Let’s pretend the Still Point is a place, a dot on the map of your consciousness. Do you know where it is? Do you have any roads leading to it? Or is it a tiny pinprick, lost in a sea of busyness, drifting about with no anchor, far from shore?

In today’s busy world, it’s easy to lose our connection to the Still Point, and the further we get from it, the less it even occurs to us that we might need to visit it – because, after all, we have THINGS TO THINK ABOUT! THINGS TO DO!

When I hear people say they have tried to meditate, but it is just too hard, I know they have forgotten about (or maybe never knew) the inestimable and necessary beauty of the Still Point.

What is the Still Point?

Each of us will describe it differently, but here is what it is for me –

It is moment in time when I let go of my need to be absorbed in my thoughts, when I step back and simply observe them floating by like ripples in a stream.

I feel my body sink into the chair, my spine relax, the heaviness of my hands on my lap.

My breathing becomes deeper and smoother, and I am aware of the sound of my breathing in and breathing out.

Gradually (and the amount of time this takes can vary from a few minutes to half an hour), I am able to let go of my stream of thoughts. I become aware of the sounds in the room, of my body in the chair, of the PRESENT MOMENT.

I may see some colors or lights or other visual effects. This does not always happen but when it does I welcome it. I may also feel a warm tingling all over my body.

Sensations come and go. Thoughts come and go. Moments of complete peace come and go. Moments of ecstasy come and go. Nothing lasts. Nothing needs to last. I am part of the larger stream, letting it carry me and remind me that I am always part of it.

Eventually I return from the Still Point.

I drink a big glass of water and make a few notes about my visit. When I am finished, I leave my journal on the small round glass table next to my large overstuffed deep red chair. I fold my tattered and much beloved brown shawl and place it over the arm of the chair, put my shoes on, and walk back into my busy life, with the memory of where I have been to enrich and sustain my everyday world.

Postscript:  A Metaphor about the Still Point from Inside Our Magnificent Bodies

I am reminded of the conversation I had on Finding Magic in Midlife with Dr. Joan King, a former neuroscience professor and author of The Code of Authentic Living: Cellular Wisdom. She coaches people in how to be guided from deep inside, from our own cellular wisdom. As we were talking about the fast pace of our world today and the excitement of being able to have access to so many people through social media like Twitter, I made the comment that this constant stream of input made me feel overwhelmed at times.

Joan and I discussed her chapter called Turning On and Turning Off in which she addresses this very issue. Here is the wisdom from our cells:  After the neurons are stimulated and release their transmitters they go into a quiet phase that is 3-4 times as long as when they were active. You see, when they are active lots of charged molecules are moving out and charged particles are moving in.  The cells have to re-equilibrate and move things back into place (sort of like catching up with your filing). During this time, the neuron is completely still.  If you force the neuron to fire during this restorative still time, it dies.

This is a perfect metaphor for our external lives. If we are constantly busy, if we don’t take time for silence and regain our equilibrium, nothing will be integrated and we will burn out. We will lose our connection to the larger source, our creative ability, our sense of peace and well being – our restorative connection to the Still Point.

Footnote: The Still Point in a Turning World is a line from T. S. Eliot

Have you ever bought a present for someone that you just couldn’t stop playing with? That’s what happened to me when I bought the Mirage, an instant 3-D hologram maker. You put this little plastic pig in the bowl, put the top on, and the pig appears to be sitting on the top of the bowl — but it’s not, it is only a hologram.

I now have this Mirage maker sitting on my desk, and every so often I reach over and try to pick up the pig, and every time I am re-astonished at how real the pig seems until I touch it.

The same thing is true of our “stories” isn’t it? They seem so real, we just know they are real, this is what really happened to me, we scream silently. But if we tell our story, or better yet, write our story, and ask someone who is not involved to listen to it or read it, and ask them to give us their view of it, or ask us questions about it, what do we find? It is just a story. We have personally arranged all the mirrors, just like this they did with the Mirage maker.

This is how the Mirage makes the pig appear real. The mirrors have to be arranged just a certain way, and they have to be polished for it to work. Hmmm, sound familiar? We have been arranging and polishing those mirrors for years. And then, if we are very lucky, someone moves one of the mirrors just a bit, and the pig disappears. Wow! Been carrying that pig around all my life, and now it’s just gone. What a miracle!

I actually arrived at this idea about the mirrors before the Mirage came into my life, when I was writing the chapter on Anger in Choosing to Be. I was having trouble explaining how meditation eventually helps us get out of our Ordinary Mind (the Mirage) and into Buddha Mind.

I was writing the dialogue between me and Poohbear Degoonacoon, the Feline Zen Master, in which he was trying to help me break free of my story, the one that was coming up repeatedly like a bad movie in my meditation. Pooh said that I was caught in the Wheel of Samsara (suffering), reliving the same events over and over again. He told me that the way to get of the wheel was to “become curious about this anger and this hurt and this humiliation. Do not participate in the scene. These feelings you are having are not you. Do not be overcome by what is happening in it. Step back and look at it from a distance.”

Several days later, the same scene came up again in my meditation. This time I did what Pooh suggested. I became curious, asking myself about the texture and tone of the feelings, and how my body was responding to them. I saw that my stomach would tighten, and I wasn’t breathing. I took a deep breath, and then another.

The story was still present, but the scene had shifted, as though I was looking at it from another angle. It was just a story about a woman who as a young girl made a decision that it was not acceptable to speak her truth. I saw how my story could morph and change in an instant, as if I was in a hall of mirrors and I just moved a few inches to the right — and got a completely different picture.

Of course, there are lots of books and techniques we can use to help us get out of our stories, but I find myself getting pretty attached to the pink pig that is not sitting on top of the bowl on my desk. Guess I’ll have to go back to the store to get another Mirage for that present I still owe my friend.

I have a confession to make. I don’t always meditate every day, even though I tell everyone they should.

What happens to me is what happens to most of us. We have every intention to stop, to sit still for brief time, to just be. But life gets going, we get revved up, and the day slips by before we know it. We smack our foreheads on the way to bed and say “Oops, I forgot to meditate today!”

I wrote a book about learning to meditate, and I wrote an e-program about how to become a confident sleeper, so, for the most part, I practice what I preach. Not to be goody-two shoes perfect, but because I really do understand how I benefit from doing what I tell other people to do.

But I get sloppy. I convince myself that as an experienced meditator who knows the value of it, I will remember to sit every day – but this really isn’t true. I go on automatic pilot, get through the entire day, and smack my forehead on the way to bed, just like everyone else.

When I was talking with my coach about how I was having trouble with my spiritual connection, she asked me how often I was sitting. Big (huge) light bulb moment! There is a direct correlation between how often I meditate and how connected I feel to my spiritual source.

At her suggestion, I changed my practice from that of “I know I will remember to sit every day because I write about this and I’m a seasoned meditator and I’m really cool with this, thanks” to something really brilliant. I decided to set a time that I will meditate every day. Okay, snicker if you want. I’m just trying to be honest here, even if it makes me look like a bit of a doofus.

After I implemented this brilliant plan, I sat every day, usually for 45 mins to an hour. I did this for 10 days. Here is what happened during that time. I slept really well every night. I was open and creative, and completely concentrated and focused when I needed to be. I loved myself and those around me. I was inspired and inspiring. I was connected to my spiritual source. In short, life was great!

And then one day, I “forgot” to meditate. It wasn’t on purpose. I was out running errands and didn’t get back in time, and then it slipped my mind that day.  The next day, I managed to sit but not at the appointed time. Slippery slope. In an amazingly short period of time, I had reverted to my former hit and miss approach.

And guess what? Didn’t sleep as well. Not as creative. Not able to focus like before. Striving for spiritual connection, but feeling like it eluded me. Inspiration was a distant memory.

What have I learned from this fall from grace? Simply this, it really was a fall from grace.

Do I want grace? You bet. I love grace. I love the way it makes me feel. And I know how to get it. Every day, at the appointed hour, all I have to do is Sit.

And say to myself every day that what is most important is most important. Act on it. Every day. My life will work better, I promise.

Today I received invitations to two teleseminars — each one striking a responsive chord with my own thoughts about how to prosper in 2010. Here’s what I’ve been thinking about:

#1. How can we sustain our sense of calm energy when there is much in our lives to feel stressed about?

Our effectiveness goes down when our stress goes up.  We “telegraph” our stress in our messaging and our interactions with our market. We’re not as creative and in the “flow” when we’re stressed. Seems to me there might be  simple equation here:

Stress + Unrestorative Sleep + Mindless, Reactive Behavior = Poor impact on Our Business

#2. How do we rise above the “noise” in an overwhelming flood of emails, tweets, facebook, linked-in and dozens of other sometimes not-so-social media requests?

If we are overwhelmed by the sea of hands raised for our attention, even if some of it is nicely done, pertinent, well written and respectful, we can probably assume that our customers and prospective customers are also. Now is when we need to get really grounded, breathe deeply, and allow our minds to wander creatively. Something needs to change. We need to change. But we can’t do it until we calm down.

Quite a conundrum, eh?

My approach has been to work on #1 first. This is why I meditate daily, and it’s why I spent last year learning everything I could about how to be a Confident Sleeper in Stressful Times. I knew times were going to be tough, and unlike the old John Wayne days when we said things like “When times get tough, the tough get going” — I knew we needed to be able to stay calm, relax our minds, and let go of obsessive thinking.

I’ve been successful at #1 — and I love sharing what I’ve learned and the Sleep Program I’ve created with the world.

Ah, now comes #2. How do I rise above the noise? I’m going to sit in on this teleseminar today — stay tuned for what I learn. . .

I am pleased to announce that a new Edition of Choosing to Be will be published  in 2010 by Findhorn Press, one of the world’s leading independent publishers in the fields of spirituality, healing, and self development. They are located in northeast Scotland, and publish works by authors living all around the world, distributing their titles worldwide.  Many of their titles have been translated into one or more languages.

This is a mock-up of the new cover.  It is much brighter and, and according to the Independent Publishers Group who advises Findhorn about their planned releases, more marketable than my original cover.  My dream has always been to have Choosing to Be in the hands of readers around the world, and I am delighted to be in the hands of a publisher who can help me realize that dream.

In the meantime, the current edition of Choosing to Be is available on Amazon until sometime in the Spring. You can see the great Reviews about the book by going to the Choosing to Be tab on this website.