This is a guided visual meditation of which I am fond. I use this often to reset myself or when things feel overwhelming. I developed it over time after listening to a discussion on a podcast (possibly Duncan Trussell or Pete Holmes). Unfortunately, I cannot recall where I heard the initial discussion that led to this, but I can’t claim it as entirely original.
Ideally Dear Reader, you would be able to sit with your eyes closed and listen to this being recited while your imagination took you on this trip. Alas, if you are too curious to set that up with a fellow space traveler, you may read this slowly and mindfully to yourself. Stop often to allow yourself to drift into the story and resume when ready. Proceed to launch when ready!
[Note: this is as close to scientifically accurate as a I can get with doing no actual research, so step out of your thinking/discriminating mind and don’t Neil-DeGrasse-Tyson me, please!]
Start by taking 3 to 5 deep, slow, cleansing breaths. To set the scene, it is many years in the future and you are a certified explorer. You live on a giant mothership travelling into the far reaches of space. You receive orders every few days to zip off in your personal spacecraft, explore a section of space, and report your findings. Recently you learned of a solar system that you will be passing soon, devoid of all intelligent life, that your supervisors have deemed unworthy of exploration. Your curiosity has peaked as you could be the only living being to ever see this section of the universe!
That night, instead of retiring to your sleeping quarters, you slip past officials on duty at the launch pad and sneak your ship out without detection (not the first time you’ve done this to be honest, you have a bit of reputation for this in fact). You fly the coordinates to this unexplored solar system, and what you find does not disappoint! You buzz past dwarf planets to see the imposing and colorful gas giant planets of this system. You briefly contend with an asteroid belt (the navigation system can do this but you prefer the thrill of manually dodging these space rocks) and come out of it to find the lush and beautiful mid-sized planets closer to the solar system’s star.
One planet looks particularly earth-like and you decide one last close up look before heading back to the mothership won’t put you at any greater risk of detection from the grumpy guards and stuck up supervisors. You descend for a closer look, but fail to account for the planet’s second moon’s gravity and lose control of your ship. The voice of your old mentor rings in your head, “A properly filed flight plan would have accounted for that additional gravity.” Your crisis flight skills kick in and you set yourself on a descent path that ensures you will not burn up in the planet’s atmosphere. You crash with a thud, secured by full body airbags, you sustain no injuries in the crash landing.
You begin your data gathering by incasing yourself in your spacesuit. Unlike the clunky models of our time, this is basically an invisible bubble that surrounds you supporting your life functions in hostile conditions while allowing full sensory interactions with the environment (i.e. you can taste, smell, feel, hear, and see the space around you unobstructed as if you were home on earth or the mothership). The news isn’t good. Your ship is too damaged to fly without replacing many parts that aren’t available to you. The communication system was destroyed in the impact meaning no S.O.S. messages to the mothership. You realize you told no one you were even leaving much less where you were going. There is no hope of rescue or escape. This planet is home until your space suit fails and it becomes your final resting place. You have no way to estimate when the spacesuit will fail. It could be hours, days, weeks, or even months. Sadness overwhelms you realizing this is where your story ends.
But you have a sudden jolt of excitement. You don’t know when the spacesuit will stop supporting your life, but you realize you have that much time to explore this incredible new world! You look and see that most magnificent colors that you have never seen in nature before. You seem to have landed on a beach. You see crystal-clear liquid in a large body that looks like a sea. There is small sea-life swimming in it. There is a lush jungle with plants and trees you have never seen anything like, not even in your educational programs about earth and other life-sustaining planets. You vow to learn everything you can and experience everything you can on this strange beautiful planet that is your final home.
[Pause for 2 to 3 deep, cleansing breaths.]
Now . . . realize . . . that is exactly what you are. You are a space explorer, blasted into a foreign universe, in a failing spacesuit. You are on a rock hurtling into to space, and you will most likely die here. You can either lament that daily or you can realize you have whatever time is left in your spacesuit to experience everything there is to experience! Everything is available to you during this small blip in history you seem to find yourself. Nothing is good or bad, it is simply experience, and (if you read the previous post) you understand that the chances of you existing in this moment to experience it are astronomically against you, but you beat the odds anyway! So go make the best of it and remember to Be Here Now!
Two Shadows 
