I’ve been sitting on a cushion for over a decade now. Mostly in the mornings before I head out to do my rounds in the local reserves, usually with a proper cup of tea while the Manchester rain hammers the window. There’s always this moment, usually around minute twenty, where the mental chatter just… thins out. It feels like a slow rinse. I’ve never really thought of it as “purification” in some woo-woo sense, but now I’m wondering if the ancients were just describing fluid mechanics without the MRI machines. The researchers tracked glymphatic system clearance and CSF pulsation patterns, and the data aligns with what happens when you actually drop your attentional bandwidth and just breathe.

It’s funny how Carl Jung talked about the unconscious as a sea or a deep reservoir. He wasn’t being purely poetic. If meditation literally alters the flow of fluid around our neural tissue, it makes sense why sustained practice eventually brings buried material to the surface. The water moves, the sediment shifts. You don’t get to meditate for ten years without bumping into your own shadow work. It’s not magic. It’s biology meeting psychology.

From a tarot angle, this tracks with the Water suit and the High Priestess archetype. Both are tied to intuition, subterranean currents, and the slow unveiling of what’s hidden. When I pull those cards, I’m not channeling ghosts. I’m probably just sitting still long enough for my brain to flush out the noise and let deeper pattern-recognition kick in. Cognitive biases like confirmation bias usually run the show, but in that quiet state, the default mode network quiets down. You actually see things clearer.

If you’re struggling to get past the initial restlessness, try anchoring on the exhale. Not forcing it. Just lengthening it slightly until the rhythm feels natural. It takes weeks to notice the shift, but eventually, the mental static just drains away. Happy to hear if anyone else has noticed similar physical sensations during long sits.