My journey with meditation has been a bit of a rocky road. It has been messy and imperfect. I can see first-hand how taking time for myself really helps—but despite knowing this, I still find it difficult.
I first started meditating when I was 20. It was recommended to me by my therapist as a way to ground myself and cope with my anxiety. I found it really helpful. I was able to sit and concentrate on my breathing and my body. My mind would wander off a lot, but I was okay with this. It gave me a chance to actually see what was going on instead of keeping it all inside.
Because this was so successful, I decided to do an online 30-day meditation challenge. I thought, Hey, this would be a great idea! I can meditate and take the time to sit and breathe every day, and then everything will be better. I set my alarm for 10 p.m. each day to meditate.
At first, this was great. I felt as if I was looking after myself, acknowledging my needs—and if I was able to do the full 30 days, it would become a habit. But as the days passed, I realized I was meditating because I had set myself a challenge, not because I was feeling any positive benefits. I was really frustrated with myself. Needless to say, when the 30 days were over, I felt deflated. Not only had I not completed the challenge, but I had turned this “magical fix” into something competitive.
It took me a few more years to get back into meditating. It actually happened by chance. I was in university, and we were asked to complete an 8-week meditation course. At first, I was apprehensive. I knew what had happened last time. I felt as if I had “failed” at meditation before—but at least no one really knew.
This time, however, I was meditating in person and with a group of my classmates. The first few weeks were really challenging for me. I was quiet and rather withdrawn. But gradually, over time, I opened up. I realized that the idea of meditating isn’t always to address our thoughts and think and think and think, but rather, sometimes it’s about letting thoughts be and simply pass.
Of course, I still had weeks where I would ruminate and spend the morning thinking about my long to-do lists. But I also felt as if I was getting a little more headspace.
One of the pieces of homework I was given during the course was to leave my phone at home and travel without music. At the time, I rode a bike to university. I remember one day cycling and hearing all the birds and the sound of my bike. It was very peaceful, and I felt calm and aware. I spoke to the leader of the course, and he said that that is meditating.
It was different from my initial idea of meditation, but it seemed to work for me. The more I tried it, the more I seemed to appreciate the silence.
I tried to keep this up as much as I could, but life got in the way. I stopped making meditation a priority. I needed my phone for different things, and it became harder to leave it at home. Again, I took a break from meditating.
Over the last year, I’ve been thinking a lot about meditation. It’s something I would like to reintroduce into my life and make a habit. I feel more open and ready for it now. Meditation is something that adds a lot to my life—but it has also been an imperfect journey, full of relief and frustrations.
I guess the lesson I’ve learned is that when I eventually return to meditation, I can maybe welcome it, knowing that it may not be a forever habit, but rather something that can really help when I’m ready.