The candle flame dances before my eyes, moving to unseen but noticeable currents in the air. The room around me is dark, so the only light is from the candle before me. I am focused on that light, on that flame, and I sit with it in meditation.
I can feel the energy from the flame, slight though it is. I am connected to it, both by my focus on it but also through my own energy interacting with it. It is like there is a ribbon connecting us wherein an exchange can happen, and it further draws me in.
I close my eyes, keeping the image of the flame in my mind’s eye, noticing the flickering of the candle even through my closed eyelids. I sit this way for a minute, maybe two, then open my eyes again and focus on the flame once more.
I also focus on my breathing, trying to slow it down but mostly just trying to notice it and settle it into a regular, wholesome rhythm. This helps to slow my thoughts, as well, to quiet them, though this part of meditation is admittedly much more difficult. I notice my thoughts, take note of their content, and attempt to bring them to focus back on the flame. I am not yet good at this part; I find my thoughts straining to break free and wander off on their own again. I expect this will take time and practice to master, and so I allow the wandering thoughts to do their thing. Through all this, my eyes remain steady on the flame, on its energy, on its light.
Through my focus, I feel, or sense, the energy of the flame. I notice the life it possesses of its own. But more than that, I sense — or think I sense — something beyond the flame. Behind it? Or within it? Maybe even above it, though less literally and more metaphysically. It feels like a… presence? Maybe. Whatever it is, it’s something more, something else, something Other. I don’t know if it’s aware of me as I am of it. I just know that it’s there, that it exists, and that it has potential. I don’t try to reach out to it; I don’t entirely trust my assessment of its existence. It could just be the product of my active imagination.
I am doing this trataka, this candle meditation, not necessarily for any kind of spiritual enhancement or enlightenment, but more as a way to settle my mind for a bit, a way to calm my ever-present anxiety. If something more comes from it over time, then so be it. But I’m not looking to force anything. I’m not even entirely sure I want spirituality, even as I’m exploring whether or not there is a way to fit spirituality of some shape, some kind, back into my life.
The bells of my meditation timer chime twice, signaling the end of my vigil. I take a deep breath, then another, then lean forward and blow out the candle. The room falls into complete darkness, and I sit quietly for a moment longer, appreciating the silence.
Then I stand, and with that gesture, I re-enter the world waiting for me, feeling just a little lighter than I did before.
