I close my eyes and take a deep breath, then let it out slowly.
Ahhh. Time to relax.
I’m trying, once again, to meditate. I’ve tried it before, even meditating in a session with a meditation teacher. I’m pretty bad at it, probably because I don’t work hard enough at it and don’t stick with it (see previous post about dieting and you might notice a trend).
But I’m trying again, because I’m aware of all the benefits of meditation. How it lowers blood pressure and promotes better health in general. How it improves your ability to concentrate. How it improves your self-esteem and self-awareness. How it lowers stress and increases your imagination and creativity. How it reduces negative emotions and fosters tolerance and patience.
Plus, I’ve noticed that for all that I’m generally a laidback person, I can get awfully tense at times.
Hence, here I am, sitting cross-legged on the floor, hands on my knees, back straight, seeking complete mindfulness but mindful mostly of my breathing.
Concentrate on your breathing, beginners are told. In, out. In, out. Focus. Try not to let your mind wander, but if it does, gently rein it back in and think about nothing. Except your breathing. In, out. In, out.
I wonder if I’m breathing too deeply. What is it that happens when you do that too much? Hyperventilating? Well, I don’t want that, so I’ll slow down here. Smaller breaths. Breathe normally. In, out. Visualize the air coming in, bringing positive energy. Visualize it going out, expelling all that negative energy.
My nose itches. Damn that negativity; it must be tickling my nose hairs on the way out. Should I scratch the itch? No, that would give in to the negativity I’m trying to expel. Wait, wait … it’s just negativity’s way of distracting me from my positive meditating. It’s making me think about itching and hyperventilating when I should be thinking about … nothing.
Ahhh, there we go. Center our thoughts, focus on … boy, this floor is hard. I don’t have much padding on my backside as it is, so this is definitely uncomfortable. And let’s not even think about how my knees feel, all folded up like this. What am I, a kindergartener at story time? My body is too old to sit like this.
No, no, no. Ignore those thoughts. No pain, no gain, right? Wait, that’s weightlifting. I’m pretty sure meditating is not supposed to include pain. Now, yoga. I’ve done a bit of yoga in my time, and that can definitely involve pain. I remember that time I thought I’d wrenched my back …. no, no, no. Mind is wandering again. Back to square one. In, out. In, out. Just breathe.
Hmmm. What’s that smell? Smells vaguely like stink worm. Or maybe – horrors! – the dreaded stink bugs are back! No, it can’t be! We eradicated them, waged a months-long war with the little bastards. It doesn’t bear thinking about….
Oh, yeah. No thinking. Especially about bugs, which even now might be crawling …. whoa, there. Enough. This is not relaxing. Think calming, peaceful thoughts. Think sandy beaches, swaying palm trees …. no, no, don’t. Think no thoughts. I mean, don’t think.
Dang, my butt hurts. I wonder if it’s permissible to lie down while meditating. I don’t recall seeing any pictures of all those Buddhist monks in Tibet or Nepal or wherever lying down, so probably not. Plus, there’s the danger of segueing smoothly from meditating to sleeping if I was flat on my back rather than contorted into this painful position. Maybe that’s why they sit like this, so there’s no chance of dozing off. So, okay, no lying down.
And no paying attention to all those noises. Like those birds outside the window; do they ever shut up? And who the hell are all these people driving up and down our road? Where are they going this time of day? Why is there someone always mowing their grass in my neighborhood? And … no, stop it. Just stop. You’re thinking too much. (Ha! Not too many people can be accused of that these days.)
Speaking of noises, I wonder if I should try a mantra. You know, chant an om or two to help focus my non-thoughts on the task at hand, which isn’t a task, I know, but you catch my drift. But then, I dunno; I can’t carry a tune so what is my humming or droning going to sound like? Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut.
You know, while my mind is wandering and before I rein it back in, I think I’m beginning to suspect that this meditation could be a load of New Age mystical hooey. I could relax much easier by sampling from a whole cornucopia of pharmaceuticals that other people seem to be scarfing down to handle the stress and strain of modern life. Why, there is our medicinal bottle of tequila cooling it’s jets right now in the freezer just waiting to be doled out as a relaxing cold shot. One of those would certainly do the trick.
But that would be the easy way out, and there isn’t much sense of accomplishment in downing a shot. Meditation is harder, not to mention healthier. It takes practice. It takes concentration. Clearly I need help in learning how to … um, oh yeah, concentrate a bit better. So suck it up and do this the right way. Meditate, damn it.
Then you can have the shot.
How about we just concentrate on breathing like we are supposed to? In, out. In, out. Relax. You can do this. Quit talking to yourself and let your mind go. Enjoy the sensations of nothingness. Tune out the world and all its problems. All is peaceful. Life is good. I’m living in the moment, connected to the universe.
I open my eyes. I unkink my body. I take a deep breath and let out a deep sigh.
Dang. I feel pretty good.