My Path to Meditation
My mind has always raced at a breakneck speed, often churning through the same path repeatedly. I liken it to an MRI tube when there is relentless noise and bombardment. Sometimes the only release was sleep, until I discovered meditation.
Until this year I had never even thought about meditating. As I was sitting at Healing Arts and speaking to my massage therapist, I noticed the beautiful set of cushions arranged around a living bamboo plant in the adjoining room and asked about the use of that room. She said that a group of people met weekly to sit in silent meditation.
I was intrigued with the idea and in the spirit of trying new things which has recently become so much a part of my being, I came on a Wednesday night to meditate. My memory of my first sit was how very long 40 minutes seemed and how uncomfortable it was. But there was something seductive about the quiet candle light. My mind responded reluctantly but with pleasure at the opportunity to rest while I was conscious.
I then began the process of learning to sit, that will probably go on for the rest of my existence. The first step was to become comfortable so that physical pain would not dominate my thinking. I purchased a meditation stool and added a cushy cover of ancient paisley quilting. I then started to pay attention to my breath in a way that I had never before. Slow it down. Count 1 in, 2 out, 3 in, 4 out, etc. until thoughts intervened with the counting process. When that happened, start over. There were days when I could never get past 20 without having to start over.
Some sits were better than others. And occasionally I began to reach that sublime state where you lose consciousness of your physical body and simply float above it. The sign that this has happened is when the bell announcing the end of the sit startles you. What a tremendous feeling!
I have recently incorporated an introduction to each sit, whereby I go through a growing list of people for whom I am eternally grateful, including my fellow meditators. I then feel their collective support as I start tossing aside thoughts and slowing everything down.
Meditation has become an addiction. The calm of an early morning sit pervades my day. The release of an evening sit helps me sleep soundly.
I have considered meditating on my own, but for now think that I need the feeling of sitting together with others. I am most successful when someone else is ringing the bell and I don’t have to be responsible for anything except breathing.
My mind still races most of the time. But for 3 hours a week, I coerce it into slowing down as I breathe in peaceful air and let everything go. The breath has come to represent the essence of life.
Until this year I had never even thought about meditating. As I was sitting at Healing Arts and speaking to my massage therapist, I noticed the beautiful set of cushions arranged around a living bamboo plant in the adjoining room and asked about the use of that room. She said that a group of people met weekly to sit in silent meditation.
I was intrigued with the idea and in the spirit of trying new things which has recently become so much a part of my being, I came on a Wednesday night to meditate. My memory of my first sit was how very long 40 minutes seemed and how uncomfortable it was. But there was something seductive about the quiet candle light. My mind responded reluctantly but with pleasure at the opportunity to rest while I was conscious.
I then began the process of learning to sit, that will probably go on for the rest of my existence. The first step was to become comfortable so that physical pain would not dominate my thinking. I purchased a meditation stool and added a cushy cover of ancient paisley quilting. I then started to pay attention to my breath in a way that I had never before. Slow it down. Count 1 in, 2 out, 3 in, 4 out, etc. until thoughts intervened with the counting process. When that happened, start over. There were days when I could never get past 20 without having to start over.
Some sits were better than others. And occasionally I began to reach that sublime state where you lose consciousness of your physical body and simply float above it. The sign that this has happened is when the bell announcing the end of the sit startles you. What a tremendous feeling!
I have recently incorporated an introduction to each sit, whereby I go through a growing list of people for whom I am eternally grateful, including my fellow meditators. I then feel their collective support as I start tossing aside thoughts and slowing everything down.
Meditation has become an addiction. The calm of an early morning sit pervades my day. The release of an evening sit helps me sleep soundly.
I have considered meditating on my own, but for now think that I need the feeling of sitting together with others. I am most successful when someone else is ringing the bell and I don’t have to be responsible for anything except breathing.
My mind still races most of the time. But for 3 hours a week, I coerce it into slowing down as I breathe in peaceful air and let everything go. The breath has come to represent the essence of life.
posted by Barbara at 1:53 PM
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