Finally, God has granted you an interview. You have been looking forward to this moment for as long as the sky has been blue. You have imagined what you might say and ask for, the way God will speak to you, how everything will look and feel and what it will mean for your future life. Now the hour is given, the moment approaches. You are full of reverence, anticipation, and eagerness that you will fulfill whatever plans God might reveal for your life.
You are invited to hang your coat on a rack outside the door, and ushered into a most beautiful, luminous room. God arrives and you are overwhelmed with the sweetest feeling of closest intimacy: absolute oneness. You do not actually see God: God surrounds and envelops you. All is silent thrill.
In sweet words and velvet tones, God praises all your good qualities and capacities, appreciates all your good deeds and intentions, and is about to tell what you have been pining to hear: the plan for your future life. At this exact moment, your mobile phone rings loudly and jarringly. It is in the pocket of your coat outside the door, where you cannot reach it! God smiles, waits for the ringing to finish, and resumes. And then the phone rings again, and again. Each time God starts to speak, your phone rings with a different, louder and more annoying ring tone. In a wistful sigh, God vanishes.
The mobile phone is our mind. If we do not switch off our mind completely before entering our meditation room, it may remain quiet for a while, but is bound to disturb us and wreck our meditation at precisely the moment we most need it to remain still and silent.