Ancient Meditations

I stand outside the Great Pyramid of Giza. The ancient blocks are taller than I, their surfaces perfectly hewn from weather and time, stacked on each other for support. The breeze cools part of the dry heat away, violently blowing hair across our faces.

Someone tells me to enter the pyramid. I do. Inside is ancient darkness, a sacredness, a stifling heat that sucks out the freshness of the world. I walk in darker, deeper, into the core.

There is a holed tomb, or according to the guided meditation today, a fountain in the shape of the Sphinx. I can hear the water drip on the rock, and am told that this is the pool of truth.

I am asked to find a question, a deep question, and pose it to the pool. “How do I grow up with kindness?” is what I ask. Not what is this pain, or is this worry worth worrying about, or am I worthy – all questions that plague me. But no, for some reason I ask “How do I grow up with kindness?” Although, I am 30. I “should be” grown up by now.

But we never stop growing. Just like life – there is no end goal. There is no destination of “grown up.”

The pool told me to give, and to trust.

I am instructed to walk into another chamber, filled with light, and open my eyes to the sand and the camels walking on the horizon.

I sat on a camel, one tattooed and chapped, as someone guides us around the shape of the pyramid. My father sat on one too, and my mother smiled at us.

The Pyramids, and a camel, during a family trip to Egypt in 2008


I am basically writing this blog post just so I can get through to my next activity on this beautiful day: sitting outside and reading.

So, let’s get to it.


They say that writing is about showing up. Showing up for your job, and being receptive to whatever may come along. Some days nothing comes and you just write, some days it is a struggle (like today because I just want to go read), but some days something magical happens – you write the world into a new way of seeing, from a force greater than yourself.

But, that is not today. Instead of sitting down and writing this morning as usual, I fantasized about going to India and did some of the dishes and answered not enough emails and took things to the Equality House for a garage sale to support freedom in Uganda.

Now I sit, writing an uncategorized post. And now, I’m going to go outside to read the world into a new way of seeing.

Tallyho, my friends. Tallyho.