Beginner's Luck:Day Thirteen

Today I had my second session with my guru, Lee.  She is a gentle master of guided meditation.  Deep diaphragmatic breaths, focused relaxation of limbs and muscles, then visualization of the organs of my body starting with the flux of blood through my heart and ending with the squishy shifts in the geometry of my brain.  We focused on the spine and its flexibility, a perfect metaphor for something important I cannot quite recall. It is easy to be in Lee's presence.  There is a sensible and subtle loveliness about her: naturally neat curls, clear eyes and a stately appearance as she sits straight backed on the couch in her living room.  Lee was a high school teacher in a large urban school system and she has the chops that go with that:  the structural building block skills that have always eluded me, not to mention instructive handouts.

She was eager to hear about my practice and delighted to know I managed to meditate every day since we first met.  She is here, she told me, to support my practice and for me to support her in her practice.  Lee explained that part of what one can accomplish through meditation is to learn to be one's own best friend.  To give  yourself the support and love and even the boundaries you give to a girlfriend.  I have a best friend.  We forgive each other  for what we cannot forgive ourselves.  The idea that I can do this for me is power.

I told Lee about the wonderful night's sleep I had after the first time I meditated.  The restful sleep has not returned and I'm disappointed about that. Beginners' luck?  Lee told me the first time she ever went bowling, she scored 175.  That was her all time high.  That was before she understood how difficult it was for a woman to bowl a 175.  What can we accomplish when we are not dictated to by our failures?   One of Lee's students played the best game of tennis she had ever played after meditating for the first time.  She could play the game she could play in the moment without the clutter of past misses and clumsy hits.

I am in awe of the power of the silence.  Shhhh.