I never intended to start meditating. In the grand scheme of my life, finding time to sit still was never part of the plan.
It seemed a little crazy and completely counterproductive to getting the most out of life. Trying it years ago confirmed my suspicion that it wasn’t for me, as my logical mind couldn’t fathom the draw, or rationalize the investment of time and energy for the largely intangible rewards — I had things to do, places to go, people to see…
But when I came home after a year abroad, I had reverse culture shock and needed a way to deal with the stress of being back home. Yoga, my method of choice, was out (I’d injured myself) and I was craving the good vibes it instilled in me: calm, joy, deep gratitude for life. I was desperate for something, anything, and meditation seemed like it was worth another shot, so I decided to experiment with it once more.
Have you ever spoken into a microphone before the speakers kick in? A new meditation practice is like that. You start to wonder, Is this thing working? and hope that the technology gods reward you with a sign that you’re doing it right.
Not long after I started my daily practice, they delivered: My misgivings began to disperse as that same post-yoga bliss flooded my system. I finally got the point of meditation. And so the love affair began.
Two years later, we’re still going strong.