Meditation August 5, 2018
After a minutes of jumbled images I felt Monjoronson's symbol. Finally thought, “Ah, here it is, the astral plain,” experienced that familiar feeling of deep meditation.
First I wandered aimlessly around in a thick crowd of people, not feeling comfortable, but continued to wander, getting easily distracted. Finally I stopped in the middle of all that chaos and shut out the clamor.
Remembered some of the more meaningful meditations I had in the past, like fast forwarding them individually in my mind. Most of the ones I thought of were from up above the Earth. Thought of how I stop to greet Monjoronson before entering the building of my Library. Then asked, “What am I supposed to learn today?” The song 'You Raise Me Up' began playing over and over in my head(it continued to play throughout the meditation and later felt compelled to find the lyrics. Couldn't remember the last time I'd heard that song). Suddenly in the middle of the crowd, a hand reached down from above. I remembered a poem I'd written, raised my hand and Monjoronson pulled me up. It looked like we were standing on a cloud, but it was solid.
He smiled, again I was reminded, “Spiritual connection in meditation isn't about guides and teachers not wanting to communicate or connect with you. It's about setting aside the time, clearing your mind enough, setting your intention... and allowing it.”
We peered through the cut out of the cloud looking below. Like the hole ice fishermen use. He bent down to look more carefully and said, “You spend so much time concentrating on meaningless tasks.” I saw hundreds of numbered playing cards speeding through the air(I do spend a lot of my extra time playing online solitaire. Thought it was good for my brain!).
There were groups of others gathered about, looking through openings in the cloud, watching and cheering on their charges. A ways over I saw several of my family members, including my brother. He stood, smiled broadly, raising his hand in an enthusiastic wave. He looked like his teenage self. I waved back, but did not join them.
The cloud then disappeared, I saw it was really a thick transparent platform situated miles above the ground. I'd visited several places such as this over the years. We looked through the hole. A relative appeared all in black, hunched over in despair, creating a deep dark rut moving in an endless circle. They were repeating their words and actions over and over, not looking up, or doing the the work it took to break free of the cycle.
Again this was a lesson in free will.
The meditation was over. I went online to read the words and listen carefully to the song You Raise Me Up by Secret Garden. It was originally written when the author's mother passed away. The song truly moved me. I thought about how it related to my meditation, visualized my daughter singing it. Was prompted then to ask my brother's youngest daughter to listen to it. Who, by the way, is named after my mom.