I came to meditation by accident. During adolescence, like many I struggled with emotional control. I was angry. I was horny. I was frustrated. I was… a teenager? I don’t know how we all get through it, I guess we don’t all make it to the other side.
I remember starlit nights,
best just before the monsoons. Climbing atop the fort in our backyard; I sought
privacy and quiet in the moments when my rage, sadness, and hormonal confusion
peaked. Sitting cross-legged, staring up at the sky, trying to get a grip on my
roiling emotions.
After years of this habit,
I began to find certain subtleties within myself. Real or imagined, who can
say? When on the topic of thought itself, it is impossible to disentangle truth
from one's perceived truth. I strongly felt, and feel to this day, energy
within my body. I learned to bring it to my hands, and could feel them warming
as I focused. I would go through my day with this thought in my mind,
practicing applications. Taking the energy to my muscles, focusing on physical
tasks, I used this to empower myself. Perception or reality? Perhaps that is
irrelevant in the face of mental boundaries.
Practitioners of
eastern-ish philosophy gave me encouragement. Though it was never attained, I
was told that with practice I could learn to emit such subtle forces as to
manipulate flame. This suggestion was made a professional in the healthcare
field. A woman who was well respected within my church, and viewed by my
parents as possessing great faith and wisdom. All this to say, trustworthy. I
still can’t put out a candle; have yet to see it done in a way that gets past
the bullshit detector.
I can however sit quietly and slowly gain control of my mind. Depression is a
mainstay in my life. I have less anxiety than some, though I experience
significant post-socialization anxiety. Without the calm control exerted
through my meditations, I fear where and whom I would be today. I have two main
mantras, though they have shifted over time.
“I am the
mountain and my thoughts are the clouds.”
When my mind is racing,
panicked, unfocused, I am unable to keep away my own self-judgement. Every
mistake, misstep, and misspoken word pounds at the doors, whirling. This cycle
can become a tornado, tearing up the foundations as the vortex gains strength.
A mind can be its own worst enemy. I use the mantra above to ground myself,
contextualizing my whirlwind. Storms pass. Winds fade. Mountains are carved by
them, yes, but they remain mountains after the sky has cleared all the same.
Winds lose their speed, and the mountain passively watches and waits.
I am the mountain and my thoughts are the clouds. I say it slowly, one half on inhalation, the next as I exhale. I
find it helpful.
I have another mantra, and
while the mountain was given to me by another, this I developed independently.
Perhaps it was borrowed, and my mind did not attribute the source. I like to
use it when I am feeling overwhelmed or stressed.
“I am the
stream, and life is the bank. I am the stream, and trials are the eddies and
currents. I am the stream, and the jabs of others are stones thrown in the
water.”
This is an adaptation for
the page. In truth, this mantra is a visualization. I don’t speak those words
to myself, not exactly. Maybe they could be formatted and reworked into
something worthy someday. The troubles others give me, or that I must overcome
for myself, are contextualized as shores and banks. Time, and my day to day are
eddies and currents. A hurtful word from another becomes a stone tossed
thoughtlessly into the stream. I am that stream. I move forward. I accept the
world around me, and I respond to its disruptions. However, I flow onwards. The
ripples pass, and it is not long downriver before the signs of the largest
stone have dissipated into nothingness. The river flows forward, unperturbed.
I am the
river.
Some days I cannot find the focus for a visualization. There are times when
words cycled on repeat fail. A breath in, slow, held slightly, a breath out,
slow and full. Repeat. Find a location within myself to focus attention on
while inhalation passes. The nose? Mouth? Chest? Wherever feels right. Find
another for exhalation. Repeat, slowly, until the mind settles. A quiet and
dark place helps me. Water falling across my body helps me. Being surrounded by
beauty has helped me. Some days I meditate on my body, moving from piece to
piece trying to bring it into a place of peace.
Acceptance. Radical
acceptance. Acknowledge reality and move forward. I have found helpful tools
from other sources over the years. Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) uses many
tools from eastern philosophy, and at its root the mindfulness movement follows
trails laid centuries ago.
An exercise I gained from
CBT and use occasionally helps with focus. Find an object. I have used both
physical objects I held as well as well remembered items held in my mind.
Describe that object, either in your head to yourself, or externally. Carefully.
Slowly. Every detail. What is its texture, its features, its shape, its color,
how does it feel in your hands, what does it make you think of, anything you
can bring to your thoughts. Focus and clarity.
I no longer have a fort in
my backyard. Today I spent hours and hours a week in the shower, wasting water,
cross-legged on the floor beneath the calming flow. I still move energy
throughout my body. Through the fragments of eastern-ish philosophy that I have
read or been taught, I now hold many points within my body that I move energy
to and fro. My crown, my minds eye, my throat, my heart, my stomach, my groin,
my feet. I use this focused energy as a form of meditation at times. Slowing
down other stimulus in my mind, deeply moving my thought into the energy I seek
to find within myself. Some days it is difficult, and I cannot muster it. Other
days the energy feels like it would burst through me like flame from within. At
times a scientifically measurable impact absolutely has to exist, I can feel it
so strongly and so vibrantly that temperature changes must exist. I have never
had the heart to test, I enjoy the thought that I might have just a hint of
super-power.
There is significant
literature on extreme abilities of master practitioners. Studies showing
incredible feats of temperature control, fasting, and iMRI results. Sadly, I am
capable of nothing so remarkable or noteworthy.
But it helps. It really
does. Spending the time to quiet myself. To gather my thoughts. To allow a rest
and respite from my worries. Slow down. Slow down your breathing, slow down
your body, slow down your thoughts. Once you have done it once or twice with
help and guidance, it can become another muscle to exercise. This is my first
advice to anyone else looking to develop meditation as a tool.
I know I will always grow and learn on my
path. I am not an expert, or even very knowledgeable on this subject compared
to those who devote their lives and religious experience to the practice.
Meditation is a tool, like so much else in our life it is up to each of us to
master its use and keep up its condition. I do not find meditation solves my
problems. In some ways, it makes them worse before it helps. It helps me to
uncover them, to unearth from my depths that which I would hide from myself, or
hide myself from. After I have a better understanding of myself more clearly, I
can involve my intellect and rationality in the finding the path forward.
Understanding yourself is one of life’s greatest challenges. Meditation helps
me. I hope you find your path as well.
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