A few months back, I found myself in a state of complete overwhelm. My marriage felt strained, my kids were demanding, our home seemed to be falling apart, and the incessant barking of our dog turned every delivery into a mini crisis. And then there was the chaotic whirlwind of our political landscape, which added an extra layer of stress. I was on the verge of losing it, alternating between fits of frustration and quiet tears. Juggling caffeine, a hectic schedule, and my persistent anxiety was exhausting, making it difficult to stay positive and present.
Recognizing that I needed a change, I explored various options like acupuncture, foot massages, and even the idea of a cleanse, though eliminating my favorite foods felt like torture. After chatting with friends and hearing a barista rave about her transformation through meditation, I decided to give it a shot. According to a report by the National Center for Health Statistics, nearly 18 million adults in the U.S. were meditating in 2012, and I was ready to join their ranks.
Meditation sounded fantastic, but being a skeptic, I did some research first. Guided meditation was recommended for beginners, ideally practiced first thing in the morning. The promised benefits included reduced stress, enhanced focus, improved memory, and even a slower aging process. All I needed to do was find a quiet spot, close my eyes, and breathe deeply. Oh, and commit to doing it every day. What if life got in the way? My five-year-old could catch a bug, or I could easily fall ill myself.
Could it be that the very thought of meditating was causing me anxiety? I refused to give up before even starting. I pushed my worries aside and downloaded a meditation app narrated by a soothing British voice named Tom. The next morning, I woke up early, settled into my favorite chair, and prepared myself for what I thought would be a transformative experience.
Tom assured me that some days would be easier than others. To be honest, I barely absorbed his words, as I was still half-asleep and missing my morning coffee. How effective could this be without caffeine? Regardless, I followed his instructions and focused on my breathing.
Then the neighbor’s dog began barking, which prompted our dog to join in. I tried to ignore it, but Tom instructed me to acknowledge the sounds around me. That was easier said than done as my heart raced, knowing a barking contest was about to erupt. I spent the remaining minutes of my session anxiously anticipating my kindergartner’s entrance, concerned about whether I’d packed enough lunches, and mentally reminding myself to schedule my next haircut before my stylist got too busy.
It was clear that my first day was one of the challenging ones. Nevertheless, I persevered, dutifully waking up each morning to sit and breathe. I wish I could say that after nearly two months of ten-minute sessions, I felt rejuvenated and calm, but that wasn’t the case.
During those quiet moments, I aimed to visualize positivity, only to find my mind drifting into stressful thoughts. I began pondering the exit routes in case our house caught fire, imagining what I’d do if an earthquake occurred while I was driving over the Bay Bridge (we live in Oakland), and on Tuesday mornings, desperately fighting the urge to check if my husband remembered to take out the trash.
Tom encouraged me to observe how my mind wandered, refocusing on my breath. Ironically, the more I tried to clear my head, the more my deeper worries emerged. Paradoxically, I felt more anxious and unmotivated in my daily life. I gained weight, neglected bills, and struggled to stay awake past 8 PM. I missed my anxiety-driven productivity, where at least I accomplished things.
My family might tell you I was nicer—after all, I wasn’t yelling as much—but I didn’t feel happier. Not being angry all the time was indeed an improvement, but I felt detached, questioning whether I was even doing meditation correctly.
After eight weeks of my meditation journey, I decided to stop. It’s possible I’ll revisit it when I’m ready, but for now, I’ll cling to the one lesson I learned, which is that sending positive vibes to those who cut me off in traffic feels much better than letting out a stream of curses.
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In summary, my venture into meditation turned out to be more stressful than serene. Despite my initial hopes for tranquility, I found myself overwhelmed with worries and distractions. While I may not have achieved the calm I sought, I did learn valuable lessons about mindfulness and managing stress in my own way.