Hello again, my fellow meditation explorers!

Welcome to week three of our grand meditation adventure. Last time, we delved into mindfulness meditation, learning how to watch our thoughts zoom around like a toddler on a sugar rush. This week, we're turning the page (quite literally) to a practice that's been around since monks wore robes that weren't just fashion statements: Lectio Divina.

What on Earth is Lectio Divina?

Lectio Divina is Latin for "divine reading," but don't let that scare you off if you're not religious. Think of it as "mindful reading" or "meditation for book lovers." It's a way to meditate on text, whether that's ancient scripture, modern poetry, or even your favourite novel (yes, even that trashy romance you hide under your pillow).

My First Dance with Lectio Divina

Picture this: There I was, sitting on my bed (again), this time with a book in my lap instead of just my wandering thoughts for company. I'd chosen a passage from "The Little Prince" because, let's face it, I needed all the wisdom I could get.

The process goes like this:

1. Read (Lectio): Read the passage slowly. And I mean slowly. Like, "snail climbing a hill" slowly.

2. Reflect (Meditatio): Think about what you've read. What stands out? What speaks to you?

3. Respond (Oratio): Have a chat with yourself (or God, or the universe) about what you've read.

4. Rest (Contemplatio): Just sit quietly with what you've experienced.

Sounds simple, right? Well, so does making the perfect cup of tea, but we all know how that can go wrong.

My Lectio Divina Misadventures

As I started reading, my mind immediately wandered: "Did I leave the oven on? No, wait, I haven't cooked in days. Maybe I should cook something. What was that recipe I saw on Instagram...?"

I dragged my attention back to the book. "The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart."

"Deep," I thought. "Like the crumbs in my keyboard."

Bringing my mind back (again), I reflected on the words. What can't be seen or touched? Love? Kindness? The perfect Wi-Fi signal?

As I sat with these thoughts, something shifted. I started thinking about the invisible connections between people, the unseen acts of kindness that make the world a bit brighter. It was... nice. Peaceful, even. For about 30 seconds, until I remembered I needed to do laundry.

But here's the thing: those 30 seconds? They were gold. A moment of clarity and connection in the midst of my usual mental circus.

The Surprising Benefits of Reading Really, Really Slowly

Over time, I've found that Lectio Divina has some unexpected perks:

1. It's great for overthinkers. Instead of trying to "empty" your mind, you're giving it something to focus on.

2. It helps you slow down. In a world of speed-reading and skimming, this practice teaches you to savour words like a fine cheese (or a packet of crisps, no judgement here).

3. It can spark creativity. By diving deep into text, you often surface with new ideas and insights.

4. It's flexible. You can practice with any text that speaks to you, from ancient wisdom to modern memes (though maybe skip the social media comments section).

Famous Fans of Slow Reading

Believe it or not, this practice of slow, meditative reading has some pretty impressive fans. Carl Jung, the famous psychologist, was known to practice a form of Lectio Divina with alchemical texts. He believed this deep, reflective reading could unlock insights from the unconscious mind.

Even Einstein was a fan of contemplative reading. He once said, "Any man who reads too much and uses his own brain too little falls into lazy habits of thinking." Lectio Divina is all about engaging deeply with what you read, so Einstein would probably approve (and who doesn't want Einstein's approval?).

Giving It a Go

If you want to try Lectio Divina, here's my advice:

1. Start small. A few sentences or a short paragraph is plenty.

2. Choose something meaningful to you. Sacred text, poetry, philosophy, or even song lyrics can work.

3. Be patient with yourself. If your mind wanders (and it will), gently bring it back to the words.

4. Don't worry about "getting it right." There's no perfect way to do this.

5. Keep a notebook handy. You might be surprised by the insights that pop up.

Remember, the goal isn't to analyse the text like you're writing an essay. It's about letting the words sink in and seeing what bubbles up in response.

Looking Ahead

Next week, we'll be diving into Transcendental Meditation, a practice that promises to be anything but transcendental for beginners like us. Get ready for mantras, misconceptions, and maybe a bit of levitation (just kidding, unless you count how high your eyebrows might rise in confusion).

Until then, happy reading, my fellow meditation adventurers. May your books be insightful and your thoughts be... well, thoughtful.

P.S. If you find yourself using Lectio Divina on the back of a cereal box because it's the only thing you can reach without getting out of bed, know that I've been there. Sometimes, even the ingredient list can be enlightening. Did you know there's something called "riboflavin" in your cornflakes?