Ommmmmmmmygod

Until five years ago, the many and varied attempts I’d made to meditate regularly over a period of at least 25 years were all eventually abandoned in confusion or despair. Then I found Bliss More: How to Succeed in Meditation Without Really Trying (discussed in an earlier post) and thought I should check it out. I mean, what’s not to like about not having to try? I had so much on my plate then that I was all about not trying.

Another example of the Universe (and my beloved public library) providing just what I needed at the right time, because I suddenly got it. I didn’t need a certain position, or mantra, or routine to effectively practice meditation. And with the exception maybe of Thich Nhat Hanh, nobody’s mind instantly became a blank slate when they sat down to meditate. The crazy thoughts produced by my monkey mind were not an indication that I was hopeless; they were kind of the whole point. Noticing them, letting them go, at least temporarily, and returning my focus to my breath, or a certain sound, was what was supposed to be happening. That’s why it’s called practice.

Over the following four years my practice was haphazard. There were periods where I’d sit every day and periods where I’d sit only when the spirit moved me. (In hindsight I can see that I’d find myself meditating mostly in surrender; when bombs were exploding in the shit factory and there was nowhere to take cover.) It’s only for the past year or so that I’ve incorporated meditation into my daily morning routine. And while I’ve been slowly building up my endurance and gaining the incredible benefits of increased calm and insight, I can testify that those convoluted, crazy trains of thought will always be waiting to start their engines. Lest you think I exaggerate, following is a partial account of a recent session:

Breathing in deeply, placing my feet firmly on the floor, sitting up straight.

I’ll place my palms downward to ground me today.

Because boy, was I ungrounded yesterday. Why was that?

Let’s just breathe.

Oh, it was because I was so unsettled by that phone call.

Can’t believe they said that.

Let’s try to have some compassion. Let’s breathe.

OK compassion. But did they have compassion for me? Have they ever?

That time they spread their alternative truth about me?

Embarrassed me in front of everyone?

Hurt my child’s feelings?

My child. She has overcome so much. She’s my inspiration. And she just keeps on going despite continued obstacles.

I wonder what she’s going to do about school. Maybe she should…

That’s her journey; she’ll figure it out and you can offer input if she asks for it. Maybe breathe.

Two deep breaths.

She was doing so well living on her own. And I LOVED visiting her. I wonder if she misses it. I do love having her here, though. That first trip to check out New Orleans was golden. And the couple from Texas I drank with in the hotel bar while she recovered from the heat? One of those rare connections. I wonder what…

Yikes. How’d I get there? Let’s breathe. Maybe think about my intention for the day.

One deep breath.

Holy hell, it hurts to breathe. Are my ribs out of alignment again? Could my osteoporosis possibly have caused me to crack one? That reminds me, I should schedule that PT appointment. Or maybe a massage? Both. OK, imagine some pink light bathing away the pain.

About two minutes of focused breathing and visualization follow.

Omg. I just figured out the perfect ending for that chapter I’m stuck on. See, this is why I sit here.

No, it’s not, jackass. You sit here because you need to empty your mind and make room for the pause.

No name calling. You also sit here to develop more compassion for yourself and others. Maybe I need to meditate on that: may I be safe, may I be happy, may I be healthy, may I live with ease.

Two more minutes of focused breathing and silent repetition follow. And then the cycle starts all over again.

And this is just one session. The sheer volume of random thoughts, from warm and fuzzy gratitude to paranoid defensiveness, from minutiae of daily living to the most over-the-top daydreams, is incalculable.

So why do I bother? When examined like this, my fledgling meditation practice can seem like a hilarious waste of time. But this doesn’t catch those rare, indescribable moments when I’m truly in the zone, or the peace I often feel after starting my day at least trying. Because the bottom line is, in addition to keeping a promise to myself (something I’ve found is a fabulous mood booster), I’m giving myself a sacred thirty minutes of total disconnection from the outside world. And who couldn’t use that?

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Let’s talk. Have you tried meditating? Do you do it regularly? What’s your favorite/least favorite thing about it? Is there a particular style of meditation you’re partial to? Something new you’d like to incorporate in your practice?

I’ll go first: I’m attending some in-person, guided group meditations as they seem to provide both focus and accountability.