Confessions of a Modern Meditator.

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I get it now.

Black is white

Day is night

Wrong is right.

My husband looks away from the television and turns to me;

What is going on! What in the world…..!

And I get it just like that.

There is no ruling from a lifetime past but happy anarchy.

And not worse but maybe better than the lie of safety and reason we supposed

from a prettily clothed and fiercely contained hearth

while outside the door the unfathomable cruelty of men and nature

appeared to randomly batter only those outside.


We are all outside now equally homeless and at home;

under the light, bending in the wind, shouting at the stars

in every language with every expletive available.




I am a modern meditator

My mantra has no Hindu spirit attachment to a past.

I would not know or care to compare

it to any other for which there is no measure anyway.

That is a miserable’s pastime.


Here is a tone like a hypnotist’s clue, unspoken,

it’s power unbroken by attachment to anything but the memory

of me when I received it.


Sometimes sitting; this hypnotic key and I are not enough.

Momentary protection by the mantra’s magical cocoon is

fleeting impermanence that turns back to an illusion of writing in stone when eyelids open.

So much waits at the door.

The emptiness of this transitory seat is illusion I will not bear.


I bring all of it into my quiet place.

I open the door to this inviting home.


To ready for a party is hard work of course.

But the resulting harmony of home serves me well too.

I know what to throw out and what to polish.

This home is left the better when the last guest smiles goodbye.


Still, this architecture has been battered as it’s not well designed to withstand storms.

It was not made to bend in the wind.

whether by my making or happenstance.

Does it matter?


Renovation is made in this hypnosis; this modern meditation.

Nothing outside is a stranger when you invite it in.

You feed the strange what you feed your loved ones.

You must remember to feed yourself as a loved one too.

With all inside, who will tear down your walls?


In you go with the rest of it;

With the storm and the sorrow and the mean and the crazy,

With the things you cannot fathom, with the life you cannot grasp.


What threatens from remote banks is much mystery perceived as threat.

Though threat might make its home in fear,

It has no grasp in a kindly place.

It has no choice but to amend.




re-posted on Rebelle Society as Confessions of a Modern Meditator 



Filed under allegory, meditation, new age enlightenment, poetry, social commentary, yoga, yoga teaching, yoga wisdom

9 responses to “Quiet.

  1. I suspect that this piece might benefit from a guide. The rules have changed since I learned to be an adult. Men opened doors and asked you out. Only circus freaks and prisoners marked their bodies. A balanced diet meant you could eat a piece of toast with butter and your stomach wouldn’t ache from the altered grain and you didn’t know that an animal’s abuse might be behind that sweet butter. Your sexuality was private and so was your religion and you did not expose yourself in any way for anyone unless you were acting or nuts. You get the gist.

    It’s a slow revolution now. It’s a huge departure from what was comfortable or seemed sane to me but in truth the middle class comfort story was brief in the history of this world and the sweet story of being the strongest and kindest nation on the earth after WWII has been exposed as a passing tale.

    So yes, no holds are barred now and I get it. It is not comfortable but people are finding a new way to relate. It looks like armegeddon to me but it’s because I was lucky enough to have come from a beautiful fantasy.

  2. “Nothing outside is a stranger when you invite it in.” So beautiful…and such a good starting place as we begin to find new ways to relate.

    • Finding new ways to relate is a big undertaking as it takes boldness and sensitivity as well as the ability to let go of some ideas of right and wrong while holding tight to what you feel is right. Thanks for being here Amanda. You might like the video I threw on at the end after the fact. It’s up on Rebelle Society’s formatting of my post. They do a beautiful job. Check it out. http://www.rebellesociety.com/2013/02/01/confessions-of-a-modern-meditator/ Dance on!

      • Okay. So, I got to read this Confessions piece again. Still love it. I listened to the video song and several times, it sent this little flutters down my shoulders and back (that’s a sure sign that those words resonate with me and feel true) and…AND I got to read your bio, courtesy of rebellesociey. you are bitchin’. I’m so glad you are out there doing what you do, Hilary. Keep rockin’

      • Funny how we get to know something of each other through our writings. I was sure you would love that song. 🙂 As for me rockin on…..I am not the person I once was on paper but I am all the same person despite that. My inventions and offerings are still deeply personal but less mainstream. Where I am now pushing against, I used to be the flow. Perhaps walking into the wind is futile but I can feel my edges and sometimes it’s enough to assure you that you still exist.

  3. When you present your edges, H, it helps the rest of us work with our own. There does seem to be a shakeup going on, and maybe there has always been, I don’t know. Whether there has or hasn’t, this one is ours. In our shakeup, absurdity has become appropriate and that makes it hard to find a place to stand. Can those of us who have been in it for a while find something useful to leave to the children? Will they in their experience be able to crack the code of ours? There is something deep and incorruptible, H, and I no longer believe it, I just know it. We have royally screwed things up, and maybe there’s a bad attitude that has descended upon the globe like a blanket of smog. In any case, the deep is there. It’s a drag that we have to keep rediscovering again and again. Frustrating.

    Got no answers my friend. But what you’re doing counts. So I’ll just say keep on keepin on.

    • What is deep and incorruptible in myself is hard enough to find these days. I cannot even begin to speak for others. But I must say by observing by own writing that there is a constancy of complaint. People don’t like that. People want someone to show them that all is well and we are perfect. My next post should satisfy them then. I wrote it last month and up it goes. I did not write it to satisfy anyone. But it reveals that moment of perfection.

      • Well, I like my rainbows and unicorns as much as the next guy, but somebody’s got to keep it real. On the other hand, I’m the first to say that we need to be kind to ourselves. So if it starts eatin on you, take a break. And I know you know all of this. When I’m trying to be supportive I tend to go with what the person I want to support seems to be going with. Maybe not the best, just the easiest. The truth is, I do wish I could see that you had more peace. That’s the truth.

      • Thank you. I probably came out of the womb screaming “What the Fuck”! There are reasons for that. Peace is found in pieces. I expect nothing more. Of course lately I realize I am a trespasser in my own life. And so there will be a post with that title to soon come. 🙂

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