I had a therapist who a few years ago suggested that I try meditation to help deal with stress and anxiety.
"Oh, I've tried that before," I said. "I'm not good at it."
"There's no good or bad when it comes to meditation," she replied. "You were doing it right, whether you feel like it was bad or not."
I didn't have much experience with meditation -- and really, I still don't. I took a Buddhism class in college to fulfill a religion requirement, and we did a walking meditation one day that involved walking in slow circles around the courtyard of the campus chapel barefoot, eyes down, clearing our minds. I had moments of clarity -- thanks to the warm breeze or the sunshine or the soft sigh of fallen magnolia petals under my feet -- but it was mostly business as usual in my brain. During yoga classes (to fulfill a PE requirement, although I really did come to love it) I caught snippets of that mindfullness. The slow, repetitive stretching distracted the active parts of my brain enough so that I would find myself slipping into something close to a meditative state (probably the closest I've ever been) for brief seconds.
After graduation and while living in Boston, I read Eat Pray Love. Criticisms about privilege et al. aside, at the very least it restored the idea that I should maybe give meditation another whirl. (I was particularly in awe of Elizabeth Gilbert's ability to sit still and keep meditating while being bitten by mosquitos in India. Now that's control.) I had a stressful commute back then (holler at me if you hate the Green Line too!), a very challenging job as associate editor of a newspaper, and Kristie and I were in the thick of figuring out the future of our relationship. I needed balance, and I needed it badly.
So one afternoon, I borrowed a mantra from the book -- om nama shivaya, which very loosely means you're bowing to God and that God is within you (I took it to mean honoring the quiet that must be within me somewhere) -- and sat on the floor of my tiny bedroom, back against my mattress, facing the windows. My room faced Commonwealth Ave., and if you've ever been to Boston, you know how loud the T can be. Needless to say, it was kind of difficult to focus -- especially to focus on not focusing. I put my hands on my knees, closed my eyes, and started to meditate.
My inner dialogue went something like this:
Okay, this isn't so bad, just breathe in and out...wait...does this count as thinking? Ugh, yes. I'm doing this wrong. I need to stop thinking. Stop. Thinking. Om nama shivaya... I wonder how much money it cost to travel to Italy, India, and Indonesia. OMG stop! Om nama shivaya... Ugh that fucking train is so loud. I'm definitely doing this wrong. Or maybe nobody knows how to meditate, and they just say it's really great, but in reality all of them struggle like this? That would be funny. Okay, okay. Stop giggling. You're in your room by yourself and that's creepy. Om nama shivaya...
And so on.
Maybe that was meditating, but it didn't feel like it. Nor did it feel very productive.
Anyway, lately I've been feeling the need to give meditation another shot. I need to loosen my grip on a few things in my life and let them happen instead of wishing I could exert more control, more force. I can feel the tension of desperately willing things into existence settling in my internal organs. There must be better pursuits for which I can use that emotional capacity, and I have to let go.
Yesterday after I got home from work, I set a timer on my iPhone for 10 minutes, sat down on the couch, and closed my eyes. I slowed my breathing. I listened to the rain outside. And I thought about everything.
What to make for dinner, whether or not the dog needed to go out, how much time had passed, the lyrics to "Perfume" by Britney Spears (give me a break, it was on the radio), writing blog posts. But this time I practiced acknowledging each distracting thought (or song), and then gently sent it away, one after another. The 10 minutes went by a lot faster than I thought it would, and I felt a little more rested and calm after I opened my eyes (and found this). Even though it was a little frustrating to sit and "do nothing," and I didn't exactly reach nirvana, it felt like a good mental exercise.
Do you meditate? Do you find it frustrating or rewarding? And do you have any tips?
PS - Self-care days, Magic Carpet yoga mats, and how to love winter.
