The benefits that Sahaja Yoga brings to our lives are infinite. Vibrations are not just there when we meditate; they are there every second of our lives, just waiting for us to let them help if we shut off our thoughts long enough for them to be heard.
When teaching a class of thirty boisterous Year Four children, I found that it was often difficult to remember this. The class was particularly challenging as it had more than its fair share of strong personalities. Two children had been diagnosed with behavioural disorders and one child suffered from a form of autism known as Aspergers Syndrome. However, one day that all changed.
I was having a hectic time with my class. We had just finished sport and we were awaiting the much-anticipated shopping spree at our P & C Mothers’ Day stall. The children were bouncing off the walls, and all I could do was think of how much I wanted to meditate.
This was the moment that I remembered I had vibratory help, literally at hand. So, I wrestled to get into thoughtless awareness. As I did this I remembered that relaxation techniques, although rarely taught, were a part of the Physical Education and Personal Development curriculum. The class could learn to use meditation to relax!
I managed to settle my class down and then told them that I understood that they were very excited and that probably their heads felt as though they were ready to explode with thoughts about the stall. What will I buy? What will be there? Will there be anything left? Is it our turn next? Or maybe there were thoughts about what just happened at sport. On top of it all, I dared to sympathise, they had a bossy teacher telling them what to do! The class smiled in agreement. They also agreed to try a way of helping them to relax and feel better.
I didn’t explain a thing. I didn’t talk about what would happen. I didn’t use the words, “cool breeze”, “Kundalini” or even “meditation”. I simply asked them to sit comfortably and copy me.
I sat for meditation with palms upturned. I began to move my right hand slowly upwards in front of me until it reached the top of my head and lightly touched the centre of the fontanel area. Thirty pairs of eyes all watched, and thirty hands all did as I did. We did this a number of times. Then we held the right hand above the tops of our heads, as we do in Sahaja Yoga to feel the Kundalini. I didn’t even so much as hint that they would feel anything.
After a few seconds, I lowered my hand back onto my lap and asked them to close their eyes. Every eye shut. They were meditating! The room was completely silent, and the meditation that I was having was incredible. The whole atmosphere had changed.
It was difficult to stop my own meditation, but it occurred to me that I should ask them to write down their experiences, if they had any and only if they wanted. I quietly got out some paper as I told them to open their eyes.
When I looked at them, they were all glowing. Stunned, I asked them to put up their hands if they felt different from when we started. The entire class put up their hands. I asked if they felt anything above the tops of their heads. I will always remember the smiling, nodding faces of the “cool” girls up the back. I told them that if they wanted to, they could write down what they felt, and began to hand out the writing paper. Each child wrote.
By the time they had finished, it was our class’s turn to go to the Mothers’ Day stall. My usually rowdy class quietly left the room and enjoyed a successful shopping experience.
Later, I read their descriptions of how they felt. If I had any doubt about whether or not they had truly gotten their realization, they were immediately removed as I read comments such as, “I felt as light as a feather,” “It felt cool,” and “I loved it”.
The one that moved me the most lacked any poetic description, but it was full of meaning. It said, “I felt normal”. It was written by the boy with Aspergers.
LB