How to Start Meditating — Even if You Think You Can't
“I can't meditate.”
That’s what I used to say to myself whenever I contemplated the notion of getting into meditation.
I was pretty sure that meditation would be good for me.
I was just as sure that I was one of those people who sadly could not benefit from this excellent mental tonic.
You see, like many others, I was under the impression that you already had to be a meditator in order to meditate.
In other words, I thought that one needed to be endowed with a still and peaceful mind in order to meditate at all.
I also believed that meditation was about “not thinking.”
Eventually, though, I decided to try it out.
I found that the biggest challenge was to just get started. My answer to myself when I posed the question, “shall I meditate this morning?” was always an emphatic “no.”
Finally, I got sick of procrastinating and got going.
I started with two minutes a day.
That was my answer to, "what can I not say 'no' to?"
Two minutes, that's easy.
It wasn't.
Those two minutes were torture at first. I could hardly stand it. My mind was jumping around like popcorn on a hot stove.
I was bored. I wanted to jump out of my skin. Off the meditation cushion. Do something. Distract myself.
I stuck to my two minutes. For a whole year. Every morning.
It got easier to sit. My mind slowed down a bit. I was still bored.
I was ready to add another minute. No going back! Bit by bit I added more time.
What was important was the habit.
The commitment to sitting. It was a small but powerful thing, this tiny little wedge I was creating in my day.
Like a small hammer on a chisel, slowly but surely opening up a gap in the incessant stream of consciousness playing through my mind.
Eventually, I noticed that my mental chatter had slowed down considerably.
There was a calm peaceful cadence to my mind.
Yes, it was still scattered and distracted, but not as wild and unruly.
Then, something else emerged: a precious pearl I had not anticipated.
Joy!
A subtle quiet undercurrent I had never noticed before.
It had been present all along, but so quiet and so deeply buried by the scrambled signal of chaotic thinking, I'd been unable to encounter it.
This joy became the bedrock of my experience. There it was when I stopped to just be.
Since then, I've been hooked on meditation. I do stray from time to time, sometimes for months on end. but I always come back to it.
Meditation is a ritual for life.
Meditation is a practice. It requires commitment.
One tiny step gets you started.