So, after getting up, having breakfast, cleaning the bathrooms, shaving, showering and dressing I laid down on my bed.
I didn’t exactly feel tired. I was neither weary nor sleepy. I just wanted to take a beat before moving on with the rest of my day.
I closed my eyes.
Now, I’m someone who finds it really easy to fall asleep, whether it’s at night or in the daytime. I know how to find the path to sleep in my mind and I’m really good at travelling it.
I don’t like to sleep in the daytime, though. And I don’t like to sleep when I’m trying to meditate. Unfortunately, I sometimes do.
When I wake up from these lapses, I’m angry with myself and grumpy with others. I feel like I’m a failure and it knocks my self confidence down a notch.
So, when I closed my eyes this morning, I was determined not to walk the path to sleep.
As I lay there, I consciously acknowledged the routes that I knew led to unawareness: thinking about the past, imagining other places and fantasising about things that are not real. I knew that if I stayed present, in this room, in this body, grounded in reality then it would be possible for me to stay relaxed on my bed and, more importantly, to stay awake.
I found, in this epic battle, that seemed to last an age but probably only spanned five minutes, that I was able to fight off the lures of sleep, sneak quietly away from the arms of Morpheus and stay alert and awake for second after long second. But I couldn’t sense danger lurking at every step. One slip and I would go under.
Then I discovered something awesome!
In my fight to stay present, I happened across something that I don’t normally notice. Something that stays constant wherever I am. Something that can pause briefly, speed up or slow down at will, but which always resumes and stays with me at all times. At least, all the times that are important to me.
You know what it is. You must have guessed by now, surely. Because, unless you’re a sentient version of Google reading this from the point of view of the future (and giggling at the naivety of humans), you have it too. It is …
… breath.
To cut a long story short (‘too late!’ I hear you cry) I did what meditators have been recommending since time immemorial: I latched firmly onto my breath. I watched my lungs fill and empty again, and again. I stayed with the ever-present, grounding feeling that this observance produced and it buoyed me, raised me up, kept me afloat superbly well on a safe ship, high above the waves of sleep. Aware of the sea, Burnside from it. My boat; my breath never faltered once in its loving care for me.
And together, we triumphed!
So, yeah – in conclusion: if you want to stay awake during meditation, just follow the breath.
It only took me thirty years to learn this simple method, but you’re better than me.; you can learn immediately, right?
Good luck with that. 🐸