In my morning meditation, I begin with a prayer, first of gratitude—a thanksgiving for life and all that has been given to me—and then I ask for healing, for myself and for everyone who has asked me to include them on my healing energy prayer list. Then I ask for healing for our world and all who inhabit Earth. I give thanks for my perfect healing and the perfect healing of each person as I speak his or her name aloud. Then I give thanks for the healing of the anger and fear that is hurting the country I live in and all who inhabit Earth.
After my prayer, I begin a healing chant. A deep breath in, and on the out breath, in a voice so full it reverberates through my every cell and out into the universe, an Ohm. I chant until the chant is chanting me, and my body as I know it disappears as I become a thousand tiny dots of lights, spiraling and dancing and moving about. Rearranging energy, realigning cells in a healthy pattern—healing.
I feel my breath moving in and out of my body and beyond and I become aware of these pin points of light moving and intermingling with all those whose names I have spoken and somewhere within me I know, I know the Divine Light that I am heals all as I heal and touch all that is our world as the Divine Light of God permeates and passes through me to all sentient beings and into our world and out from our planet into the universe.
I continue to sit in stillness, watching this exchange of energy as these tiny specks of light move into me and through me and back out into the world. And then, without movement of my physical body, I see my forehead, at the sixth charka, the third eye, move into the flame of the candle that sits flickering on the altar in front of me. My entire body becomes part of the flame that becomes a light of dancing colors that move through the world of dancing, colorful light that is full of voice and music.
And then there is silence, a deep profound silence that echoes back on itself and I—I, the person, the one of tiny balls of light, the one of flame and light and voice and music, the one who prays and feels gratitude, the I that I am—ceases to exist.
I am the wind within stone—silent, without words or thoughts . . . or being. The I in I am is no longer. I am has become just am until even that disappears and there is . . . nothing . . . and in that nothingness there is everything . . . And then the silence as quiet as the wind within stone becomes the wind itself and I am transported by and transformed into the wind itself as I move without time or space into the I AM of all that is throughout eternity.
Then once again I become the I that I am.
My eyes open and I am born anew into this world I inhabit, this world in which I live and move and have my being, this world in which I speak and laugh and weep and sing. This world in which I love. And I am oh so grateful that I have left the known to travel the unknown that I might return to the known, rested, cleansed, prepared. And the day has begun.