a meditation on personal divinity

Recently, I mentioned having been to a doctor to be ‘hypnotized’ and being put through a series of meditation exercises. Two of the many struck me as worth adding to my regular routine. One was an exercise in ‘gratitude’. The other was an introduction to ‘personal divinity’. Even if you don’t meditate, per sé, you might find them interesting concepts to play with…

 a meditation on personal divinity 

‘Now, I want you to pick a body part…’ the doctor said. ‘Maybe the one you think prettiest… or the healthiest… but pick one and try to visualize it.’

‘As you do, I want you to give it dimension and mass. Give it colour… it could be red, or purple, or whatever you like… and give it texture…’

As I listened, a smile sprang to my lips because I’d done that type of visualization before and felt confident that I could do it again.

‘When you can see and feel it, I want you to picture it glowing with a pure white light that emanates from every cell of that body part…’ the doctor said. ‘Now, picture that light spreading from that body part to the next… and the next… and as it does, I want you to see them each glowing with the same pure… white… light…’

Suddenly, the image of the organ I’d chosen wavered and the glimmer of light I’d envisioned sputtered… and died… like a campfire dying in a downpour. My smile vanished and tension rippled through my body. ‘Why?!” I thought.

Despite the fact that I was supposed to be ‘hypnotized’ and had been deeply relaxed for the better part of an hour long session, a detached portion of my mind was quietly and completely awake. ‘Because the lessons we need most are the ones we resist the hardest,’ it calmly replied.

Had he asked me to picture a part of his body and to bask in the pure, holy light of its glow, I’d have done so and happily. If he’d asked me to believe, with every fibre of my being, that that light could heal, I’d have sworn it was true. I could because I believed in the divinity of others. God, or Nature, or the Creative force of the Universe was the ultimate truth – the stuff that drives and exists as every ‘thing’ and ‘one’ – so the doctor was a ‘doctor’, but he was also ‘god’ to me. Thus, I could love, accept, and revere him as such and believe in his ability to heal with a thought. But, because he’d asked me to see and connect with the ‘God’ or ‘divine’ in myself, the visualization deteriorated.

‘Which means…?’ The detached portion of my mind prodded… and waited… ‘That I don’t believe in my own ‘divinity’,’ I answered, sadly. 

Luckily, (or not) the doctor moved on, directing me through that exercise and on to the next. But, as I left his office that day, I felt certain that I should remember and practice this exercise.

I’d gone to learn to quit smoking – a self-destructive behaviour – and the reason the doctor had asked me to practice this visualization was because helping me to connect with my personal ‘divinity’ would mean that I ‘couldn’t’ smoke.

If I believed in the divinity of God, I would be incapable of harming it. If I believed in my own divinity, I’d be incapable of harming myself… and… I’d believe in my own ability to love and heal myself.

‘The lessons we need most are the ones we resist hardest,’ I thought as I left, and made the promise to myself to learn this one well.

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