I started a daily meditation practice last September, and 365 days later, with 5 days missed, I am now moving on to my second year.
I did it! I’ve been meditating consistently for a whole freaking year!
Last September, as I nervously considered embarking on this new practice, such a reality seemed utterly impossible. I was an irascible over-thinker. Always living in my head. My mind constantly tuning into a never ending stream of thought, analysis, worries or daydreaming no matter what was going on around me.
Now it seems weird not to start my day without it. On the good days. On the bad days. While bored. While stressed. While happy. While sad. Everyday I try to spend at least some time free of thought.
I still have an overactive Mind that rarely stops. But I am no longer that Mind. I am no longer a thinker. I am a Watcher. I am the something else that gets to watch that Mind fight for control and dominance of my conscious space. The Me that watched this process also got to see how scared my mind was of being replaced with any amount of conscious “being”, how desperate it was to prevent even a minute of internal quiet and peace. And that broke the spell.
My mind still has a lot of power over me. But it no longer feels all powerful, as in truth it never was. And it’s not me. I am not my stream of thought. The Me part is deeper. I am still far from “being” in it for any length of time. Or being the Me without constant thought. But in the ridiculous terror of my Mind when faced with the prospect of peace, I have felt the faint echo of that alternative.
That much has been very positive.
On the downside, I still find meditation very difficult, and less immediately rewarding than most of my other daily practices. Most times I do it out of a sense of commitment, and a belief in it’s subtler efficacy, rather than a desire for it’s benefits. In comparison dancing, self-affirmations, self-love, jogging, writing have all been more immediately rewarding. I meditate – but without passion – and sometimes it feels like the whole exercise is just symbolic. I do it because I don’t want to forget about the deeper me, but I don’t do it well enough to actually access it or move forward in that direction.
This is the only one of my practices that has actually reduced in complexity through the year. I’ve started with a commitment of 10 minutes twice a day, and have reduced it to 50 conscious breaths in the morning. And sometimes 25 more conscious breaths in the midday.
It’s not painful for me to do it that way, and it doesn’t take much will power. And I feel good about getting it done daily. But this reduction has neutered it’s true transformational power. I know I can go deeper in this direction. But I haven’t. Other practices seemed more rewarding and transformational, so I have focused on them instead and left my meditation practice as a footnote.
The other practices are also safer in a way. When I try to meditate deeper, and feel my body through a progressive relaxation exercise, the stronger push back is no longer from my Mind, but from my body. As I try to relax and feel myself in any capacity I am immediately overcome by rising nausea. Active resistance, conscious fear, towering anger… I can work with those. I can fight them. I can love them. I can hug them. But silent rising waves of nausea – THAT fills me with dread and powerlessness.
I pushed at this reality at the start of the year and then retreated. I’ve learned to keep my meditation in my head and via my hearing. I breathe and listen to my breath. I try not to think. I feel a bit lighter. I move on. But I don’t feel anything deeper. And the rest of my body still feels like a cold dark ocean that I can’t bear to step into.
Yeah… there’s some big shit there left for me to deal with in there. And my truncated safe meditation is both a capitulation and a reminder. It is the scared guard that I have posted at the gates of the chasm, shivering at the dank cold air blowing from inside.
Just last month I got some invitations to explore somatic and trauma therapy. To go deeper into what my body is holding onto from my childhood that I can’t reach with no amount of CBT and positive affirmations. To experience modes of healing outside of thought. To start puking some darkness. And I have talked with sexual abuse survivors in my men’s group and resonated with their experiences and modes of being more than I wished I did. And it was very scary.
I mostly avoid thinking about it. But I know that there is a lot of work to be done in that direction. And deeper body meditation will probably be a big part of it.
Not now. I don’t feel I have the strength, time, or peace of mind for any of that. I don’t have the desire. I don’t have the commitment. I would rather do anything else but this.
But I know it has to be done eventually. I’ll have to wade into the dark ocean. Accept the nausea and keep moving deeper.
Maybe even this coming year. Hopefully with a bit of a push from God. As it’s not getting any better on it’s own. And I know this underlies a lot of my shadows and issues that I am playing whack a mole with.
So in summary: Daily meditation has been useful and powerful, but I have mostly resisted exploring its deeper potential. Or more to the point – its highlights deeper healing that I still need to face.
