The 7-Hour Experiment

the decision Upon waking at my second alarm, about 7 AM, I sat upright in bed to meditate. I vaguely remembered the previous intention that I had typed in my phone. But I did not recognize the passion in it until I re-read it just now. I sat to meditate, a throw blanket over my head because I was so cold. I sat draped like a ghost. I felt like a ghost. In that very moment, instead of meditating, I came up with this experiment. I have never had such an idea cross my mind before: to take seven hours to ask a single question. I did not even consciously choose seven hours. I just knew I would start around 8 AM, and that as much as I wanted to do nothing else, at 3 PM I should get back to life. Practice yoga. Do some work. So I set my alarm and put my phone away. Not once did I check it. I listened, even though I thought it as strange as some of you might be thinking. I didn’t even know why I should do this—just that I should. I also had no expectations for what it meant. I knew though, that I needed to ask, “Who am I?” This is a question of ancient yogi practice. Something to meditate on. The day before, it came to me, re-reading The Untethered Soul by Michael Singer. That same day I had been listening to Oprah’s “SuperSoul Conversations” with Eckhart Tolle, and once again the “Who am I?” crossed my awareness. So I awoke this morning, had breakfast, fed the cats. I did not shower or get out of my robe. I grabbed my meditation cushion, my blankets. Picked a spot on the floor outside the closet—and began to sit. For the entire seven hours, each time I stopped to write I had no idea what time it was nor for how long I had been “gone.” So as you read, perhaps an hour passed between entries. Perhaps ten minutes. I would write, then regroup, maybe move to a different spot in my room on the floor—always on the floor; sitting, sometimes lying down. And then begin again. Everything you read is as it was written in a semi-conscious state. Or perhaps a little more conscious.