I never thought I’d be the type of person to meditate — I honestly didn’t.
I had nothing against it and tried it a couple of times before doing it consistently. I was familiar with the basics of it: focusing on the breath and noticing the body. But I didn’t understand the purpose of the whole thing, and now I do.
I’ve been learning a lot about myself in college, and now I’m more familiar with my “active mind.” I am thankful for it in a way; the side of me that is disciplined and plans things in advance. But, like everything else, it’s twofold. A lot of people identify as over-thinkers, so they’ll be able to relate. As much as I enjoy routines and knowing exactly what I’ll have for breakfast every day of the week, thinking about everything so much was keeping me from living in the moment. Yes, it’s the most cliché thing ever said. But internalizing what this actually means for me is one of the biggest takeaways of the journey.
What started in the summer as just a moment to relax, became a surprisingly effective coping method for anxieties that had been there for months and that heightened with the pandemic. Being an international student, and not knowing if I was going back home to Colombia at all during the summer, got me thinking twice as much about the future. Navigating living with friends and the different aspects of quarantine life made the need to take care of my mind more evident.
Everyone’s meditating experience is different, and the point is to adapt it to individual needs. But, for me, the main thing has been the notion that “I am here, now. I am doing this.” Taking 15 minutes, with the help of the Headspace app, to not think about whatever I was doing next, or throughout the day, progressively helped me find ease. That’s where the whole breathing thing clicked. It is not just breathing for breathing’s sake. Breathing is a tool to remember that you are in the present, that you are in this space. This might sound redundant and abstract, but taking one thing at a time, one day at a time is actually an incredibly difficult thing for many people.
The practice allowed me to, at least for a couple of minutes, let go of the idea that maybe people “were mad at me” or that I had to have all the answers — and just be okay with existing.
“I’ll face that when it comes. Right now, nothing can hurt me,” is what I started thinking while meditating once my mind wandered off to thoughts of all the things I had yet to plan and do. The thing with meditation, though, is that it requires patience. It’s understandable that people get frustrated by not seeing any benefits from it. But with this comes another major, fundamental lesson: full acceptance. Meditation isn’t about doing anything or getting anywhere. The mind thinks it’s what it does (I would know). We have unpleasant emotions, it’s just how it is. What meditation does is helping me avoid qualifying them all as good or bad. Thoughts and emotions are valid and worth acknowledging, but we don’t necessarily have to get so involved with them, change them, or rationalize them — there’s no point. Resisting just adds another layer of stress.
This started to translate to other parts of my life outside the practice, like allowing myself to try new hobbies without thinking too much about potential failure. Accepting my own experience and being at peace with how things are is what it’s all about, but it requires trust.
I’m by no means an expert. I’m still constantly working on all these, and I struggle. But meditation has definitely become one of my main tools of self-care.