Hill stations and sidings…
There are many meditation techniques, and so many misconceptions too. And why wouldn’t there be? Have you seen the internet? Every week another technique pops up, with the promise of something or other: inner peace; world peace; new you; new trousers. Maybe not the last one.
So which technique to choose? There is no right answer. Choose the one you feel most comfortable with maybe, the one you think you might stick with. Or maybe decide what you want to achieve most? What’s the destination?
That said, don’t expect it to be straight line sort of a thing.
A meditation technique is like a ticket bought at the railway station on holiday. You know where you want to get to, you think, and so you hand over your hard earned cash. And then. And then somewhere between the ticket window and the platform something happens. Whilst some of the stops appear on the screens that scroll above you, you can’t find your destination anymore.
As you walk across the station concourse, you stop to ask a few people, just to be sure. “Does this train go to the sea?”, you say as you show them your ticket. Some look blankly between you and the ticket as you try to make yourself understood, and others just keep on walking, almost hurrying away, or so it seems. Maybe one or two smile kindly, saying nothing. Something remembered perhaps. You reassure yourself: even though you have your ticket, you don’t have to take the train. You could go back to the hotel and maybe tomorrow you could go and see the sights with everyone else. After all, that was why you came wasn’t it?
You start to look for the platform, brushing shoulders with locals and travellers from all over the world as they jog by on their way to who knows where. Then you see people climbing aboard a train. There is something about these people you seem to recognise although they are far from being similar or alike. They appear to be every type of person. From every place, every time of life. Privilege and no privilege. All the same, they clamber aboard with slick roller cases and awkward backpacks and all manner of makeshift baggage in between. Where are they going, you wonder briefly? Still, they look harmless enough. Mostly. And there are some you can see who might even be a bit like you, so you say to yourself: “Ok, I can go a couple of stops; have a bit of an adventure. Not far. Just to see something else. And then I can go back to the hotel, to the pool…”. So you step up and take your seat, and the journey to the place you don’t know anymore for a reason you can’t seem to articulate begins.
You see, it’s all a bit of a mystery this meditation business; no one really knows how it's going to turn out. And you, well you’re the greatest mystery of all. It's all rather wonderful isn’t it?
