This is a photo of me meditating. My usual place of meditation is on a prayer mat on a picturesque wooden balcony in Bali.
Just kidding. That’s not me—though the photo really is of a woman doing yoga in Bali.
In reality, I sometimes meditate in an awkward cross-legged position on my rumpled bed, in the dark in the suburbs of Washington, D.C. Other times I meditate, um, not at all.
I would like to meditate more often. My trouble is, I often tense up while meditating. The more I try not to tense up, the more tense I get. By the time the session is over, I often have a headache and muscle pain and feel awful. And yet, I have, on rare occasions, had blissful sessions that leave me feeling relaxed, refreshed, and at peace.
It’s easy to diagnose my problem: I’m trying too hard. The solution is harder to come by. Robert Wright, in his book Why Buddhism Is True, notes that meditation presents a paradox:
“You can best achieve success at meditation by not pursuing success, and achieving this success may mean caring less about success, at least as success is conventionally defined.”
Wright points out that meditation teachers tend to discourage students from thinking in terms of success and failure, advising them to avoid judging a meditation session as good or bad. At the same time, it’s obvious to him (and to me) that a session in which anxious thoughts race around at high speed (or in which muscles tense up in full panic mode) is not really what the meditator is going for.
The goal is to stop caring about success, whereupon it might arrive. I’ve tried this, with mixed results—probably because I tried something in the first place. It seems that my anxieties are preventing me from using meditation as an anti-anxiety technique. Tips, anyone?
The conundrum is certainly there: defeating the practice by having an expectation (of benefit) from the practice. I do find I’m usually more “successful” when I sit without an agenda (not to feel at peace, not to connect with myself…just to sit and practice). It also helps to label your thinking as “thinking” (this advice from Pema Chodron). If I find myself focusing on my sore back and wondering how long I can sustain the pose, I recognize this as my monologue, label it “thinking” and then focus on my breath again. No self judgment; just observation of what I’m experiencing.
Thanks so much. . . . This all seems like good advice. I like your phrasing of “sit without an agenda.” 🙂
At the times of anxious thoughts, grab a paper and pen and write those down, like stream of consciousness. The words don’t have to make sense. When you’re done tear up the pages and discard – you don’t need to ever re-read what you purged
This is interesting advice as well. I have not tried this one.
In short: good things happen when you least expect it. Free your mind and let things happen.
Thanks for the upbeat message! 🙂
Sometimes, laying on the floor, rather than sitting awkwardly really helps to relax the mind and the body. I know that meditating books suggest that laying down is not good form, but if one’s back is straight and supported, one can get a good start of what it feels like to meditate without distractions.
If you sit, let your back be supported by a chair or the wall. It’s less distracting.
Let the mind do what it does well- think! Don’t try to tame it. It’s impossible.
Thanks for the suggestions! I usually fall asleep when meditating lying down . . . but I could certainly try supporting my back a bit better. 🙂
That is all excellent advice, and now I feel self conscious about point out that I’ve never actually heard of a line-in-the-sand structure against meditation and wine
Hmmmm… might be worth a try!! 😉