I moved the five loads of laundry that was spread across the floor off to one side so that we’d have a space to sit. A mosquito danced in the air and disappeared from my sight, though for a minute or two stayed on my mind while I thought about how irritating it could be during the meditation; that thought slipped away as fast as it had popped up. Kim joined me and remarked about the mountain of laundry now piled against the wall, grabbed a turquoise bolster to sit on, and set a timer for our practice while I made up my own space and then turned out the lights. Sitting down for meditation, my body and mind felt soft and spacious; the company of my sweet friend and memory of our previous meditation experiences comforted me; the sounds from beneath us flooded through the floor; my blanket smelled musty; I connected to my breath more quickly than I expected and then off I went.
Awareness of the breath turned into a body scan that spread across my skin. First my scan was slow and fixed, then with an unconscious sense of encouragement I moved faster through the body and observed the thoughts, sounds, sensations, rise and fall without inhibition. All of a sudden a jolt of energy shot up from my hips, and through my arms passed currents of electricity and vibration. The sensation intensified and enlivened my awareness as it moved through my torso and extremities, and I looked from behind my eyes into a star field that rushed toward me. Later when we discussed the experience we likened the imagery to a television screen blasted with white noise, or the dark and unlit room we sat and talked in.
Vibration built and I descended toward dissolution, when out of the darkness came Kim’s voice: “oh my gosh”. I was ripped out and a second jolt shot through me as I found myself on my cushion across from her talking about how we had meditated for longer than we had planned or expected. Our meditation illuminated the importance of being in that space of exploration and depth together, though silent, connected.