from such a serene, relaxed, peaceful kind of knowing. The room around the two of us was filled with a diffuse white lightness. The client and I seemed so relaxed and she had some amazing deep insights. I was able to reflect back to her with a gentle profound clarity that seemed to awaken a new level of self-confidence and self-esteem in her.
There was a deep relaxed calm throughout the day, despite several unexpected events. Reflecting on it, I remembered having read somewhere that David R. Hawkins meditated an hour each morning and each evening for twenty years before he was spontaneously enlightened. Since I believe that the experience I had was meditation, I decided to do it for an hour morning and night. Last night, I was tired and managed 45 minutes of something. I thought was close.
This morning I had some moments of the experience, but it was being interrupted by thinkingness, more than it had been. I kept trying to focus back to the source of consciousness. Then an insight came. My spiritual ego was strategizing. It had taken over with its plan to accomplish an outcome like yesterday's experience and to take charge of my spiritual evolution.
The spiritual ego had subtlety become the "doer". This humbling realization struck home. The humility I felt was so refreshing, so sweet, as I dropped into it. Once again, the deep, inner silence and its sweet bliss came back instantly, effortlessly. I was about to say, there was gratitude. After all, that is the seasonal theme.
But no there wasn't. What was didn't have the distinction of a me being grateful to another. It just was a deep, vast, silent, sweetness, as close as words can tell.
This article was originally published at http://lightcoach.com/. Reprinted with permission from the author.