Eat, Pray, Love

(Dana P.) #1
So I’ll sit with it here today.

Ham-sa.


I am That.
Thoughts come, but I don’t pay much attention to them, other than to say to them in an al-
most motherly manner, “Oh, I know you jokers... go outside and play now... Mommy’s
listening to God.”


Ham-sa.


I am That.
I fall asleep for a while. (Or whatever. In meditation, you can never really be sure if what
you think is sleep is actually sleep; sometimes it’s just another level of consciousness.) When
I awake, or whatever, I can feel this soft blue electrical energy pulsing through my body, in
waves. It’s a little alarming, but also amazing. I don’t know what to do, so I just speak intern-
ally to this energy. I say to it, “I believe in you,” and it magnifies, volumizes, in response. It’s
frighteningly powerful now, like a kidnapping of the senses. It’s humming up from the base of
my spine. My neck feels like it wants to stretch and twist, so I let it, and then I’m sitting there
in the strangest position—perched upright like a good Yogi, but with my left ear pressed hard
against my left shoulder. I don’t know why my head and neck want to do this, but I’m not go-
ing to argue with them; they are insistent. The pounding blue energy keeps pitching through
my body, and I can hear a sort of thrumming sound in my ears, and it’s so mighty now that I
actually can’t deal with it anymore. It scares me so much that I say to it, “I’m not ready yet!”
and snap open my eyes. It all goes away. I’m back in a room again, back in my surroundings.
I look at my watch. I’ve been here—or somewhere—for almost an hour.
I am panting, literally panting.
Eat, Pray, Love

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