Marketta Gregory: On the road to meditation and faith
When you grow up Baptist in Oklahoma, you just don’t do some things.
No drinking. No dirty dancing. No meditating.
At least that’s the way it was 30 years ago, when sitting still and humming was something unheard of — like rooting for Texas or Nebraska on the football field.
Sure, meditating has become more mainstream in the last few decades, but I had never tried it until last month. In fact, I had only a fleeting interest until I read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. Her book admittedly doesn’t fit well with conservative Baptist ideology, but she raises some good points about learning to be still — learning to really sit and wait on God.
I’ve often treated God like a short-order cook. I make my requests and I want my answers fast — no lingering or waiting around for something that he might want to say. And while I’d never consider myself a workaholic, I frequently fail to keep the Sabbath holy. I don’t take a full day each week to relax and focus on spiritual matters, even though my faith requires it and my thirsty soul needs it.
A few weeks ago, my body was leaving work, but my mind was still there. Somehow I needed to change that before I met a friend for dinner. So, out of nowhere, I started humming in my car. “Mmmm,” I said all the way through the Can of Worms during rush hour. “Mmmm,” I said as I turned on to West Ridge Road.
All the while my mind was running in circles: Humming takes a lot of breath. Why did my husband think it was OK to teach our toddler to drink from the milk jug? Those pine tree car fresheners are still popular after all these years. I hummed louder each time a thought popped into my mind. I got so loud that my nose tickled.
Finally, I pushed away enough wayward thoughts that I felt some stillness — the kind of inner quietness that you want for a good, focused prayer. Not bad for meditating on the go. Maybe next time I’ll repeat Jesus’ name or a favorite scripture to calm my talkative brain.
And maybe next time I won’t be driving.
