3/6 – On Meditation

Each time the baby goes down for a nap, his body resting safe and sound, I find a comfortable posture and I ready my timer. I will rest my body, too, and I will rest my mind. If I am feeling very intentional, I will adopt a hand or body position that invites what I think I might need at that time: palms open for more energy; one finger resting on thumb to draw on a particular element. But more often than not I rush into it, plopping myself down and pressing start before I can talk myself out of it.

More often than not, the turmoil at the start is overwhelming. The list of things I need to do courses through my mind like the life reel that supposedly plays before death. Urgency nearly brings me out of my chair 3, 5 or sometimes 10 times. Q, that agent of chaos, that being of spontaneity and pure desire, could wake up at any minute.

What if… what if… what if…

If I force myself to sit here, waiting for the minutes to pass, wishing the timer would go off already, then I am not really meditating. If I get up to do something, then I am not meditating either. The onslaught of thoughts, full of blame, doubt, uncertainty, and fear, begin to cloud the sunny day. My mind says, ‘See, you’ll never be good at this.’ ‘Don’t try so hard… don’t just give up… don’t you think there are more important things to do?’

But I know this game now. I know that these thoughts are always a possibility. I know where they come from (the same places as yours – my parents, my culture, society, my fear) and I know that there is nothing I will ever be able to do to get rid of them. So, I am learning to see them for what they are – a part of a much larger whole. I begin to look for what else is here, too.

I notice the things around me. In front of me is the light switch; around that, pictures on the wall, books on the desk, clutter. I smile at the thoughts of cleaning it up, knowing that I won’t and that I don’t need to. I hear the sounds of construction and I wish they weren’t there, then I remember that I am meditating and I allow them to be.

I notice my body. My neck hurts, I should really make another appointment with…. oops. My neck hurts. That’s interesting. The chair feels strong and sturdy beneath me.

I notice my feelings. I am smiling inside at the persistent doubt. I didn’t used to be able to do that. Now I am smiling at my progress, congratulating myself. Oops. There’s nowhere to get to, and nowhere to arrive. I find my breath and stay there.

Slowly, slowly, I notice the dark clouds begin to grow less ominous, more white and fluffy. They pass in a gentle breeze, still calling to me to notice them, but I just let them be. Clouds make a part of the bigger picture. I am watching more of the whole thing now.

Hmmm… maybe I will write about meditation for my challenge today. How will I start it? I could use some imagery… oops. I find my breath and stay there.

Before the timer goes off, I stretch and give in to the urge to check how much time remains. 1:13 to go. Oops. Not as long as yesterday. Oh well. I sat and I watched and I listened and I accepted and I was gentle with myself. I smile.

I used to feel disappointed at the end of a session if I didn’t ‘get to that place’, if I didn’t feel zen, and relaxed, and calm and at peace. I now understand that the meditation has done it’s job by showing me this disappointment, which gives me the following information: I have a picture of how I think meditation should be and feel. Actually, I have a picture of how my whole life should be, should feel, should go. So, in fact, meditation has done it’s job: it has shown me what is here.

The baby is still sleeping. I have not ‘gone’ anywhere. I have not ‘done’ anything. I have not crossed a single thing off my list, and yet I feel as if I have because the same shift has taken place as if I have: that list is no longer breathing down by neck.

Tomorrow, or perhaps later tonight, I will sit again and see what’s here. And I will forget to remember, and then I’ll remember to forget.


I find that there is so much confusion around meditation. What is it? How do I do it? Is this the right way, or this, or this? One of the most helpful things I heard recently is this: any technique you use is like a taxi cab – it takes you to your destination, and then you don’t need it anymore. This is not about what is right and what is wrong. Whatever works to help you see yourself as you truly are – mantras, movement, positions, etc – do that. Just be. And allow. And do it every day.Ā 


3/6 – #SOL18

9 Comments Add yours

  1. ureadiread says:

    Thank you for the reminder to be. Still. Patient with ourselves. Aware. Mindful.


  2. blkdrama says:

    That’s a lot of noticing and writing power for a mom with a baby. Spiritual šŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  3. mbush17 says:

    Thanks for this!! I am so excited to try this!


  4. tbreitweiser says:

    What a wonderful description of your meditation practice.
    I always look at the timer too….so funny how it seems to tick soooo slowly. Thank you also for the reminder to continue to practice. I always feel better afterward.


  5. dawnaguilar says:

    Love the line: “I sat and I watched and I listened, and I accepted (YES!) and I was gentle with myself” We hear this and say it to ourselves but it is so difficult to embody. We shouldn’t worry about how long it takes us to let go…it’s important that we try. You’re pretty smart to do this when the baby goes down for a nap.


    1. mel marie says:

      Thanks šŸ™‚ Yeah I have found it to be the best time… the further from a possible interruption?! The morning has just been so unlikely and the evenings I am, you know, tired! haha. When do you do it?


  6. aggiekesler says:

    Thanks for sharing your inner struggles with meditation. I have tried it off and on to little degree of success, but Iā€™m being nudged to try it again.


  7. berries781 says:

    Great blog! I know what you mean about trying to quiet your mind and just be but your mind wants to just keep churning and thinking of what’s next? I’ve been trying hypnosis for relaxation/chronic pain relief. I’m getting better at it but I still find myself thinking about what to make for dinner or when I need to make an appointment etc when I should be paying attention to the script and my body. It’s hard!


    1. mel marie says:

      My favourite part is… each time you notice your mind has wandered… you’re meditating. There’s nothing else to it. Except… remembering that?! Good luck.

      Liked by 1 person

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