The 11-year-old boy misses the shot on the basketball court and the coach takes him out of the game, benching him in full view of family and friends who came to watch the group of youngsters play Thursday.
“He was crushed,” Marianne, the boy’s mother tells her meditation group later. “I could see it, and my heart went out to him.”
Looking across the court, Marianne said her own heart was breaking, wishing she could go to the boy and offer encouragement, hope. She did the next best thing then. She sent to him some “thing” which someone later described as “Divine Love.”
Somehow, Marianne “tapped into” what I call a “stream” of pure, unadulterated love, and directed it to her fifth grader, who was seated on the bench, watching his schoolmates compete in the game without him. All of her attention focused on her son. Wave after wave of love poured from the mother to the boy as everyone else in the school gymnasium seemed to disappear, and Marianne’s two years of practicing meditation with love and compassion appeared to work its magic.
“I noticed that he felt something” she said. “He moved his head from one side to the other, as I watched him.”
All of a sudden, the boy appeared to relax and be more comfortable, and his mother was so grateful for this “meta” love, that she shared this story with others meditating at the Resiliency Center, Ambler, PA, for a bi-weekly session of the Philadelphia area Meet-up Group. Marianne, like me, is a new-comer here. She suggested that something difficult to explain may have occurred at the school. Some of us believe that love, totally unconditional with absolutely no reciprocity attached, comforted the youngster and helped to relieve his apparent suffering.
“I felt ‘energy’ pass through me,” Marty, told the group, sharing his own experience following a 20-minute silent meditation session. Like most of us, he sat on the floor in a half lotus position, back supported by a “halfchair,” with one hand toward the floor, the other palm-up, resting on his lap.
“I felt it (energy) start from here,” Marty said, touching the carpeted floor, “and extend to the other side.” He added the “energy” passed through his up-turned right hand. “Into the universe?” I asked. “Yes,” he answered.
“To the Cosmos?”
I told Marty that I did not want to “put words into your mouth,” — something I plead guilty of doing for 20 years as a “cross-examining” trial attorney — but I “knew” what he had just felt as a result of meditating. I have experienced that flow of energy while meditating, and described it the same way. This time, however, it was different.
Dean, the dedicated meditation leader, had requested the small group of 10 adopt the “pose” of the Buddha, that is, to place one hand onto the floor for grounding, and the other upraised for “inspiration.” Most followed suit, warming themselves beneath covers or woolen “throws” draped over ourselves, warding off any chill from the February cold.
I told the group that I had felt a “rock” beneath me. A solid mass of the Earth in all of its strength and durability. Meditating on this, the rock took on a timeless shape. It became the Earth that the Buddha sat on and became enlightened. For a brief moment, I became “Buddha-like,” as I touched a “void” of calmness and peace. It was impossible to describe in detail, because it was as solid as an unmovable bulk, yet as light as feather.
I felt energized. But, also “anchored.”
And now, less than 12 hours later, I can say that that I have found a new port in which to dock, replenish my Self, and sail upward and onward. Ain’t meditation grand?