In yoga philosophy, Samadhi is a blissful state of consciousness induced by complete meditation. Like almost everyone else, I find it challenging to reach that state. In fact, I can think of only once where I came close to entering it.
It was at the end of a 4-day hike through Canyon de Chelly in Arizona on the Navajo Rez. I was a on a vision quest with a group of people led by a shaman named Alberto. So as the others climbed out of the canyon to a waiting bus, I decided to sit on a boulder and meditate awhile as I gazed out over the canyon. Several people were lagging behind so I figured I had time.
Within a few minutes, I moved into a state of consciousness I’d never achieved in meditation. I lost track of time, my thoughts faded to nothingness, and I literally became the canyon. Yet, at the same time, I was aware of myself seated on the rock. I was in bliss and I didn’t want it to end.
Vaguely from a distance I heard a voice calling my name repeatedly. I slowly came out of it, and realized that Alberto was yelling at me from the road above. The bus was full and everyone was waiting to go. He’d been shouting my name off and on for several minutes. So I climbed down from my rock and rejoined the others.
I told this story to my meditation class recently as a I prepared to read a couple of passages about samadhi from an adaptation of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras, written more than 2,000 years ago. It wasn’t until a couple days before the class that I was struck by an ironic synchronicity that I’d overlooked. The book which I had selected was called, Yoga, Power and Spirit: Patanjali the Shaman. I’d picked it up a couple of years ago because I recognized the author, Alberto Villoldo. Yes, Alberto, the same Alberto who had yelled at me from the road to get off the rock, and hence out of samadhi.
Trish didn’t think this was much of a synchronicity–more of a case of awareness– maybe because Alberto hasn’t surfaced in the present in any form unrelated to my meditation class. She has a point, but it still struck me as meaningful since I hadn’t consciously connected my canyon story with the book I was using for the meditation on samadhi.
Here’s a portion of what I read.
Meditating by a lake,
the yogi becomes the lake,
Meditating by a fire,
the yogi becomes
the flame,
the crackling branch,
the oak,
the acorn.
She becomes one with the object of her meditation.
She becomes the red-rock canyon wall
or soft and green like the moss.
She smells the rose and there is only the fragrance,
No thought of roses
She achieves samadhi.