The Accidental Meditator

Mediation is a skill that I thought I would probably pick up at some time in my life — much like juggling or mastering Spanish (still haven’t mastered those.)
Meditation has taken on an almost mystical pursuit to me; something that you have to take a course in, something that you have to carve out a week to go an a retreat to fully, really master it.
So, naturally, it kept getting put off.
I tried a morning meditation class a few years ago; despite me packing my own blocks and bolsters, and knowing that a traditional cross-legged pose has never worked me, I planned on sitting through the class in a supported heroes pose.
Despite all precautions I took, I felt my right leg going numb and falling asleep. So quiet was the class, and so deep into the meditation were my classmates, that I actually remember making the decision to not move and to possibly lose my leg. “We’ve had a good run,” I thought. “But I’m clearly going to have nerve damage by the end of this class.”
Worrying about losing a limb was not exactly the perfect zen-like state of mind I was after.
Recently, I was having a stressful workday, and I decided to step away from my desk to clear my head. What did I need? I didn’t need to eat anything, I didn’t want a nap or to go for a walk. I was well hydrated, too, so that wasn’t it.
So, I just sat on the edge of my bed, closed my eyes, and concentrated on my breath. In, out. I found myself drifting away — but not to sleep. In fact, I made note of the fact that — as relaxed as I was — I was still very much alert and aware. I could still hear random sounds in the house, but for some reason, I just made note of them. They didn’t throw me off. I was still aware of having thoughts — but an image of me floating came into my mind. I was flying above the clouds, and nestled just under the clouds were my thoughts. They were there; I knew they were there; I was just simply *aware* of them, without thinking them.
Twenty minutes passed without me even knowing it.
I did it!
All this time, I had been overthinking meditation, believing that I had to be officially *taught* how to do it, that the conditions had to be absolutely silent and perfect in order for it to happen. (If that was the case, *nobody* would meditate.)
I should know better: I coached a yoga instructor a few years ago who said she meditates on public transit and on park benches. Often slumped over. This idea that one needs to sit reed-tall, staring at a candle flame with soft music in the background needlessly complicates the process and sets the stage for a pursuit that could hardly ever happen if conditions had to be that optimal. They *don’t*. All you need is the ability to sit (or stand) safely and be able to focus on your breath. Full stop. If I tap into completely *feeling* my breath; if I can visualize drifting *over* my thoughts; and if I can completely give my myself over to that moment, nothing’s preventing me from meditating in line at the bank, sitting and waiting for an appointment, or putting my computer on sleep mode and meditating in my office chair instead of grabbing a snack or caffeine.
Just like in savasana, we *go* somewhere in meditation. I’m intrigued about where/what that “place” is; I’m looking forward to exploring that place, and I eagerly look forward to the next time I can meditate.
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