Meditation in Writing

“Pay attention to all the words I am telling you.

    Lean in closer so you may hear all I say.

Keep them before you; meditate on them;

    set them safely in your heart.

For those who discover them, they are life.

    They bring wholeness and healing to their bodies.” 

(Psalm 4:20-22 VOICE)

I would like to be more focused and mindful, but I am easily distracted. Even though I know this about myself, I do not protect my mind from the myriad of diversions that surround me. In fact, I seek them out. Instead of focusing on one task, I multitask. Instead of enjoying one pleasure, I indulge in juggling several amusements at the same time. As I am typing this, I have five windows open on my laptop. This is what my mind looks like too...constantly perusing. I invested in this practice of multitasking, imagining that it would increase my efficiency--but it has resulted in diminishing returns. Feeding this addiction has further dissipated my concentration, reduced my productivity, and shunted my creativity. 

 

I have read that meditation can increase awareness and attention. I have tried different kinds: breathing meditations (where you focus on the natural rhythm of your breath), mantra meditations (where you repeat a word), moving meditations (focusing on the movement of your body while walking, running, gardening, yoga), guided meditations (where another person talks you through the process), etc. While all of these methods have helped to some degree, my favorite form of meditation is writing meditation. 

I use meditation writing in two different ways. Sometimes I have an idea that needs further processing, but I don’t want to dwell on that thought during meditation. I write down a reminder word or phrase so that I can stay mindful of the present. This feels like tying a weight on a helium balloon so it doesn’t drift off into the sky. By taking a few seconds to jot down a word, I free my mind from getting side-tracked.  The second method of meditation writing I practice is free writing. I take twenty calming breaths. Then I scribble down whatever comes into my mind for ten minutes. I do not edit. I do not try to make sense. I do not even write full sentences. After the ten minutes are over, I read out loud what I have written. This part feels uncomfortable for me, yet the daily patterns have been revealing. My written meditations are often worded in the form of prayer. I ask for wisdom. I listen with my heart. I pay attention to every random word.  I let it all wash over my soul. I come away feeling clean, whole, and healed.