I’m doing 1000 days of meditation. I started this past February, sort of on a whim, and told myself I would meditate 10 minutes a day, everyday. I had the sense that such a project would be appropriate for my 2023 theme of Truth, but it is only recently that I’ve started to see how.
Meditation can sometimes feel a little silly and pointless. Essentially, you aim to sit quietly and bring awareness to your breath, body, and/or mind with curiosity, openness, and equanimity.
Of course, on most of the 120 days I’ve meditated so far, (yes, I’ve missed one, but just one), I spend my daily ten minutes shuffling through to-do lists, regretting something snarky I said to a friend, doom-casting about the end times, or daydreaming about what to make for dinner. If I’m lucky, at some point, I remember that I’m supposed to be meditating, and try to refocus…until I wander off again.
But then, something happens, and you realize that, actually, all that practicing is paying off.
Last week, I got into an argument with my husband. I reached this familiar moment in which I was ready to fall into this spiral of shame and belief that I am a broken, unlovable drama queen, and I just want to disappear. But, as I folded into a ball on the couch, starting to take the old plunge, the strangest thing happened.
I heard a little voice in my head say, “Stay here. Just stay here.”
I did as it said. I focused on my breathing and stared at my knees and the couch cushions. Another voice in my head was trying to butt in with a torrent of criticism and judgment, but, just like in meditation, I kept my attention on my breath.
“Stay here….Stay here…..Stay here…..”
In a minute or two, the feeling passed. And with a lot less pain than usual.
One of the goals of meditation is to provide you access to the truth of your experience, as opposed to getting lost in all the stories you imagine about it. “Vipassana,” is a style of meditation that means “to see things as they really are.”
In staying with my breath during this intensely emotional moment, I realized that, in reality, I was a person, sitting on a couch, breathing. The litany of criticism wasn’t actually happening. It was just a voice in my head. A story. An illusion. And I didn’t have to believe in it. I didn’t have to suffer in it.
I could stay with the truth.
Have you ever had a moment in which you could see the truth clearly? Share your answer in Mother Den.
Danielle LaSusa Ph.D. is a Philosophical Coach, helping new moms grapple with what it means to make a person. She is the creator of The Meaning of Motherhood course, which explores the changes in identity, meaning, and wisdom that come with motherhood. To join her mailing list, subscribe here.
© Copyright Danielle LaSusa PhD, LCC, 2021. All rights reserved.
