First Meditation Experience: The Thing That I Wish I Had Started Earlier
I believe there’s a high chance that this is not your first time hearing the word “meditation.” Many people claim the activity as beneficial and life-changing. Well, I’m here not to preach the idea. I just want to start writing again about my random thoughts after a long hiatus.
Some close friends had advised me to meditate, but until 24 hours ago, it bore no interest in my mind. Before answering why I had never considered meditation as a cure pill, here’s a little (and hopefully relevant) background about my situation.
I’m angry, most of the time. And emotional, almost all the time. This goes to two things. First, I’m suspicious that this is a genetic predisposition… or merely learning from how my mom treats her emotions. Well, she and all her daughters have this tendency to express intense emotions.
Second, a not-so-constructive environment. In the past, I’d been often dismissed when showing emotions to friends and family members. I was told to shut up, literally and figuratively. (This is not a good thing to do to “emotional” people, but I understand their frustration. I blamed none!)
Either way, or the combination of both, this created a toxic emotional cycle.
Imagine a balloon that’s being pumped continuously; it will explode when it has reached a level above the desired inflation. You must let out some air before pumping the balloon again. When you’re “emotional”, the pump is doubled in speed and strength. In my case, a poor control system is an add-on. You don’t have any idea on how to release properly things you’ve received.
I acknowledge this might not be the best analogy, as a balloon couldn’t picture our emotional capacity well. Let’s just pretend that it holds similar traits to humans’ capacity. Lol.
Back to the original question: why not meditation? The impression I had of meditation was to shut us up, to bury our feelings instead of channelling them healthily. That kinda reminded me of being shushed by others, and I didn’t agree with the concept. I thought that a more appropriate solution would be to do some exercise or sports, letting out the excessive energy.
What changed, then?
So, I’m angry a lot these days to where it’s not healthy anymore. My boyfriend might listen to my “bad” days attentively, but this situation affected my physical health as I felt drained all the time. I lost focus, easily got tired, and got sick more often. I wanted to do some heavy sports like boxing or muay thai, but the pandemic told me otherwise.
Little did I know, a tiny part of me actually remembered meditation. I was still in denial, though, wanted nothing from it. I was afraid it would change me badly. Fortunately, I was too tired to even think about or do anything else last night. I decided to try, hoping that I could manage these emotions better afterwards.
The first thing I did was googling. I skimmed 2–3 articles before summarizing down how to meditate: (1) close your eyes in a comfortable space, (2) focus on your breathing, and (3) have your own pace. The third one is important as we have to listen to our body. Follow what it needs, let it gives you signs. Your body will start, flow, and stop naturally.
After finding a comfortable space, which was on my bed, I closed my eyes. Took a deep breath, paused, then let it go. I noticed the duration of taking a deep breath was shorter than letting it go. That’s… interesting. After a while and repeating the action, my mind started to wander. But that’s normal, according to the articles I read. I deliberately made myself an observer of my thoughts instead of shutting down them, which was a good decision.
What I found when my mind wandered was… the buried thoughts were all coming. I didn’t even know they’d troubled me. I just realized these things made my days harder lately. However, since I was the observer here, there was no emotional attachment to my own stories. As the breathing became automatic and the mind slowly changed scenes, it was easier for me to accept and let them go.
My mind was becoming clearer bit by bit. I could feel my heartbeat, hear the AC machine and a bird tweeted, sense the room light rather stronger than before. The latter was a sign to stop, so I opened my eyes. My night then continued as usual.
The next day, I felt the benefit for almost an entire day. I didn’t get angry nor said unnecessary stuff. I picked more neutral words when arranging sentences. Starting to do things was easier (I’m a chronic procrastinator.) Yet, it didn’t feel like I was trapped either. I still laughed watching funny YouTube videos, got sad hearing bad news, cared about my beloved ones. It’s only that the aftereffect was almost nonexistent, which was in a fair proportion.
As the time goes, it feels like the effect is starting to worn out, tho. Now I understand why people do it religiously. We need a pause after a long hour of activity. Meditation gives you some time to focus on yourself, some space to manage your feelings and thoughts. For a short-time therapy, I think it has the potential to be a long-term benefit.
That’s all my two cents about my meditation experience. Keep in mind that I’ve only done this once. Obviously not an expert, but this might also give some insights for people who are not willing to try to meditate in the beginning, accidentally stumbled upon this writing, or just a curious kitty.
My impression now about meditation, which I thought telling us to dismiss our feelings and thoughts, turns out asking us to let them out.
