On a bright afternoon several months ago, long before the coronavirus unpredictably emerged in the world, I was enjoying a
calm meditation session with a group of six young boys.
Okay, let me rephrase that. There were six boys, all fourth graders, and the afternoon was really pleasant but the boys were not at all calm…
They were thrilled to see each other and irrepressibly excited about everything that was opposite of meditation.
Pillows were flying through the air, kids were rolling on carpets, a reflexology ball was doubling as a hot potato. That’s when I turned on some soothing meditation music.
This didn’t much affect their mirth. But it was a first step toward calming down.
When I told the boys what I had planned for our meditation session, they showed a little curiosity, though still seemed unsure if they were in or not. Their multiplayer playdate was still equally (if not more) attractive.
Taking advantage of their uncertainty, I asked them to all begin taking some deep breaths. Okay, finally. At last, I’d made a little progress.
Now was the right moment to begin guiding the meditation.
I began reading my script to the boys
- a meditation script about listening to singing birds on a very early Sunday morning. At first, my voice was a little loud… I mean, more than a little… I had to seize their attention over all the commotion.
After finishing the first sentence, I noticed that the room had become a bit quieter. You’ve got them on the hook. Now reel them in.
By the third sentence, all six boys were laying on the carpet with their eyes closed.
All that could be heard was the sound of my voice reading the meditation script and the music suspended in the distant background.
Such circumstances are something I’ve never really gotten used to. That is, I’m always surprised at how suddenly a very busy room can be hushed.
These all too rare moments of kids laying down with their eyes closed, drawing imaginary pictures in their minds are so precious. And they never last for long… But that is totally fine. We don’t need them to be long.
When we finally reached the end of our meditation, I asked if anyone wanted to share their experience.
Kids are usually eager to share what they’ve imagined and how meditating felt. It’s hard to believe how abundant their minds’ eyes can become in a relatively short length of time.
During our meditation, the boys conjured many visuals, scenes and places, each participant’s imagination expressing their needs or wants at that time.
Every one of them had his very own story to tell.
Some of the boys listened to the script and visualized it, some became very much engaged with their own imaginations and drifted away at a certain point.
But all had lovely stories to share.
So, what did we gain from this session?
- The boys were laying down on the carpet with their eyes closed for a good 10-15 minutes.
- They managed to quiet themselves totally and engage in their personal imaginary worlds.
- During meditation, they were all very calm and focused on the experience.
- They emerged feeling peaceful, uplifted and empowered.
- They enjoyed discussing what they had imagined and felt.
- No screens or any other external distractions were necessary.
“A giant bird made out of water!” shared one of the boys. He said that the birds from the script had merged in his mind with the sounds of water in the music we had on. What a fantastic image!