Meditation

Like a glass of Syrah or Cabernet Sauvignon, meditation can turn dark and dense, but the rewards are rich and velvety.

Defining meditation is kind of like defining pasta. We associate it with Italy and feel confident we know what pasta is. But the more we learn, the more complicated it gets. Pasta (or noodles) may have originated in China, and there’s evidence to suggest pasta was around in Greece and North Africa well before Italy. 

What we do know about meditation is that its roots stem from ancient India. It was considered a limb of yoga rather than a separate “lane”—so to detangle meditation from yoga would risk missing the point. We know the Indian sage Patanjali defined yoga through eight limbs: Meditation was limb #7, presumably because there’s a bunch of stuff we need to do to prepare ourselves for the hard stuff. The “payoff” is limb #8, samadhi, which translates to complete harmony of the Self with the Universe.

These days, most people think of Buddha when they think of meditation. Buddha’s the Italy of pasta, and it’s a fine place to start. We need some image, some center of gravity to help us start the journey. So simply put, meditation is the practice of directing or observing our cognitive and emotional processes. The “goals” (if we can call them that) range from wellbeing, mental clarity, spiritual insights, and liberation.

How to Start Sampling

  • Even if you don’t know anything about him, you probably know the iconic image of Buddha seated in lotus pose with a blissful expression across his face. I hate to break it to you, but you’re not Buddha—so why do you expect to look like him?

    Sitting lotus is not something we normally do, nor is sitting beneath a Bodhi tree or on top of a mountain. It’s just not realistic to think our practice will resemble the “Awakened One.” So stop trying to be Buddha and arrive in the 21st century.

  • Like many spiritual samples, space is a key component to the practice. It’s helpful to put yourself in a zone that feels different from your everyday life. So even if it’s locking yourself up in the bathroom and lighting a candle; or sitting by a plant in your bedroom; or lying on a cushion near a window, you can create a meditation space. It doesn’t have to be fancy.

    If you have relatives, housemates, or live in a 6-person sardine apartment in NYC, I highly recommend ear plugs or noise cancelling devices. You won’t need to rely on these forever, but in the beginning, people can really agitate your practice.

  • You know how they say time is a construct? Well, nowhere is that more apparent than in meditation. Five minutes can feel like an eternity or it can fly by, depending on the day.

    Remember that a little goes a long way. One minute of mindful breathing can make all the difference (I sometimes do this in between work meetings, especially if I know the next call is going to rattle my ego or push my buttons. Even one minute calms my nervous system down so that I show up with a better attitude.) 

    Do a short meditation and—here’s the key—continue keeping it short. Don’t try to add on one minute each day, otherwise meditation will start to become a “thing”—and once it’s a thing, you’ll find reasons why you can’t fit it into your life. This goes against what a lot of teachers instruct, but I vehemently believe that once we view meditation as “additive,” we’re more likely to skip it because we can’t fathom adding another thing to our jam-packed lives. 

    So get in and get out. It’s a psychological game you’re playing, which may lead to you craving longer sessions in the future (but it’ll be out of desire, not obligation). 

  • Weird shit happens in meditation, and it really changes by the day. 

    There are times when it’ll touch your wounds or hidden fears, and suddenly you’re drowning beneath an emotional tsunami. During those meditations, it’s about feeling the feelings long enough to let them pass through you. You’re not looking to solve a problem or reach enlightenment—you’re just using the time to let the emotions flow (and they do need a chance to be felt). 

    There are other times when you’re calm and start to observe your thoughts for what they are—just thoughts. During those meditations, you experience a growing distance between you and your thoughts, edging closer to the ephemeral nature of things. Those moments can grant peace and clarity.

    Finally, there are the transcendental states that experienced meditators speak of. These can range from Divine union to Divine nothingness, and is often the goal for many seekers. Truthfully I’ve only experienced these meditations a handful of times, but I can say that the visions and insights stuck with me.