A Meditation on Meditation (or lack thereof)

A number of thoughts converged today painting an inviting yet repelling picture of self— yeah, me. I guess they have been swirling for some time, sourced by different influences and, like everything I ever write or think, they aren’t new or groundbreaking. Every theologian is a thief.

Instead of rambling on about the times and places in which the various detected influences emerged today, I’ll just list some sound bytes in chronological order from my internal, sometimes prayerful, dialogue which are shaping the picture I’m beginning to make out…

“…Meditate in your heart upon your bed, and be still. Selah” ~ Psalm 4.4

“I love these quiet, early Saturday mornings; they are so peaceful, so full of potential…that often goes untapped.”

Oscillating between reading Psalm 4 and staring at my son, I realize that both are important and have trouble dividing the time (something I anticipate will become much more difficult).

~ "Now if you accepted the constant promiscuous broadcasts as normalcy, there were messages in them to inflate and pet and flatter you. If you simply said this chatter was altering your life, killing your privacy or altering your ability to think in silence, there were alternative messages that whispered of humiliation, craziness and vanishing. What sort of crank needs silence? What could be more harmless than a few words of advice?" ~ Mark Greif

“Malls are so anti-contemplative.”

“I don’t want to read; I want to converse with someone in depth.”

“I think, when I spend time on my own, a few things happen. After some hours, I start to laugh out loud. I do. After a few days, I’m having a great time. I go for a walk, and I read, because its so fresh for me. Then, I’m brought back not to any new insight on the world, but to what I already knew. The noise separates me from my instincts.” ~ Bono

“I just want to walk around some isolated places.” ~ some guy on a cell phone in B&N

In a sentence, I’m starving for space, solitude, reflection but addicted to sound, stimulation, information.

Of course, space, solitude and reflection are not ultimately ends in themselves. If I am to withdraw from the mass of cultural sounds, stimulations and an addiction to information, if I am to meditate in my heart on my bed, I must meditate, think on something or someone. What I need is Someone. Too often I turn away from His invitation to the noise of nothing, the action of distraction and egotism of acquired information.

O’ to be still…Selah.