Meditation: Fascinating, Excruciating.
It’s become evident to me that meditation is both fascinating and excruciating at the same time.
For one, suddenly (and truly not so suddenly, but rather incrementally) the spinning mind becomes illuminated. Meaning to say, somewhere along the way, I began to see my thoughts rather than be my thoughts. Fascinating.
Along with this illumination comes the awareness of just how many damn negative thoughts I have. How my default mode network has been hardwired - for I'm guessing, generations at minimum - to assume the worst possible scenario is playing out. For me, to me, about me. Excruciating.
Then, there's the simultaneous awareness that I'm not my thoughts, AND, I cannot make my thoughts stop. The biggest myth of meditation is that you stop thinking, or you quiet your mind for good. Is this possible? I’ve had a tiny taste. An amuse bouche at best. Mostly, I've read about it. And what I've read is that those who attain enlightenment (or samadhi or nirvana or boddhi citta or whatever you call it) cannot adequately describe it with words because it is the diametrical opposite of intellect. It's pure being. So they say.
My current meditation practice looks nothing like it did when I began in 2017. It used to be me, my little notebook, my little cushion, sitting when I could find 5-10 minutes between work meetings to pause. I’d put my phone timer on, close my eyes, and hope for the best. Then I’d jot down how many minutes I’d make it to, maybe pull a tarot card or two, maybe have a complete meltdown alone in my space. It really depended on the day!
No, I wouldn’t say that since then, my meditation has improved whatsoever; at least not in a linear way. It feels like I haven’t gotten better at it at all. Sometimes I forget why I started. Other times, I wonder why I continue to try. Paying attention to all that crap in my head? It’s excruciating at best.
And that’s when I remember. I remember how different my inner landscape used to feel all the time. A sense of constant chaos, self doubt, anger, low grade dread, and judgement. Fear ruled my decision making. So while my meditation practice actually looks quite similar (just add a little app called Insight Timer in place of my little notebook), I recall how vastly the quality of my inner world has shifted. I’m observing how my outer world, at various points, began to mirror that shift.
It’s not that these emotional states have *POOF* disappeared, no no no. Meditation may have felt like a cure all in the beginning for me, but the longer I’ve stuck with it, the more challenging it has become. Rather than wiping out what some call “negative” thoughts or emotions, it’s more that meditation has enabled me to become acutely aware of them. With that awareness comes a responsibility to discern the best response. With practice in sitting, I’ve slowly created space to choose my response.
On my current path I've been invited to listen more deeply. Not to clear the mind, not to quiet the thoughts, but rather to sift through it all. Notice which parts are seemingly loud and urgent. Which parts are soft and subtle and supportive. Which parts tend to go mostly unnoticed, yet show up in my outer landscape boldly.
Meditation is the non linear path. It’s the path of the spiral. Constantly moving, changing, shifting. What was up will become down, what felt absolutely true will dissolve in time. And so how do I adapt and flow and become more malleable to its gifts?
I’m learning, with the space that meditation gives me, to move and share and speak only in ways that feel authentic. To say less. To do less. And to *be* more.
Fascinating. And excruciating.
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photo credit to the amazing Sara Davis (https://www.instagram.com/saradavisstudio/)
