A Quaker meditation
I turn off everything except myself.
Inside I come alive.
Energy in stillness.
Thoughts come but they are only observed as they pass through.
Twigs in a river.
A thousand thoughts whiz by uncounted
Unrecognised.
Just acknowledged in a fleeting way.
I can never step in the same river twice.
In this world of a one handed clap where
Trees fall in the forest where no-one listens.
Relax.
Open up my heart.
I am attuned to listening. I give of myself as a receptacle.
The cat in the corner of the room is there, I am aware of it.
But I am only aware of my awareness, not of the existence.
I am composed now.
Relaxed and waiting
This is the waiting worship.