A Week of Unbecoming: A Year of Meditation (Week 35)

This week, my practice left me with two words: return and restore. I realized that much of what I had chased was illusion—images created to fill an inner emptiness. As they dissolved, my heart grew quiet. That silence once felt frightening, so different from worldly “success,” but now I see it as the simplest form of truth.

As my application essays near completion, meditation became a space to gather my thoughts. I used to see it as a waste of time; now I understand it helped recover my whole life. It brought me not resignation, but surrender to my deepest nature. We may change outwardly, but we can’t escape what runs in our blood.

Repeatedly, I touched my limits—late nights, exhaustion—yet meditation always returned me to that quiet inner space. Limits aren’t to be feared; they remind me that real achievement is built through small, steady actions. One sentence at a time, distant ideals become reality.

I also felt the power of allowing. A research idea surfaced during practice; I settled on my English name in a calm moment. When we loosen our grip, the heart guides us toward truest desires. Small miracles begin this way.

Walking familiar streets, I felt free from old triggers. Places that once suffocated became mere background. A clear purpose silences the noise and frees us from the past. Every step now feels like a homecoming.

This weekend’s practice brought soft renewal. I revisited fragments of my life—years of drifting until finding an unexpected harbor. The heart, I felt, is kind and faithful. I saw life move from complexity to simplicity, from illusion back to essence. When outer layers fall, original truth remains.

On the final day, clarity emerged. I wrote, read, and recorded my wishes, then sat in silence. Everything grew vivid. True fulfillment isn’t about random desires—it’s the soul’s deepest longings being heard. Finding and following that voice is life’s essential task.

This week was a return—from illusion to truth, from noise to stillness. Again and again, meditation led me home.