Hello Attachment My Old Friend

Dhyana - Meditation

We've almost arrived, friends. Last week we spoke of withdrawing the senses as a pathway to meditation, this week we speak to the act of meditating itself.

Here's where things get tricky, I think. Meditation looks and feels different for everybody. And whilst we have shared experiences and an understanding of common outcomes, each of us has an individual mind with individual lenses through which we view our internal and external world.

Because of that, in today's post, I will share what meditation has brought to my life because that's the only experience I have.

My meditation practice began back in 2012, although began is quite a lofty verb to describe my practice back then. Like most, I started with a guided meditation app. I would get as far as Day 15 and fall off the wagon, moving from app to app, from teacher to teacher. I liked guided meditations for allowing me time to slow down and concentrate on nothing much, but I struggled with trying to understand my own thought patterns and processes when I was actively listening to someone's voice. I found I was paying more attention to their words than I was myself, rarely allowing myself to drop deeper into silence as I was anticipating the next instruction on what I ''should'' be doing.

I'd heard so many reports of the benefits of meditation from stress relief to developing self-knowledge and awareness but I experienced few of these benefits from guided meditation. That's not to say guided meditation didn't have any benefit; I felt calm, relaxed and content during sessions and really enjoyed a calming voice in my ear at the end of a yoga class. But often I would leave my practice frustrated as I was unable to tame my mind or finishing the practice early as I couldn't stand the constant mental chatter.

My search continued for the meditation practice that felt right to me. I wandered into mantra meditation, through sound/528hz frequencies and binaural beats, played with object gaze, movement meditation and the Osho's Dynamic Meditation. I'd have some successes, and many failures. I'd get frustrated and angry, until I'd find a flicker of peace within a beautiful practice. It was only when I felt peaceful did I consider my meditation a success. That inner peace wasn't guaranteed of course, so the next time my practice crumbled my Alpha-brained search for that ''perfect'' meditation high would take over. Thus, the cycle of craving continued.

What I now realise was happening is that I was attached to the idea of a ''perfect'' practice. Like an addiction, I wanted the feeling of peace and serenity constantly. If I didn't leave my mat feeling calm then my practice didn't count. At the time nobody was speaking about feeling fear on their mat, or anger or frustration or difficulty or resistance or challenge. All I was hearing were tales of wonderful peaceful practices, where birds chirped on-demand and inner peace was a given. So when my practice didn't look like that, I surmised I failed.

Oh, sweet girl if only you knew.

Before long, something shifted. Perhaps it was teacher training, perhaps it was talking to other meditators, maybe it was what I was reading or listening to but out of nowhere and really quiet at first, people started to speak of their true experiences with meditation. Warts and all! I realised not only was I not alone.... my experience was normal.

While I think we would all love to have a slice of a continuously peaceful tranquil life that we can tap into on-demand, it's not possible. The reality is that we are living in a western world juggling responsibilities, stress and survival (Hi 2020 TYSM for being here). Our lives are so busy, to expect the chaos to drop away every time we sit on a yoga mat to meditate is not realistic. That stuff sticks!

I couldn't develop a solid practice if I didn't show up for that practice with the same dedication I showed up to my daily Crossfit sessions. I showed up to the gym every single day sometimes nailing workouts and sometimes coming last. I never once walked out of there with my headspace worse off than what it was when I walked in.

Yet for some strange reason, I didn't apply the same thoughtfulness to my meditation practice. I expected to be on the podium every time I sat and got hella insulted when it didn't happen.

When I invited *all* of me onto the mat, everything changed. I now created space for the monkey mind so instead of shunning it away, denying it or forcing it to be quiet, I sat with it. It's a piece of me, if I don't accept it then what message does that say about how much I value myself if only the good is welcome? I see my frustrations and my challenges and I accept them; invite them along for the journey and watch what unfolds from their presence.

Sometimes they stay a while. Sometimes they merge with other thoughts and get quieter. Sometimes they create physical reactions. Sometimes they bring with them the same lesson day in day out until I listen. Sometimes they arrive and to this day they've never left.

A meditation practice isn't always like riding a bike. You don't always get better since than the last time you sat. It's a practice, just like everything and takes time, effort and energy. Practices like meditation evolve. Not every sit is tranquil, but there is a tranquil sit in every day. Even for that split second's peace; the practice is worth it.

My Vipassana practice has me focus on the space beneath my nostrils for a short while before using the technique to guide awareness throughout my body, through the layers of my being. It’s in silence, with no mantra or music or instruction. Sometimes I sit for 30mins, others I stay for an hour. Yet every single day I sit and see what happens.

When we practice meditation, we practice mastering our mind. By observing our thoughts as if we were laying back in a meadow and watching our thoughts like clouds forming in the sky, we witness them in their entirety. We notice their arrival. We see their colour and their texture. Some are darker, some fluffier. Some look like something else entirely, others vanish within moments. Sometimes rain or storms are born in the clouds, sometimes the sun shines through. For every day there are no clouds, there is another day of grey skies.

Meditation teaches us that we are not our thoughts. We observe our thoughts, but they are not us. They come, they stay awhile and eventually they go. No matter what arrives, it changes and eventually passes. Day always follows night, spring always follows winter. With time, the more we observe our thoughts the more comfortable we get with what lies just beneath our surface

A wandering mind is natural. It is not possible to stop all thoughts and ''clear your mind''. Instead what is possible is an opportunity to invite all of you out into the open. You shine a light on your internal shadows and invite them to sit with you for a while. Maybe they have something important to share, maybe they disappear before your eyes. Perhaps they'll stay awhile. But, by inviting your whole self to join in, you get to know your whole self. The good and the bad.

This to me is meditation. A connected flow where negative thoughts don't throw me off guard. Because in this space my only role is to observe. Nothing else matters.

With all my love, now and always,

Leonie

Xx