One time, many years ago, I visited the island of Maui, and in the afternoons I strode out waste deep into the warm water and stood, feeling the water's warmth and softness while watching the birds fly overhead as the sun slowly descended into the sea. This was my daily ritual. Standing still in the warm soft water, as activity flowed all around. As I stood, deeper and deeper within I felt activity relax into a sense of vibrant aliveness without doing. I experienced being.
This is the same place meditation leads: deeper and deeper into an awareness of being.
As being, I have no name, no profession, no relationships, no family, no politics, and no country. Being can't be described. It is silent.
In the presence of this silence, I am aware all of the doings of life, and of the flowing breath, of thoughts, of vibrations in the body, and of a sense of aliveness. All of this activity swirls around the central core of silent-stillness, like winds swirl around the eye of a hurricane.
Yet, I am in this silence. I am this silence.
This is meditation.