As a therapist, I coach a lot of people on how to develop a meditation practice because the research shows compelling benefits for health, mood and over all life satisfaction. Many of the clients I see are familiar with meditation in practice but not generally in habit. They tell me they know they should but don’t. Often the notion of being alone with their thoughts and feelings churns up resistance, a belief it will be boring, or that they won’t be able to stop ruminating on their problems. Some fear they might start to cry and be unable to stop. Or, they’re too tired and don’t have time. Instead, they pick up their phone, turn on the TV, and have a drink to unwind. Recent studies from Harvard have demonstrated that people would rather give themselves painful electric shocks than sit alone in solitude for fifteen minutes. Yet if those same few minutes were spent mindfully, the results would astound.
I didn’t arrive at a mindfulness meditation practice because of well-being and well-adjustedness. On the contrary, I came digging in my heels, pulling, pushing, trying to gain traction any way I could to disentangle myself from my feelings and thoughts. My first exposure to meditation at age 20 was a simple sitting meditation involving breath counting. I bored easily and didn’t give it another try. Years later I went to my first yoga class and felt embarrassed when a friend commiserated with the instructor about novice attendees coming to an advanced class instead of a beginner’s class. I thought I wouldn’t return but I did. I liked the feeling of being centered in my body and decided it didn’t matter if there were poses I couldn’t do. I didn’t grasp yoga as a meditation practice. It felt good so I did it.
One day a friend suggested I come into relationship with another person sitting in meditation with us.
What was happening during this time? I read and explored ideas. I began using visualization and affirmation techniques while lying in bed at night, because I sensed my intuition was powerful and I could harness it. I would spend an entire day’s wage on an acupuncture session because it was the only time I felt truly relaxed and at peace. But still I didn’t meditate and I’m not sure I had heard the word mindfulness, or if I did; I didn’t pay it any attention. When I did pay attention to the various practitioners advising meditation, I only listened with one ear. My concept of someone who meditated was of some kind of pretender who probably meditated a lot less than they let on, or a dogmatic follower blindly adhering to what some guru taught. Anyone who told me *this* was the one *truth* was put in a row with all other truthsayers.
Instead of sitting I took up doing, but somehow I was always brought back to myself and a palpable urge for more peace and self acceptance. I began to sit, though I found it difficult. Here was a burn, there an unbearable tension, here a feeling of intense sadness. And the memories: obsessive memories loaded with anger and shame. In trying to relax and empty my mind I encountered bands of resistance tightly wrapped around my organs.
One day a friend suggested I *come into relationship* with another person sitting in meditation with us. I did so and was flooded with anxiety, realizing I didn’t trust this friend who left the room saying she felt she wasn’t wanted. Something else also happened: I began to shed things I no longer needed. I broke up with my boyfriend. Even the few extra pounds I carried effortlessly melted away. I felt more ease. I began to meditate more frequently and when I encountered resistance, whether bodily, mental or emotional, I practiced coming into relationship with it, letting it be, allowing rather than resisting. It was hard some days, but my practice deepened and I began to experience bliss.
I still forget to sit sometimes. Things start to pile up until I remember and tune in. Then I’m good for a while. I’ll probably never be a devotee to any one creed or discipline but I dearly hope I always wake up and remember to sit with myself and enjoy the truest relationship that can be. You may find you want to try this approach. Notice your thoughts, feelings and sensations as they arise. Try and allow them to be without judging them right or wrong, good or bad. Gently tell yourself, speaking directly to the sensations: I’m coming into relationship with my worry about money; I’m coming into relationship with my hope for good news; I’m coming into relationship with my tense shoulders, etc. This is an easy way to begin meditation as it gives your mind something meaningful to do with its urge to process and think. You may find that as your brain no longer perceives sensations as alien, it loosens up its need to maintain hypervigilence and observation, and a deeper letting go may occur.