Meditation – Six benefits, Six Months On

Meditation is a practice enjoying a spike of popularity in western culture. It is certainly becoming less stigmatised.

Despite the growing amount of exponents and practitioners, it is a habit that is frustratingly difficult to adapt into a modern lifestyle. Some earnestly try, a few succeed, and quite a few fail.

My own experiences with meditation have been difficult. The beginnings brought frustration, anxiety, and embarrassment. Without seeing immediate benefits I was quick to blame the activity, believe that it was “not for me”, and blow away any potential.

But I did stick with it, perhaps for nothing more than the luxury of free time. I’m overwhelmingly happy that I did, and though it has been a bumpy ride involving frustration, laziness, and even apathy, the six month mark has brought visible benefits.

Being is a verb too

A common cause of anxiety in my life is a flagellant focus upon doing. At its least, this is an impulse to perform, to be productive. At its worst, I find myself ignoring my own enjoyment and presence in daily experience. This is not an uncommon complaint; I’m no unique psychological snowflake and you can spare me the Freudian sofa.

We continuously feel that we should “do”. Even into our free time, even in moments that are to be savoured. In the same vein, we ignore the importance and meaning of what it is to “be”. Doing is an activity with a purpose, a task, a means towards an outcome or goal. Being is an expression of the self, of personality, of enjoying and sharing a moment with others.

Meditation has consistently enabled me to “be” present in moments that bring me happiness. I focus more upon others, and express myself better. The ability to be present in a moment drastically improves your relationship with others.

Less anxiety

If I were to tell you the main reason I attempted meditation, I would tell you about a constant underlying anxiety in my life. Productivity related anxiety, social anxiety; I’m not sure how I would best label it. It was just there.

To deal with this, I held the belief that you were the master of your emotions at all times. By resisting an emotional state you would be able to morph it into something more productive. This causes tension, anxiety, and resentment for the build up of “unwanted” emotions. A cocktail of instability. Sleepless nights.

I feel not only much more aware of emotions that cause me discomfort, but also acceptant. We are subject to such a wide spectrum of states and feelings; to suppress their unique messages would sever the important relationship between your mind and body.

I feel I have the increased ability now to understand emotions, interpret, and move on.

Understanding others

Understanding your own emotions can also allow you to better empathise with others. Coming to appreciate your own spectrum of feelings reveals mind-blowing richness in texture and scale. Other people are no different. I feel less angry with others when I don’t get my way; thinking of reasons why they may feel or act in their certain way.

Similar results, less effort

A problem has exhausted and broken your resolve. You continue to bash your head away, your mind moves in two dimensions. This is a pointless frustration that everyone shares.

It is infinitely better when we come back later. Come back more focused. The Pareto Principle[1] applies to your own actions also. Prohibiting yourself from resting and recuperating your way into a more effective state of mind will result in wasted time and energy. Meditation has allowed me to work less, while achieving the same (or even better) results.

Needing less sleep

I don’t need to sleep so much. I’m unsure of whether this is a commonly reported observation. Twenty minutes meditation feels exactly the same as a powernap, without the inconvenience of having to fall unconscious. This is huge for me; I no longer need to lie down, try to fall asleep, and reboot.

Anchoring a default emotional state

Regularly and consciously attaining a certain positive emotional state every day strongly anchors it to your personality. The more frequently you feel a certain way, the more you associate it with your default or natural state of being. Meditating habitually makes it easier for you to bookmark the feeling of calm and return to it from a later page. More often I am finding myself reverting to calmness and clarity as opposed to anxiety and restlessness.

Six months, six benefits, and six parting words:

You should really try this too.

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[1] The “80/20” rule : 80% of result generally comes from 20% of the causes

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pareto_principle

Balancing Stress

I have an ambivalent relationship with stress. I think many others share this trait; I’m not such a special and interesting snowflake, and I can’t be the only one who feels this way. I have nurtured a love/hate relationship with my dear friend cortisol; our fiery arguments are now and then neutered by a hurried make up.

 

I never truly felt stress until I was 19. Even still, I remember a transitional period rather than a wrenching and eye-opening introduction to the adult world of achievement anxiety, self-criticism, and personal development. I had begun to engage in a rapid succession of self-improvements and personal revolution, building the blocks for a new, self-deterministic identity. I identified with self-improvement. I felt the desire to achieve as a new and burning commandment; though must succeed. I became addicted. Stress was life.

 

From a narcissistic perspective, my life became far better. I developed a routine of exercise, healthy eating, and a saturated social life. I was stronger, healthier, and more confident. My grades were better, and I pushed to meet more people. These changes came at a cost; intrinsic feelings of self-esteem and enjoyment slowly crumbled. My whole sense of self was centred upon achievements, popularity, and productivity, and the net of self-acceptance became severed. The act of self-improvement involves the acknowledgement of weakness. From this, an estranged relationship with stress was born.

 

Stress was the life force that pushed me forward, and salvaged me from the grips of mediocrity. Stress was the separation between a lower and higher state of being and awareness. Stress was the beginning of adulthood, and the replacement of the inner sense of natural well-being we possess as children. I muse over what caused this switch, I still couldn’t tell you. Something had changed.

 

The danger of progressive change is in adaptation. You accept each step along the journey. A marathon runner may train for a 5k, push for six, and then move on to ten. By this stage the previously daunting six becomes a formality. For me, the culmination of stress and anxiety steadily built in an unrecognisable progression. I adapted to my feelings and circumstances.

 

Things reached a tipping point. By the time I turned 21 stress riddled my life, and I was no longer allowing myself to enjoy simple moments. I felt anything unproductive was a waste of time. I struggled to muster the energy to focus my passions. I formed a stress related bottleneck, afraid that I wasn’t maximising my potential every single second of every single day. I became increasingly aware this had to change.

 

I spent a lot of my time so far in Australia removing the toxic anxiety from my life; listening to music for an hour became a joy, I began to practice meditation. I found I could happily give my time to helping others and remove the focus from my own self for extended lapses of time. It worked. I felt euphoric, a feeling that has since plateaued and strongly established itself in my present. I have recovered joy in the simplest moments. It has been a beautiful time. I feel alive. Paradoxically, I see better results in my hobbies, life direction, relationships, and physical health than ever before. Had stress; the life force I so strived to cultivate for self-improvement, been my ruin? If you water a plant too much, it will die.

 

Stress was shut away, but has wasted no time creeping back in. I submissively unbolted the door and welcomed it back. My satisfaction plateaued. I felt lazy. The total absence of stress was not the answer. I realised that things were not so black and white and that feelings of existential discomfort did in fact possess purpose. Stress does serve a purpose; it regulates the fine balance between work and relaxation. Perhaps this is why we live our lives in such a peculiar way, swinging between extremes of tension and relaxation. We work; we rest, in distinctive allotments. Most of western civilisation leave their house, spend 8-10 hours in a state of stress, return home, and relax. Our recharge period consists of a weekend. During this time we once again reassume a blissful state of relaxation, usually facilitated by gratuitous spending and alcoholic beverages. The moments I have truly felt the most relaxed and at peace have followed periods of intensive work and pressure. Are we designed to be creatures of extremity that can live only in two categories – exhorbitant comfort and ball-busting pressure? Is the true purpose in life to beat the system and strike the idyllic balance between stress and peace of mind, in order to breeze effortlessly through both life’s rigours and joys?

 

Stress regulates your life and achievement. Without stress we would never prepare for the future, we would not change our circumstances, and we would lack the impetus to elicit positive change. Stress is an archaic discomfort that at a base level keeps us aware and alive, but torments the higher functioning state of mind we have developed in advanced and complicated society. It is badly adapted to modern life. Humans at the most basic level, like animals, have their lives directed and driven by stress. The modern human cannot accept this, and must take the reigns and steer, handling their own emotional welfare. The productive energy that keeps you alive and moving can quickly imprison you if unregulated.

 

Things are different now. Stress helps me steer myself into the fantastical sweet spot between productivity and contentment, challenge and ease. It is an influencing force that tugs at the other end of the rope. It is my role to decide whether I should tug back, and just how hard. Stress can show me that something is wrong; it can positively move me when I don’t want to be moved. In this moment, cortisol and I have shed our differences for a common understanding.