Taken: Breaking the Darkness Book 1(5)

By: Felicia Starr

I decided I should try to do some sort of exercise. That decision hadn't come quite to the point of action, maybe because running in place in the dark would have messed with my vertigo. I managed to do a few push-ups and part of my old abdominal routine I learned from a workout video. I didn't want to waste too much of my energy, but I also didn't want my body to atrophy lying around doing nothing. I performed a few of the yoga poses I remembered from class and tried to meditate when I wasn't sleeping.

Trying to quiet the incessant rambling going on in my mind was very hard. My thoughts jumped from one topic to another and back to the first. Sometimes I thought about the same thing over and over again. In the darkness I seemed to be my own worst enemy. If I could have found some mental quiet and stopped thinking about those darn ginger snaps over and over again, maybe my stomach might stop growling.

So I decided I would sit there in a meditation pose with the backs of my hands resting upon my knees and my palms to the sky. My thumb and pointer finger were touching to create gentle little ovals. For a minute before I began to chant, I put them together and pictured they would make the infinity symbol. I tried not to think about the fact that I felt like I'd been there for an eternity. To avoid where that train of thought was about to go, I started to OM.

I began with three long and deep OMs out loud. The vibrations echoed off the walls. I felt it bounce back at me and embraced the vibration coursing through me. In the surrounding blackness, everything seemed to be intensified. I decided it might be best to om in my head. I was afraid someone might hear me and decide to threaten my brief moment of peace.

I sat there and OMed for what could have been minutes or hours. That little bit of tranquility was fairly short lived. Between the forced sounds of my inner voice repeating the harmonizing sound truly meant to be vocalized aloud, my mind was bombarded by all the thoughts and images I tried to escape. With each OM, I tried to push them to the back of my mind with little success.

Images of my mother, with her long golden-blond hair, filled my mind. My heart seemed to empty out at the sheer thought of her. Om, breathe in and out, I silently repeated to myself. Of course, though, my thoughts wandered off to what might be rotting in my refrigerator. Back to a few more OMs. It was difficult not to notice my lack of personal hygiene. I tried to focus on my breath. What about the empty walls in the room? Were they always that way or was everything removed when it became my prison?

I couldn't seem to draw my focus away from my surroundings. Amazingly, my breathing remained steady and had a nice even rhythm. My tongue was pressed firmly to the roof of my mouth as my breath slowly forced its way out through my nose, creating a sound reminiscent of the ocean. I found myself very aware of the position of my body and where it was located within the four walls of gloom. I kept thinking about my dream, in which I saw my prison more clearly, as if it were slightly lit. Trying to stay focused on my breath, I again repeated a few more OMs. I wondered if what I saw in my dream was the reality of my surroundings.

When all I could do was feel my way around the small confines, how could I possibly know the colors of the walls or the esthetic details of the room?

I don't know how long I'd been attempting to meditate, but my body was starting to lose sensation, surprisingly, not in a way that was painful. My legs and feet weren't asleep with pins and needles; there was just calmness. My muscles sank into themselves. I may not have ultimately been able to clear my mind, but I did interfere with my connection to my body. If I were lying down, I might have thought I was asleep but aware of my surroundings. What's going on? That was kind of a funny thought, since the only thing going on was my sitting in the dark, unmoving.

In my mind's eye I could picture myself sitting in the room of my dream. It was surreal how clearly I could do so. It seemed like I could reach out and touch myself. I felt like I looked into a mirror image of myself. If I were to raise my hand, would my mirror image raise a hand too? Before I realized what I was doing, I reached out to touch myself, a self as still as a statue. Just as my hand touched the arm in front of me, I felt a jolt of gentle energy zap my skin. I felt as if someone just knocked the wind out of me, and I jumped and opened my eyes to find myself still sitting in my meditation pose.

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