Meditative Realities

Lying in bed after a long, busy day, meditation was generally needed. I would position myself on my back as a plank, palms faced upright, and relax. White light, protection, readying my meditation.

How I began meditations before was to imagine myself in a forest. Forcing myself to feel the leaves rustling and bursting into fragments underneath my feet and between my toes. Looking out among the trees, an endless, open forest awaited to be discovered. Not a lot of time was spent there. Once I was done with the forest, I moved to the beach instantly.
A long, crescent, sandy beach would stretch out to the horizon on either side. Wrapping around to disappear among the trees that bordered the sand. I would imagine myself sitting at the beach front and contemplate. While there, I would make sure I felt the sand that bound itself to me. The salty breeze that seemed never-ending. And once in a while, when I would allow it, the water that made its way up the beach and puddle around my feet. Once I was ready for new scenery, I would change it. The last, and most memorable spot of meditation, was the field.
I always appeared on a hill side across from the main attraction. In a groove in the land, surrounded by hills all of the same size, stood a lone tree. A very large tree. Its roots one with the earth, none straying from perfection. The bark was rough to the eyes, but gentle to touch. It resembled an oak tree with a longer trunk. Beside the tree was a marble bench. Fit for two. After admiring the tree for a few minutes, I would take a seat. Once again, I’d make sure I felt the cool marble beneath my flesh. With a few more minutes here, breathing deeply, I would wake myself from the meditation. At times, I would feel better. It was very calming.

That is how I use to meditate.

I have found a quicker way to achieve the calming state of mind.

One night, lying to rest, I decided to meditate. The meditation from before had changed drastically. The set up was the same. Straight posture, palms upright, deep breathing. When I felt ready, I dove into my mind, asking questions about life as I went. I imagined my spiritual mind as layers; similar to a jaw breaker, with its many colors as the different levels. A soft flutter of light revealed the deep blue of the ground before and underneath me. Everything behind was black. No light touched that surface. The building itself was similar to a dome. Clearing my mind of everything, I walked to the first door. With a deep breath, hand on the knob, I opened the door. A burst of dull light shone through, then I was in the first room. The door swiftly shut behind me. In the first room, the light was dim. The room, as the exterior of the construct, was domed. It circled around on itself. I could walk down the path to the left or right and come back to where I stood. Another door was directly across the room on the other wall. I did the same. Another flash, even brighter.
I was in a room similar to the one before, except the light in the space was brighter. A calming sensation touched across my skin. I spent more time here than the previous room, standing halfway between both doors, exercising deep breathing techniques. Once again, a turned knob, a white flash, another room.
The flash was much brighter, as was the room. The room looked, but did not feel, like a hospital room. Similar to those which are in horror films where everything is white, a very bright white. Nothing there. The floor, the walls, the ceiling; white. And you; alone. The door facing me from across the room was much different. Every other door was white with a bronze knob; very generic. This door was nothing like that. It was layered. A light brown slab, made of fragile material, was covered and protected by a metal design. The design resembled a tattoo artist’s rendition of flowers. The protective layer was gold. It resembled a gate wrapped over a door. Looking behind me, the door I came through had also changed. It was the same as the gold door, but the fragile material was a deep blue. The protective layer was silver. Deciding to move forward, rather than back the way I came, I faced the gold door. Instead of placing one hand on the knob, I laid both on the face of the door. Repeating the questions from before, my forehead met the same fate as my open hands.

My meditative reality altered. Unusual feelings flooded my mind.

I jumped from a diving board directly into the liquid of my being. I was swimming. I could breathe, and I was swimming.
Euphoria.
Voices. Voices were heard from deep within.

Listen, listen.
. . . Listen.

WH-HAAM!

A door across the hall slugged full force against the frame. I awoke, startled. I sat upright facing the direction of the noise. No follow up sound was made. Nudging the coincidence aside, I discontinued my meditation and fell asleep.

The next morning, I approached my roommates with a question. “Did anyone hear a door slam last night?”
They looked at each other, then back at me, puzzled.
“What slam?”

Listen.

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