Sitting on my maroon meditation cushion surrounded by a small group of three men and two woman, similarly resting on either cushions or mats of their own, I decide to work with a lake meditation today. I choose this because one of the men has recently shared that he is loving the mountain meditation and that he really enjoys detail guided imagery meditations. I think to myself, well, then let’s go to a lake. I feel a sense of excitement knowing that I will be visiting lake Winnipesaukee, a lake that I used to spend a lot of time on years ago and one that I remember with great fondness.
I invite the group to picture in their mind’s eye the image of a lake, a body of water, large or small, held in a receptive basin by the earth. I remind them that water likes to pool in low places, it seeks its own level, asks to be held and contained. The meditation then goes on to describe a variety of lakes; deep or shallow, blue or green, muddy or clear. Some lakes have a flat surface that reflects trees, rocks, sky and clouds. Others are whipped to frothing, with reflections that distort and disappear, sunlight that sparkles on the waves like shimmering diamonds. In winter, the lake may freeze over while life below the surface continues with movement. I encourage the group to bring the image of their lake inside themselves so that they actually become one with the lake. Breathing as the lake, feeling its body as their own body, allowing their mind and heart to be open and receptive. They are invited to identify not only with the surface of the lake but the entire body of water so that they can become the stillness below the surface as well.
Jon Kabat-Zinn says this about the Lake Meditation: “In your mediation practice and in your daily life, can you be in touch, not only with the changing content and intensity of your thoughts and feelings, but also with the vast unwavering reservoir of awareness itself, residing below the surface of your mind. The lake can teach us this, remind us of the lake within ourselves.”
As the meditation comes to a close, I am caught by surprise at what happens next.
I always end my meditations by asking if anyone has any questions or if they would like to share anything. This is often my favorite part of class because I almost always hear something that deeply touches me, that teaches me something, or that I believe is exactly what someone in the room needs to hear. Before I go on to share what happens in the moments following the lake meditation, I want to first share something that happened the previous night.
I am working on an upcoming workshop that I am doing to help introduce mindfulness to teenage children. In the course of my research and compiling what I want to offer these adolescents, I begin to question myself. It is that little voice that can creep into my head raising self doubt and judging myself much too harshly. Before I know it, I am researching websites of other instructors offering similar programs only to feel even less secure in my own talents. I worry that I don’t have the qualifications I see in so many others. So many certifications and degrees that I don’t yet have. Fancy websites that I am still saving money to be able to afford. Years of experience teaching that I also do not have. It really does a number on me and before I know it, I am questioning this journey I am on and wondering what on earth I am really doing here? Where am I going in all of this?
Back to the moments following the lake meditation today. It was in listening to one of the men share of his experience that I found the answers to my own questions. This man shares with such a raw vulnerability about how at first he was afraid to go near his lake because of how tumultuous the surface appeared. He feared it would swallow him up. Then he proceeded to share how as the meditation guided him to begin to explore beneath the surface of the lake, he began to relax as he realized that what resides below the surface is not changed by what is happening above. No matter how violent the storms above are, it can remain safe below. He went on in great detail and I could not help but feel extremely blessed at how he felt comfortable sharing so openly. In listening to him share of his experience, in seeing the excitement in his eyes and hearing the passion in his voice as he talks, I receive a bright beautiful answer to those questions that plagued me the night before. “What am I really doing here”? I am sharing what I have learned over the years as honestly and authentically as I know how. I am savoring the experience of being fully present with each person I am blessed to share with. “Where am I going with all of this”? As far as I can go! When I was first introduced to Mindfulness, after being diagnosed with MS over twelve years ago, I made a decision that I was going to take the experiences that living with this condition gives to me and use them to help others. So, I may not have all of the certifications or degrees that some others in this field have, but what I do have to offer, as a result of over twelve years of a daily mindfulness practice, seems to be enough right now and seems to be allowing me to connect with a variety of people in a way that is deeply meaningful.
So in calling to mind the image of my own lake, I realize that the small voice of self doubt and the critical judging mind that is second guessing my path, are nothing more than violent storms that create a choppy, turbulent surface on my lake. The beauty is that if I can focus on the calm stillness that resides beneath that surface, I have all of the confidence and ability needed to succeed on this journey of teaching mindfulness to as many people as I possibly can.
