Wading into a Yurt

During a stint in the gorgeous Byron Bay I attended the kind of thing you can only do whilst on a stint in Byron, I attended a silent meditation. In a yurt. It was a cool still night when I drove towards the meditation centre just out of town, it appeared the worlds most flamboyant drag queen had thrown handfuls of glitter and diamonds across the dark stretch of sky. Just months earlier we had fallen in love with Byron on the most incredible of evenings. A perfect 3 foot clean swell curving beautifully into the magic Wategos – a rare occurrence indeed – a full moon rose into the sky as the sun set behind the mountains, it was so beautiful it was completely surreal The energy was raw and completely invigorating. The universe had split open with colours and sounds and smells and we got to surf it! I digress, returning to the yurt. I wrapped my wool cardigan around my body and fiddled with my meditation cushion. I was slightly intrigued and slightly cynical about how I would manage a silent meditation. I had meditated before, but always as part of yoga, a guided meditation or with music, every attempt at a meditation had so far been fraught with difficulties. Fidgeting, trouble with breath and most integral challenges arising from my seemingly inability to quieten my mind and still my body. I had never attempted silent meditation in a yurt, perhaps this would be the game changer. I settled into place & those around me rustled and then quietened our facilitator took to the front to introduce himself and then, closing the last of the doors in the beautiful cavernous space invited us to begin our practice. The yurt felt both intimate and spacious, I loved the feeling. Perhaps it was the metaphor for my mind that I liked but the sense of space whilst feeling secure within boundaries was a feeling I instantly identified with.In the dim light of the yurt I acknowledged every thought that danced about in my mind; a myriad of random thoughts, to-do’s and recognition of the thinking as I was thinking, but then after a period I felt like the thoughts were just washing over me and I began to lose track of time. It felt like that sense you have when you’re a kid and you lay down on the sand, right at the edge of the waves and allow them to rush at and over you then move back out to sea. There was movement, but I was still. I don’t know how long passed like that. All I had was the timeless feeling of being weightless. I was sold.