Incorporating a daily meditation practice into my life has kept me more or less calm during a time in our collective lives that would have broken or damaged a previous version of myself. The past three years or so have been traumatizing for all of us – and I mean all of us. Anyone who has been alive and aware on this planet for the last three years has experienced the trauma of a worldwide pandemic, and I fear no one is fully acknowledging and confronting the demons unleashed through this. Rather than bringing us together, it feels like things are splintering further apart. Maybe we need to break down completely before we rebuild for real. Humans are so often stupid that way, and I mourn for our nonsense.
When confronted with that dismal realization, and how awful we can be to each other, I tend to retreat a bit, to return to our home, and to the centered and calm heart of the day, which is my meditation practice. Whatever bothersome thoughts race across the mind at the start of the session eventually slow and still and dissipate, so that by the end of it, after the focused deep breathing, the stillness and silence, all that remains is a blank space of peace. The worries and concerns return, of course – that’s the reality of life – but they feel blunted, their power diminished, their hold not as paralyzing. That’s the magic of meditation.
