The first time I meditated, the soothing voice on the app instructed me to picture myself sitting beside a road, watching my thoughts zip by like passing cars.
Seemed simple enough.
Too cheap to sign up for an actual class, I had downloaded the Headspace app during the Covid lockdown period and activated the 7-day free trial– just to see if I liked the practice or not. I figured that since I am home attending to virtual meetings, I might as well learn some techniques to stave off mental exhaustion.
After browsing through a surprisingly attractive and breezy menu of meditation courses, I f figured that I should start with the Basics. Plugging in my earphones, I sat on the floor, crossed my legs, closed my eyes and made a sincere effort to follow the instructions.
What happened next was about as far from “Japanese zen garden” as you could get. I was supposed to observe any thoughts that arise as vehicles that are traversing the highways of my mind. The idea was not to focus on any one thought as it zoomed by but to just observe these passing thoughts. However after about 2 minutes, my mind turned into the scene of a mental multi-vehicle pileup– an absolute wreck of to-do lists, anxieties, half-formed thoughts and reminders to reply to messages I’d ignored for way too long.
It was then I realized: my brain never stops. It’s always thinking, always processing.
It took me embarrassingly long to understand that meditation isn’t about silencing these thoughts. It’s about acknowledging them– kind of like politely nodding at every colleague who steps in and out of the Menara Maxis elevator every morning while you patiently wait to get off on the 23rd floor.
Because once you recognize these thoughts and emotions, you can decide what to do with them. I like to think of meditation as running a nuclear plant– you constantly monitor the levels of reactive fuel rods without letting them spiral into a catastrophic meltdown of white-knuckled panic attacks.
At the end of that first session on that app, did I feel enlightened? No. Did all my troubles disappear? Also no. But for the first time, I felt a little detached from them– like my worries didn’t define me.
However, I learnt one very important lesson.
Sitting in a lotus position for 15 minutes did cut off circulation to my legs and getting up was an unexpected challenge.
Inner peace is great, but next time, I’m sitting on a cushion.