Mindfulness Meditation!

Mindfulness meditation technique encourages the practitioner to observe wandering thoughts as they drift through the mind. The intention is not to get involved with the thoughts or to judge them, but simply to be aware of each mental note as it arises.

Through mindfulness meditation, you can see how your thoughts and feelings tend to move in particular patterns. Over time, you can become more aware of the human tendency to quickly judge experience as “good” or “bad” (“pleasant” or “unpleasant”). With practice, an inner balance develops.

In some schools of meditation, students practice a combination of concentration and mindfulness. Many disciplines call for stillness — to a greater or lesser degree, depending on the teacher.

As much as it pained me to admit, meditation was not changing my life. I’d been curious about it for years, imagining that I would magically morph from a Type A, prone to loud laughter and occasional drama, into an ethereal entity whose “problems” would dissolve in the face of age-old wisdom. I would wear long, flowy clothes and speak in a gentle whisper. I would never sweat. Or swear.

But because my goals for meditation seemed so distant and lofty, I put it off, waiting for a time in my life when it seemed achievable.

 

1:- Great expectations

When I had my first child, I tried meditation in hopes of reducing my anxiety about my abilities as a mom. I tried being still. I tried focusing on my breathing. But in less than 30 seconds, I’d be fast asleep. And when I awoke, rather than feeling relaxed, my blood pressure skyrocketed. I had dirty dishes to do, smelly sleepers to wash, a baby to mother. I put it off again until I thought I could do it and stay awake at the same time.

Meanwhile my curiosity deepened. I read books about meditation. I grilled people who went on meditation retreats. I bought candles. Buddha figures. Meditation CDs. I became cozy with Jon Kabat-Zinn and Deepak Chopra, whose books on meditating kept me company late at night in bed. I trained for meditation the way a runner prepares for a marathon. I was going to be an Olympic meditator … once I got started.

2:- Mutinous spine

Three children, two Buddhas, a half-dozen CDs, any number of meditation supplies, and 11 years later, I felt ready. I even had a gauzy skirt that would suit the new me. I prepared my meditation table. Lit some candles. Sat down, crossed my legs and closed my eyes.

Ouch. My legs no longer bent that way. Hmmm. I remembered reading that sitting cross-legged isn’t crucial, so I opened one eye and stretched my legs straight out in front of me.

Closing my eyes once again, I sat still. I’m sure I looked earthy in my skirt …. But rather than the beautiful straight-backed posture of the yoga-gurus I envied, I could feel my back bending like a question mark. “Sit tall,” I silently ordered my spine. It refused to cooperate for more than a minute, at which point I would teeter on my pillow like a drunk Buddha.

3:- Thought onslaught

Yoga slowly helped me train my spine not to cave at the slightest exertion, and I felt ready to try again. My position seemed perfect. I lit my candles and focused on my Buddha, then closed my eyes.

“Did you remember to pay your property taxes?” asked my brain. I imagined a broom sweeping away the question. Then, like that crazy whack-a-gopher game at amusements parks, another popped up. “Isn’t it your turn to prepare snack for soccer practice?” And another. I sighed.

4:-Giving up — and getting the point

Then I came across the words of meditation teacher Rodney Yee, who advised us neophytes to “just sit.” It’s that simple, he insisted. Give up the expectations. Give up the need for a certain meditation experience.

Really? It flew in the face of my goal-oriented personality. Skeptical, I nonetheless gave it a whirl. And guess what happened?

While I haven’t given up my Type A propensities completely, I nonetheless am now less inclined to let loose with a four-letter expletive. I’ve learned to listen to my body (though it’s prone to complaining). I’m very very slowly learning to simply be in the moment.