The window is open. I sit down to meditate…
I close my eyes. I can hear the sounds of the night outside. Wind, cars, cicadas, a humming that seems to come from both within and outside the house. All the noises of nighttime in our small town. I think about the place where we live, my neighbourhood. I feel safe, content. I wonder how it will change over the coming years. I wonder how I will change in the next few years. I think about the plans we’re making…
Back to what I was doing.
I hear the distant, faint sound of the television from the living room. “What is he watching now?” I ponder a few plausible guesses and listen more closely. I think about how I can hear the neighbours television when their window is open & our window is open. I don’t hear it tonight. I wonder if they ever hear us. Probably not, I think they mentioned they’re slightly hard of hearing…
Back to what I’m doing. Breathe.
I hear a bigger gust of wind approach. The sounds of the night intensify. “What’s the weather forecast tomorrow?” I almost grab for my phone…
Right. Back to what I’m doing.
My mind wanders to an interaction with an acquaintance I bumped into the day prior. “I still can’t believe her response. What did she mean by that?” My anxious mind thinks of all the possible ways I could have wronged this person, made them dislike me. The whole short-loved relationship. A wave of emotion. I take a moment to feel it, consider it, knowing this is part of the process.
Back to the present moment. Back to what I was doing.
I feel the mattress underneath of me. I feel glad for the haven of this room. I think about how we still need to paint the walls. I look around at the baseboards, the ceiling, the furniture. “So many things to do.”
I glance at the clock.
It’s been less than 2 minutes.
I think about just how many thoughts we can have in a mere 60 seconds. All the places a mind can take us.
I consider that the mind is on this infinite loop all day long, and many of us don’t even realize it. Many people don’t take the time to tune in, to hear the mind, to get quiet.
We are having just as many thoughts, maybe more, as the rest of the world zooms by; as we interact with others – who are undoubtedly on their own infinite loop. All of this as we go about our tasks, our work; as we take in the never-ending stimuli of the vast busyness that is modern life.
No wonder we can become so overwhelmed.
I am grateful for this practice, because it helps.
Dear reader, if you’ve ever tried to meditate and thought: “I can’t do it. I’m not good at this. I can’t turn off my mind” – allow me to tell you this is meditating.
Carving out the time to sit quietly and “try” to meditate, is meditation.
Focusing on your breath for five minutes in a controlled environment where distractions are minimized, is meditation.
Turning off your phone, and intentionally being with your thoughts, is meditating.
Tuning in, listening, seeing what comes up – this is meditation.
The mind does not have to go completely blank, devoid of thought, for your meditation to count.
This is not how a mind works. Our minds are made to think. Your very human nature will pull you towards thought when you sit down quietly. The mind will try to distract you with stories.
Noticing, observing and not getting lost in them – this is the practice.
Like most things: it’s not complicated, but it’s also not easy. It takes practice. It takes work. It takes actually getting started and committing to regular practice in a habitual way.
Keep practicing 🙏🏻