Meditation and I have been in a rocky, but long-term relationship. It hasn’t always been easy, but it seems that recently, we’ve found a nice little (almost) daily rhythm.
It first started the year I graduated university, when my professor and friend, Paul Backer, gave me a book of Pema Chodron. It took me six months or so to read it, but when I did, I found it life changing. Filled with resonance and truth, I proceeded to read every book Pema ever wrote. But beyond that, I didn’t register that to grow, I had stop doing and sit there, as the phrase goes.
My actual practice started in New York, in 2009. I met a yoga and meditation teacher who taught at the gym where I worked. He was truly marvelous – compassionate yet incisive, incredibly patient with all my drama (and there was a lot) and introduced me to Shambhala philosophy and meditation. I was incredibly blessed as to have been invited into his tiny, 15 year old meditation group that met weekly. It was profoundly difficult to start by sitting for 40 minutes at a time, but sit I did. I did everything “wrong” – I fidgeted and moved, I indulged in my story-line, I cried all.the.time – but I stayed, so that was enough.
I also developed my home practice, slowly but surely. I built up from 5 minutes to 10, then 20, then 30, then 40. I had my own little routine that I did each morning, and I loved it. But, as things do, it escaped me over time. I broke up with my then-boyfriend, I moved, and moved, and moved again.
Fast forward to Australia, and I found myself really craving the deep connection and spirituality I found from meditation.
So, I decided to do it, minimum five minutes a day, every day. And it has NOT been perfect, nor every day, even. But it is most days, and I find that I really love it. I love my sunny spot on the porch, I love the time alone with my G-d and my breath, and I love the space it creates in my heart.