What Does It Mean to Be Centred?

Being centred.

What does that mean to you?

Is this a state of being — reserved only for orange-robed monks living in mountain-top monasteries?

Is being centred only for ‘spiritual’ people?

Does it mean that you become soft-voiced, and limp-wristed, with a continual glazed look in your eyes?

Do you need to be passive and super-chill to be centred?

Always on a journey, never getting to anything?

Are only hippies centred?

Do you need to go full vegan to be a centred person?

I’ve spent a lot of my life in anxiety. Fidgety. Worried. In my thoughts.

And I will likely spend the rest of my life experiencing these things…

But these moments will diminish…

The more I remain ‘centred.’

Being centred is a momentary thing; as is being fidgety and distracted.

It is fleeting. It doesn’t define who we are — it defines our behaviour in a second.

Being ‘centred’ is a way of being that we can cultivate — leaning more and more into it so that it becomes an increasingly ubiquitous feature of our experience.

I am centred in some moments, and not in others. But I am becoming more centred overall.

The less centred we are, the more we are swayed by life’s frenzy, and the more we struggle.

The more I move to be centred, the more exhilarating of an adventure life becomes.

This is who I am when I am centred

I am less attached to the ‘significance’ of my thoughts and feelings.

I see these as part of the human condition — I don’t feel the need to stew, figure it all out, or panic when a feeling or a scary thought arises.

I allow them to reveal themselves like passing sign-posts, before floating by.

Just because I have a thought doesn’t mean I should do anything with it. I can choose in an instant, and let go.

I am free.

I know that I am the observer of these thoughts; I am not my thoughts.

As such, I am connected to the spirit that runs through all things, behind labels. It’s fun to know that I can connect with this energy, rather than the power of fear.

I am conscious, not self-conscious. I am ok to relinquish those things about me that I was hiding.

Triggers are opportunities to grow, not to defend myself.

I am connected, instead of separate.

My energy is less scattered because I am not a slave to my emotions and my ruminations; even my visions.

I go slow to notice things, and because I move slow, the world slows to meet me, and it all seems rather easy. Because I am more conscious and engaged, I can then speed up.

I sense the gaps in things. The silence behind the noise. The meaning behind the words. The surface-level intricacies and details too.

I am better able to ease into not knowing.

I live in awareness, and I know that awareness is all I need to be my most optimal at this moment.

I have accepted that the past could not have happened any other way.

I set goals and create plans that I use to inform an excited energy in me right now. These visions speak to my potential. But I don’t tie my egoic sense of self-worth to their attainment.

What happens happens, and I keep moving.

I relax into the conversation because I no longer try to impress or predict. I am given what I need in the gaps created by the stillness of thought.

Any temptation to ruminate is soon discharged by redirecting attention to what is right in front of me.

I know that if I can become centred with the small things, I can become centred with the big things.

Everything is an opportunity to play the game of returning to consciousness.

To being alive.

If these ideas stirred something in you, I’d love to read your comment below. I read them all.

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Alex