A few of you have asked me to say more about how I meditate! Here it is.
I tend to think that meditation is still “new” for me, but if I look back through old journals, I see notes about trying to create a habit of it that go years back.
If I squint, I can picture myself sitting on a pillow on the floor of my old upstairs office, sweatily trying not to think any thoughts, trying not to get distracted by the morning sounds of Syd and Larry getting ready downstairs. I remember feeling frustrated when I felt like I wasn’t successful, or panicked sometimes, trapped in a mental tunnel.
Some things that helped me chill out and create my own relationship with meditation:
Using guided meditations from an app at first (I used Stop, Breathe & Think for a long time) - I don’t know any better way to learn how to frame this time or talk to yourself while meditating at first
Yumi Sakugawa’s book There Is No Right Way to Meditate
Pema Chödrön’s book How to Meditate (although I have no idea if I follow anything she said anymore? ILU Pema)
When I was creating my early-morning routine last fall, I spent a couple weeks just typing “meditation” into YouTube and trying different types to see what stuck. You could do this forever!
And, I am sorry to report, just doing it every day. I know that’s the answer to every “how do I create this habit” question and it sucks AND it’s true. Eventually your body and mind will start to desire the good effects of the thing, and then it doesn’t suck anymore, it’s something you not only need but want
As with most things, and certainly with habits, the reality of what I do isn’t glamorous. I wake up very early because I love to. I stumble downstairs to my current office in the pre-sunrise darkness. I don’t turn on any lights. I sit cross-legged in a chair and usually wrap myself up in a cheap Ikea blanket because I’m cold after getting out of bed. There’s a big window in the room, high up on the wall, and outside, a streetlight that shines on the dark tree branches. Usually, Festus jumps up on the cat tree, and we look out of the same window in silence.
I hit the side button on my phone to activate Siri and I say, set a timer for: and then I say eight minutes, nine minutes, twelve minutes. Whatever comes out. I don’t think about it. She’s like, yes. Let’s do this.
Then: THE MAGIC BEGINS!!!!!!!!
jk
A few things can happen.
I almost always take a few deep breaths, breathing into my stomach. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth.
Sometimes I breathe in good things and imagine myself exhaling my worries.
Sometimes I close my eyes and imagine my calm, clear mind as a blue sky. My thoughts are clouds, but cute lil puffy white ones. When they float in, I imagine them dissolving into the blue.
Sometimes I imagine an energetic cord burrowing down into the earth, rooting my body, transferring warmth and groundedness. (This is adapted from Yumi.)
Sometimes I observe my thoughts and then burrow into the mental quiet beneath them.
Sometimes I literally hug myself and just sit there with myself all wrapped up.
Usually, I look out at the trees and take my calming breaths. My mind wanders and I gently nudge it back. Then my timer goes off.
THAT, the wandering, is the thing I used to panic over, this feeling of “failing” at focus or blankness or whatever I was trying to achieve. But the wandering, and then reminding, IS meditation. The nudge IS the practice. The gentle voice you use.
Sometimes my timer goes off and I realize all I actually did was sit there thinking my same damn thoughts. That’s OK. That’s OK! Like I said. There is no failure. Only practice.
I love you,
Lindsey