Hey friends! Long time, no write. Ugh – it was, as you can imagine, a rough year, but yesterday was the solstice so we’re halfway done!

I’ve been noticing lately around the interwebz that meditation is yet again on the rise as a way of cooling off/down, centering, etc. And, as happens when anyThing becomes popular, there is (rightful) questioning and at times even some backlash toward The Thing. As easy as it might be to blame the ones with the problem for “not getting it,” or “not doing it right,” and sitting smugly on one’s $230 meditation cushion as you become one with the bumblebees about to build a hive in your hair, let’s face it: Not everything is . . . for everyone? Additionally, someone not liking a thing you like does not even remotely affect you and honestly if you really were as into meditation as you claim to be, Susan, then you would know that.

Of course, I get how it’s easy to be defensive about something if it means so much to you, especially something thats aligned a spiritual practice and you feel, as is the case with me, that it was the thing that saved your life.

I’m a bit familiar with the back and forth of thought on this (deep personal meaning criticized by people one doesn’t feel gave it a decent chance) because – and this is a huge confession, please bear with me –

I hate yoga.

Uggggggghhhhhh I can’t stand it. I won’t get it into why, I won’t make this a hate fest (maybe it’ll be a separate blog post for cynics like me), but suffice it to say, yoga doesn’t work for me. At all. It does nothing for me. The reason I relate to those who aren’t into meditation is because right now, as I type this, I am waiting for the inevitable responses from yoga fans, even if they’re only in the readers’ heads:

“How many classes did you take?”

“Where did you take classes?”

“The right teacher makes all the difference.”

“Did you choose the right level to start with?”

“I bet she didn’t give it a fair shot.”

I know this, of course, because they’re often the responses I get – though I admit I do have a HYSTERICAL (to me, and me only probably) 5-minute monologue about why yoga is dumb and perhaps this is why people who are into it feel a bit defensive about it so. Um. Yeah.

Alright, I admit the part I play! I do! But overall, there it is: The idea that if you aren’t into something someone else found incredibly helpful, it’s common to feel like you’re trapped in a room with a Spiritual Riddler, with their demanding you explain, in great detail, how hard you tried to make this correct – what I suspect people are faced with when they admit they stopped breastfeeding or weren’t into WandaVision. (Hold your comments, I haven’t watched it yet, so I have no opinion . . . or do I?)

Is it just the way the world is now? Eternally clinging to our own personal perspective that we apply strictly to people with completely different existences, mindsets, lives than our own? Well, what a bummer. Especially because, hello, nothing turns someone off to something more than being accused of being too dumb or lazy to really “get it.”

Here’s the thing: Meditation changed my life, it’s true. I wouldn’t be the same person without it, and that change has been completely positive. Also true is that it can bring up a lot of stuff for people that they should absolutely not be facing alone in a room with Yanni playing. And anyone who takes meditation seriously would be kind enough to tell someone that before they embarked on it. I’m genuinely happy to talk to people about it, if they’re interested, but I try really hard to just keep it to a casual/personal mention here and there in my relationships, as opposed to only talking about it when people are in crisis and acting like it’ll save their lives. Cuz I don’t know that it will, and going about it improperly is almost guaranteeing that it won’t.

So, rather than be the Smug who demands answers as to why you don’t like something I do under the facade of giving advice, I’d rather just lay out some actual advice right here with the understanding that it’ll get to those who want it (right, universe?!). (Big bold disclaimer: I’m not a certified meditation teacher! I don’t lead classes, I don’t have any mental/emotional health or psychology or psychiatry degrees. Meditation really helped me, that’s it.)

Here it is!

Advice for Those Who Are Interested in Maybe, Possibly, Beginning Meditation and How to Start

Set your context.
Before you even think about starting, really try to wrap your head around how there is no end goal with this. You may find that doing little mindfulness exercises throughout your day is helpful enough that making your kids share a room so you can have a meditation den is not actually necessary. I think when people think “meditation” they automatically assume that they are going to be sitting quietly and calmly on a cushion for long periods of time. And I’ll be honest: That is what it looks like for a lot of people, at certain points – but not all of the time. I’ll get into later the sort of free-flow relationship I currently have with meditation, but for now, it’s important to note firmly in your mind that this is just something to be curious about and explore. Be open to it, yes – also be open to the idea that this may not do shit for you, and you may actively hate it. It isn’t a cure-all, it doesn’t have fast results, and there’s a reason it’s called a practice – because you’re working on it all the time. And that means that at some point along that journey, maybe you won’t realize you hate it, but that you quite like it a lot actually, but honestly can’t sit with your legs crossed, or really didn’t enjoy that meditation retreat, or think maybe having a mantra is better than MBSR (mindfulness-based stress reduction).

Essentially, the point, ultimately, is to be in the moment, so try not to think much about “I can’t wait for the day I am a Meditator!” or “I can’t wait til this works!” It may not “work” at all, but if it does, it’ll be relatively slowly over time (though I will say, if it’s helpful, you’ll feel better in the moment and realize that pretty quickly, even if the feeling doesn’t last much beyond the time of practice).

Alright, you have the right context! Onward . . .

First: If you have a therapist, please talk to them instead of reading this blog.
Your doctors/mental health professionals know you, and know your emotional/mental health and well-being. I do not. Before you do anything, mention to them that you’re interested in trying meditation. Even if they don’t know a ton about it, they will most likely have at hand some small beginning exercises that they think will fit where you are right now. Should that be helpful, they’re also likely to have resources for you – like actual, certified teachers – that they believe will be a good fit for you, personally. Heck, they might just say, “Sounds good, have fun!” But – know that it’s okay to ask if you can do some of those beginning exercises with them. I can’t stress it enough: Shit can come up in meditation or even meditative exercises that can be overwhelming or upsetting. You want to dip that toe in with a trusted person near you.

We all good now? You don’t have a therapist or a reason to believe that shit can get wild real fast? Cool, my first step for those for whom the . . . other first step? . . . did not apply:
Start small.
Very small.
Infinitesimally small.
Alright, you have maybe an average level of stress/anxiety. Check. This meditation thing sounds pretty cool. Check. Here we go!

The best place to start, for me, is to do some meditative and/or mindfulness exercises throughout your day to see if they’re helpful. There is a difference, of course, between meditative and meditation. They are different, yes, but carefully noting the interplay between these two exercises can be the key to ultimately ending up with a regular, optimal practice for yourself.

There are lots of ways to do meditative exercises; I define them as exercises that bring attention to the breath (again: I’m not certified in mindfulness or meditation, these are my personal definitions). Taking five deep breaths when you get up in the morning, with your feet on the floor – that works. Or, if morning doesn’t work for you, pick a time and set a reminder on your phone. The key to see whether it’s helpful is, as with anything, consistency. Just do five breaths just once a day, around the same time of day . If that makes you feel good, then add another five-breath session. You may find yourself “assuming the position” (hahahaha) of those flat feet, hands palm up on your knees, randomly throughout the day without thinking. I wouldn’t even say, at this point, to worry about “bringing your attention to the breath” as you do this. You’ll hear that phrase a lot on this journey, should you choose to take it, but when you’re just sort of dabbling into it, I don’t think it’s necessary to try super hard to focus on those five deep breaths. It’s quite possible that as you repeat the exercise, you’ll find your head clearer without having to worry about focusing totally on the breaths, so don’t worry about it.

Mindfulness exercises are also a great way to see if, down the road, meditation might be helpful to you. Mindfulness exercises (again: my uneducated opinion) to me are exercises that bring your attention to your body and to the world around you, in this moment. Usually taking deep breaths while doing this is certainly helpful, but not required. One mindfulness exercise I do when I’m incredibly anxious is to just say the name of everything around me in my head (or out loud if you’re alone, or not alone and extremely secure in yourself, in which case, why does all of this interest you? Write a book giving me advice, babe!). Literally just: “Table. Chair. Ice. Glass. Notebook. Pen.” After a bit, I’ll notice I’ve ameliorated my anxiety by grounding myself in what’s around me.

A step further is to add all of the senses: Name five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste. There are variations of this exercise, with the number of things listed for each sense differing, but the gist is the same.

The reason I suggest starting with these little exercises (google “mindfulness exercises” for tons of stuff) is simply because they’ll give you insight into whether the essence of meditation – sitting with yourself, quietly – is something you would even remotely enjoy or benefit from. I think, often, there’s the misconception that meditation is an escape when it’s quite the opposite. A large part of it is that you have to be willing to accept all of yourself, all of your bullshit, to even get close to the stereotype of a totally blissed-out monk staring at a flower for seven hours straight. And that means, of course, getting used to your regular anxieties and stresses and not trying to run from them, distract yourself, etc., but to play with them a bit, try to create space for them in which they’re acknowledged, but not overwhelming. The other large part of it is, of course, breathing so both of these types of exercises are like little previews for a deeper practice. Essentially: If you find these types of things helpful and possible to do in short bits of time, then you’ll most likely be able to do longer, deeper versions later.

Play around with meditative/mindfulness stories and guided meditations.
They’re everywhere. YouTube and apps have guided meditations all over the place. While I primarily practice mantra meditation, I tend to go back to guided meditations when I’m particularly anxious or having a tough time. We all need that voice in our head to reassure us sometimes, to literally guide our thinking. Especially when just starting an interest in meditation, guided is the way to go – it’s incredibly easy for things to go haywire when just alone with one’s thoughts (or “the breath”) without a lot of practice. Or, even if not haywire, to get bored and get nothing out of it.

Same as with the previous “step,” start with short ones and build up. Even better, start with mindfulness or meditative stories – also all over YouTube, but my favorite is the “Not Much Happens” podcast, which is bedtime stories for adults to help us sleep. The Insight Timer app is well worth the price, with stories, guided meditations, meditation music, thousands of teachers, etc. I’ve used it for years, and I can’t imagine not having it. This is a good time to make that investment, as you have whatever you’re in the mood for right at your fingertips – but again, they’re also free all over the internet. Remember when choosing them that the key is to build up your ability to slow down, pause, and be attentive to either what’s in your own brain or the world around you.

Go to a group meditation.
I myself am not . . . a joiner. I mean, talk about mantras, mine is that Groucho Marx quote about how I wouldn’t want to be in any club that would have me as a member. So, I totally get it if you read “group meditation” and immediately thought, “Well, I guess my meditation journey is done now.”

But here’s the thing: Group meditations are perfect for us crabby people because you don’t have to talk to anyone! The whole point is to, like, not talk to anyone. Isn’t it amazing?

If you’ve found that the mindfulness and meditative exercises are really giving you some stress relief, a group experience is, to me, a great next step that allows you to go deeper without being alone, and without a firm commitment. When I say “group,” I’m talking about the stand-alone, open sessions that yoga centers and YWCAs and different centers have. I would not suggest, this early in the game, buying a bunch of classes at once (like a course) – it may still be too soon to tell if this is for you. A lot of the reason for my writing this blog at all is because I wouldn’t want somebody who may ultimately benefit from meditation to get turned off early in the game because they leapt too far.

Most group meditation sessions have an educational element, which is really nice as well, as it’s usually pretty basic and consists mostly of reminders that we’re all okay, EVERYTHING IS OKAY. They also tend to have a bit of a sampler platter: A five or ten minute intro, a guided meditation, maybe a bit of a discussion, then maybe a silent meditation after some guidance. Of course, no one can tell what’s in your head, so if you took a little snooze or trip to fantasy land in your head, that’s okay too.

One thing I would check out beforehand though is the practical issue of seating: I’m not very flexible and don’t do well on cushions (probably because I don’t do yoga), and I also have a thing about laying down with my eyes closed in a room full of strangers (like what the fuck is this, Sleep No More? No fucking thanks!). It’s chairs or, at the very least, sitting up for me. I haven’t come across a session that made you feel like a dick for sitting how it’s comfortable for you, quite the opposite, but there is a strong possibility a folding chair doesn’t even exist in the space, so consider that.

Also I hate feet, so I don’t like to go places where you have to take your shoes off, fucking barf.

Despite my grumpiness at . . . society . . . I have actually really been missing group meditation sessions in the pandemic. There’s something reassuring to me – something that helps me relax – which is that everyone else here is also here to be quiet. Meaning, the To-Do List of Your Brain that’s constantly running immediately gets a bit quelled when you look around and really take in that nobody else in this space is getting anything done either. Nobody is running to get someone coffee, or scrolling on their phone, or frantically searching for something in their purse. Just being in a room with a bunch of people doing “nothing” is calming in and of itself.

Additionally, I’ve found I’m my own worst enemy when it comes to solo meditation. My brain, if not looking for something to be anxious about, is always looking for me to do something. I have a list of about a thousand things I “need” (so my brain says) to get done, and I will move heaven and earth to get them done as they are all much more important than meditation. Which means that being in a group of people means that I’m unable to convince myself that doing the dishes, sending that email, or running that errand needs to be done now and I can just meditate later. Group sessions hold me accountable, in a sense, and you may find the same.

We’re getting there! Maybe now try a course?
At this point, you may be sitting like a happy duck with your guided meditations, group sessions, mindful moments, etc. And that, dear friend, is awesome. Enjoy it, be well, catch that bliss and not those hands or whatever (I am old). I didn’t have the apps and whatnot of today because iPhones had only just become a thing when I started this journey, but I think if they had been, I could very well have reached a nice leveling out with just those tools, and you may find the same. This whole thing is about, ultimately, listening to yourself – if you, yourself, are telling . . . you . . . that you feel at peace and calm and whatever routine you have currently is working for you, then let things be. One thing with meditation is, don’t push it. Again: There’s no final destination, no “end” or ultimate level of achievement. And like with most things, if you push something when in your heart of hearts you don’t really want to, just feel like you’re supposed to or should, it’ll backfire and you won’t like it any more.

For me, I was legit craving more. I skipped this particular step of taking a meditation course (for reasons I’ll get into later), but it’s a logical next step if you’re feeling like you want more but also not wanting to spoil it for yourself.

If you choose a course, now is when you’re going to have to do some research as to types of meditation, because they’re different, and courses are pretty specific to type. Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction (which is basically meditation without a spiritual element, no mantras, just training yourself to focus on your breath) or MBSR, as well as transcendental meditation are heavy into education/courses, and are examples of specific types.

As hard as it sounds, try not to worry too much about choosing the exact right type of meditation (except if it’s pretty pricey, of course). Nowadays, there are a lot of beginner courses online that aren’t super steep in price, and even course videos on, again, YouTube that are free to access. A couple of warnings about online, free-access videos, however: First, you need to be sure they come from a reputable place, not ZenGrrrrrrl6442973er97. Look for the names of actual centers, and google them. If it’s a particular person, look into where they’ve trained, what their certifications are, etc. I’m not joking when I say they could be in a cult (call your dad), but more likely they could just be pretty average at their job and trying to make a quick buck through ads. Second, because of all of the stuff that can come up with meditation, I wouldn’t rely on two-dimensional, pre-recorded videos for very long. I’m not talking about guided meditation, I’m talking about the stuff that is mainly breathing and mantra work. You want someone reputable in the room with you, if at all possible. I know that’s not really possible for the majority of people, but even a lot of online courses from reputable places have a dedicated teacher to you or your group of learners. So, you’re not just watching a bunch of videos – you have interaction, someone to speak with if you’re having trouble, colleagues to exchange with, etc.

And with that, here’s the final summary of course work:
1. Try to do it in person if possible.
2. Most courses focus on one type of meditation, so research what you think will work best for you.
3. No matter where you do it or what kind it is, google the center and the teacher.
4. If online, don’t stick with free videos for too long – don’t underestimate the incredible value of having a dedicated teacher to work with, even online.
5. I would actually be wary of a free “course” that’s on a streaming platform that is two-dimensional/pre-recorded and claims to teach you a particular kind of meditation. Zero types of meditation are something a person can teach effectively in this way. To quote my main man Jimmy Dugan, “It’s supposed to be hard,” though more accurately in this context, “It’s supposed to be complex, thoughtful, deliberate, and multi-dimensional,” none of which you get in that format.

Private/Small Group Lessons
So, I skipped the course thing and jumped straight to private lessons. Well, I skipped the guided meditations and YouTube videos too, because I started this before that was a thing – or at least a thing I knew about. Also, I was living in New York City at the time, and had the privilege of incredible group sessions available to me. I don’t want to get too into the emotional/mental journey that brought me to meditation, but yes, I have anxiety, yes it was at a peak in my mid-20s, and yes, there was a lot of deep emotional stuff too that was mixed in. I was truly desperate to try anything, and I started going to Tibet House, where group meditations were by donation. The woman leading it ended up being my meditation teacher.

If she hadn’t been my teacher, if I hadn’t done private lessons, I’m not sure if I’d have ever stuck with it at all. Because those warnings I keep peppering about in this blog? It happened to me, bébés. The first thing she told me to do, after our first chat, was to just walk around thinking, “I give up. I give up. I give up.” She noted immediately that I was constantly trying to keep a grip on anything and everything I could, and that nothing was going to happen until I released that grip and “gave up.” I still have to do that sometimes, recite “I give up” over and over.

Then, I had an incredibly hard time settling. The previous steps I’ve written out all stem from my own experience and the very strong possibility that the vast majority of people will never get to the step of having a private teacher, which means that they won’t have guidance in the moment, which means they need to deliberately build up so they’re not just “ew”‘ing and dipping out (though that is absolutely okay, of course!). Essentially, I’d feel my chest start to get tight when I sat down to meditate, all ready with my mantra. I’d start to panic. I couldn’t do it, I could absolutely not sit with myself. I remember calling my teacher and crying, as this was clearly more evidence that I was terrible at everything and surely nothing would ever get better, I’d never get better, and her response was extremely light: “Katie, don’t worry, if you start crying when you’re meditating, you’re just done meditating for the day and can try again tomorrow. G’night!”

With that ringing in my ears, I kept sitting down, feeling my chest get tight, and stopping. And then one morning, I sat down, my chest got tight . . . and I thought, “Oh. My chest is tight.”

Because that was it. I was finally able to separate physical symptoms of anxiety with what was in my head, and it was a huge breakthrough for me. Not just in terms of being able to meditate, but it changed my whole way of being. I understood how a twist of my stomach sent me into a tailspin – clearly it was a sign of impending doom! I ended up, however, being able to make space between that first twist and the overwhelming wave of panic that followed it. That’s what meditation did for me. Separating certain feelings from my physical body in order to be curious about and kind to them, as opposed to smashing them down or turning my back and running away, screaming the whole time. And when I could do that, I could learn to not hate myself for them too, and broke out of that cycle of 1.) Horrible thoughts, 2.) Horrible emotions, 3.) Hating self for horrible thoughts and emotions, 4.) Panicking that I’d be like this forever.

I wrote out this experience only because without someone essentially “monitoring” me, it wouldn’t have happened. It’s guidance without specific guiding – it was personal and thoughtful and didn’t push. At any point in trying this stuff, you might find that a teacher and private lessons is for you – it’s expensive, though again, with everything on Zoom now maybe it’s more feasible than before. This is why I gave a shout out to therapists at the start of this, because if you have someone already who knows you well in this way, and has your best interests, they’re a fantastic resource to work with, even if they’re unable to teach you meditation practice themselves. It isn’t uncommon, just FYI, for therapists to work with meditation teachers, and it’s worth asking them what they think about that.

Private lesson stuff goes right along with the courses: Check backgrounds, ask for referrals if they’re not available on the person’s website (honestly they should be), be sure the type of meditation they’re teaching is for you and figure out a timeline. Meditation lessons are not therapy. You are, ultimately, being taught a skillset; be wary of someone who just charges per lesson without an end in sight. A good teacher of any subject has at least somewhat of a curriculum – first you learn this, then that, then that, and the last step is this. If you’re working with a teacher and you don’t feel like there’s any type of a “track” and it feels aimless/without direction, walk away. There’s a chance some teachers are up front about this: Perhaps it’s just their thing to be loose about it, and maybe they work best without a set series of steps. And, well, you may also prefer that. In thinking about what made my experience optimal, however, was that a set series of steps is a comforting and reassuring context for me. I didn’t have to think about when it would end, how I would know if I was doing “well,” etc., and I think for this particular kind of work, structure in which to work is very necessary.

So that’s it! It’s long! I hope it’s not overwhelming. If it is you can just . . . meditate. Yuk, yuk! But seriously: If you have any questions about it, I’m happy to try my best to answer them. Again: It isn’t for everyone, there’s nothing wrong with you if it isn’t, but if you think it might be, there are lots of ways to approach it that can work for you. In fact, I think the next blog post will focus a bit more on how I utilize all of the different things I’ve listed here, creating a weird fun house of meditation. Hope this was helpful, and stay tuned for that!

If you like my nonsense, more of it is available on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook. I’m actually having a lot of fun on Twitter and try to keep talk about what new cool art is around/coming out soon, which helps me keep my head on and heart hopeful. Email me at whatthehellisonmyface at gmail dot com.