Self-Care toolkit - #3 Meditate
When I first attempted to meditate, I found I just couldn't do it. I'd start but moments later the chatter, distractions and stress would enter my head and I felt more unsettled than I did before I began. But I didn't give up and perhaps I was spurred on to prove that I wasn't a lost cause. I’ve done that a lot over the years, to prove I can do something because I didn’t feel I had control in other areas of my life. But you see with practice, trial and error, even ditching it for a time and coming back to it again, I did arrive at a meditation routine that worked for me, albeit a winding journey.
I settled on an approach with a very specific breathing technique that had me inhaling deeply, holding my breath for a few seconds, at most ten, and exhaling slowly out of my mouth. Over the ten-minute meditation session, I gradually held my breath for shorter time periods until my breathing returned to normal, very shallow, in and out through my nostrils only. This method worked a treat for a long time until it didn’t, until I felt there was something missing, the mojo of the experience waned and I needed more to keep me engaged and stop the mind wandering. I had to find a more immersive experience.
One evening while random channel hopping, I stumbled upon the World War II movie "The Thin Red Line". It's a slow-moving serious affair, focusing on the war in the Pacific. I enjoyed the movie immensely and the music score by Hans Zimmer was excellent, as always. The following morning, instead of silent meditation, I played the "The Thin Red Line" movie soundtrack and kicked off the ten-minute timer. A wonderful thing happened that session. The music brought back the scenes of the movie and I started to visualise in unison with my breathing, in pace with the cadence of the movie. I’d begin by seeing myself on the ship that carried soldiers to one of the Japanese Islands. I’m on the top deck walking the wooden boards towards black iron stairs, where I climb to a seat and sit facing towards the stern. The smoke from the engine chimneys, plumes out and over me creating a ghostly path home. My breath holding is now growing shorter in length as I start back down the stairs where I notice I'm clothed in full army surplus and kit. I’m on the rope ladder now climbing into a boat full of silent soldiers for the journey to the island.
I look out over the waves hitting against the small transfer boat as the Island looms larger on our approach. The men are quiet and it's more or less the same scene from the movie. The sky is blue and I have the impression it's hot and humid, but I can't feel the warmth. I disembark to a white beach with an expansive wall constructed of trees that hides the jungle beyond. Natives appear and drape flower wreaths over our heads. We walk through the wall of trees and out to a clearing with a bank as cover where beyond is a large hill. The hill extends steeply and is covered in tall grass right to the top. Climbing the hill now, my weapons belt and associated gear fall away as I stride through the long green grass, hands outstretched feeling the bend and flow of the thick green waist high cover. I ascend to the top of the hill and the guns are silent unlike the movie.
When I reach the top, I stand on the dunes, a beach and the sea stretch out in front of me. I jump into the air and fly down the dunes, over beach out to the ocean, skirting closely to the surface, arms outstretched and close enough to see my reflection as I purposely smile at it and deliberately drive a vein of confidence through my being as I head out to sea. A war destroyer appears and as I reach it, I turn ninety degrees and straight up heading for the clouds, through the cover and then eventually breaking Earth's atmosphere, beyond the Kármán line and out into space. I look back down on the earth, drink in the view for a time and start my return. Into the atmosphere again towards and through the clouds until I can see the insignificant spot that is the island and then a spec that is the ship comes into view as I keep descending. Dropping beside the ship once again, I bank ninety degrees and fly parallel to the ocean, looking at my smiling reflection as I try to imagine the feel of the shoots and splashes of water from the waves as I speed back to the island. Flying now up over the dunes to the hill where I stop at the top to look back out over the open fetch of the sea. I sit crossed legged and listen to the waves break on the beach and try hard to feel the warmth of the sun on my face. At this stage I am breathing shallowly through my nose and I’m calm, relaxed as sit there until the ten-minute timer is up.
After a few sessions the routine became consistent and automatic, always ending on the top of the hill crossed legged for at least a minute before the countdown ended. Overall, the experience was wonderful and I always felt refreshed. But as we know, and probably because we are human, all things change and for some reason this meditation practice wasn’t a keeper and I lapsed for a time and stopped until I found a new approach.
Your meditation journey is very specific to you, just like the tools in your self-care toolkit. Being unique, there is no right or wrong way for you to meditate, whatever you do, it is your way and perfectly okay to find it difficult to practice and keep a consistent routine. As long as you feel energised and empowered afterwards when you do manage to steal some time alone, you are on the right track. But remember also, everything changes, so surrender to this fact and know your meditation approach will change too and the fun is finding new techniques along the way.
