The person who wrote a reflection on this line from scripture knew meditation.
The reflection goes like this:
Be still and know that I am God.
Be still and know that I am.
Be still and know.
Be still.
Be.
If we go into prayer with this, leaving a space between each line, we make the journey from God-out-there to God-within-us.
Something about the shortening of each line and the final “Be” brings us to the inner place of contemplation.
Of course, there are many other aids to meditation. Each is designed to facilitate the same journey of awareness.
In stillness, we realise that God is within us.
Some people light a candle or incense, using light or fragrance to achieve stillness.
Others may use music or words like maranatha – come, Lord Jesus.
Also, body awareness can help meditation, deep breathing and muscular relaxation.
Whatever method is used, the aim is stillness, a calmness that settles over us, unwinding physical and mental tension.
When we can achieve that, there comes the ‘knowing’ that can’t be put into words.
I have tried all of the above methods and have always struggled with what I call “head noise,” a busy brain disturbing peaceful intentions.
I see myself as a tree with upper branches full of chattering birds.
I cannot make the head noise go away.
However, I have learned to hear the chatter without engaging with it. Instead, I focus on the stability and stillness of the tree trunk.
That seems to work.
In recent years, age has given me new tools to work with.
One of these could be considered a nuisance. It’s the gap when a word disappears.
When I write, I have access to the words I need, but that is no longer so with speech.
There are holes in the fabric of talk.
Nouns – and especially proper nouns – will disappear and leave me stranded like a fish on dry land.
Not long ago I wanted to tell someone that a good friend, a children’s author, had died. I could not remember my friend’s first name.
There was an embarrassing silence.
The next day it came to me. Her first name was the same as mine. It was Joy.
I know these lapses are common in people my age, but I did not anticipate how they would benefit meditation.
When names disappear there comes a new spiritual awareness of unity.
Naming is necessary for order. Society would not cope without it. Yet the naming of things also tends to separate.
I wonder if that’s the meaning of the Biblical story ‘The Tower of Babel.”
Language divides the oneness of creation.
So what has this to do with meditation?
When a noun drops out of sight, it leaves a little gap through which we see the Oneness of everything.
It’s a Oneness usually cloaked in layers of words, and seeing it is a gift that comes with age.
When we experience it, all we can say to God is “Thank you.”
- Joy Cowley is a wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and retreat facilitator.