Meditation: Why I sit

Quiet the mind, and the soul will speak.  

(Ma Jaya Sati Bhagavati)

I’m a meditator.  I’ve been sitting for almost 11 years now.  It’s the most life-changing habit or practice I’ve taken on.  My first 10-day, silent meditation retreat in 2010 was so hard but so mind blowing literally and figuratively.  The experience left me feeling both humbled and exhilarated: This thing call life, I’d been doing it ALL wrong.  Alas, I’d found a tool that would help me live life “less wrong” by being more still, more present, more aware and, thus, more intentional in my thoughts, words and actions.  So, I resolved to continue sitting first sporadically and now habitually (about 2 hours a day).  This is my experience on finding and walking “the path.” 

Vipassana meditation: How it found me   

Prior to my first meditation course, I’d been suffering from acute, stress-related migraines for a few months.  The migraines felt like the by-product of having been shot on the left side of my head with a 2-inch nail.  While I got used to the pain, I struggled to get deep sleep (REM) and so grew increasingly tired and irritated.  During a session with my therapist, I remember him mentioning off-handedly a few years back that he meditated.  So, I asked him if he thought (Vipassana) meditation would help alleviate my migraines. 

“Maybe,” he said noncommittally. 

Desperate for a “cure,” his answer seemed promising enough.  Soon after, I quit my job and signed up for a 10-day course without knowing what I was getting myself into. (Looking back, that was for the best.  Otherwise, I would’ve backed out.)     

The first 3 days of the course was hell!  No talking; no reading; no writing; no dinner; no interaction with anyone aside from the meditation teacher and her assistant.  Just 10-11 hours of sitting every day on a 1-inch mat, beginning at 4:30AM.  Only sleep, meals, bathroom breaks and 5-minute showers broke up the seemingly endless, back-breaking “work” of sitting.  By day 3, I had had enough!  My body was racked with pain.  In search of sympathy and relief, I complained to the meditation teacher.  After listening patiently, she prescribed leg pillows.  Feeling disappointed and dejected, I walked away thinking:  I want pills, not pillows!  Strangely enough, the leg pillows worked and were the crutches I needed to continue sitting. 

By day 4, while heading towards the hall for yet another sit (sigh), I looked out over the fields, saw a few deer grazing contentedly and noticed rain quietly trickling down.  Slowly, I lifted up my right arm to trace the downward trajectory of rain.  It felt like I was seeing rain for the first time.  It wasn’t a stream of water, but rather a string of tiny beads of water.  Then, I remember hearing myself (mentally) speak softly, but clearly:  My life could be so much simpler.  My life could be so much happier.  (Trippy, I know.)  In that moment, I resolve to continue sitting until the end of the course, regardless of how uncomfortable or painful it was.  While I still had no idea what the heck was happening, I was curious to know where all this would lead me. 

Carrying on the (daily) practice 

After my first 10-day course, I realized that it was one of the most profound, yet inexplicable, experiences of my life.  I tried explaining it to family and friends and often got polite nods in return. Immediately, I started noticing changes in my behavior and how I went about in the world.  Having lived 10 days in silence, I found myself increasingly comfortable with talking less and listening more; doing less and being (present) more.  Moreover, after observing the flightiness of my “monkey mind” day in and day out, I found myself intermittently able to distinguish my thoughts from the observer ME.  In those moments, I’m able to become less reactive to what was happening “outside.”  This, in turn, helped me lessen the self-created “drama” (or noise) in my life. 

Unfortunately, I soon realized that my sense of clarity and peace of mind was slowing ebbing away.  Once again, I was becoming more reactive and creating dramas for myself and others.  In an effort to hold onto the practice as though my  life depended upon it, I tried to follow the teacher’s recommendation to sit 2 hours a day – 1 hour in the morning and 1 hour in the early evening.  During the first 2 years, I struggled to establish this daily practice.  The harder I tried, the more elusive it became and the angrier and more resentful I felt.  Somehow sitting became an obligation.  One day, upon hearing my frustration with the 2-hour daily sits, a meditation teacher kindly suggested that I scale it back to 30-minute daily sits (or 15 minutes per sit) and see how that goes.   

Interestingly, as with the leg pillows, this seemingly small adjustment helped me to continue sitting with less self-judgement and struggle.  Over the years, my 15-minute sits slowly turned into 30-minute sits and then eventually 60-minute sits.  For the past 2 years or so, I’ve become more consistent in sitting 2 hours per day.     

Benefits of sitting 

In recent years, I’m heartened to see that increased media coverage has helped moved meditation from the realm of “woo-woo” to mainstream.  Still, I sometimes get irked that the emphasis is often on job performance enhancement: improved productivity; quicker problem solving skills; more creativity.  While this is all true as I’ve experienced these “side-effects” myself, I can’t help think that this perspective is reductive.  For me, meditation is first-and-foremost a spiritual practice that helps reconnect me to my essence as a spiritual being.  As is, the overriding goal is not to make a better living, but rather lead a better life.  

Ultimately, I sit day in and day out because doing so helps me live life more consciously, more compassionately, more cooperatively and more aligned with reality. And, in doing so, I’m increasingly able to create a simpler and happier life.  

Resource: https://kunja.dhamma.org