I started meditating for a practical purpose: it had been quite a long time since I was able to get a full night’s sleep. Without any apparent reason, I would keep rolling in the bed, worrying about how I’d feel in the morning. I was exhausted, falling asleep on the bus and, in general, whenever I was able to sit. I became nervous and aggressive towards other people—people who were trying to help me.
I had already tried many remedies, but nothing seemed to help much, and I refused to take pills because I was afraid of becoming addicted to them. Eventually, I decided to start with meditation. I was very skeptic about its effectiveness, but I didn’t have much more to lose, so I gave it a try.
I didn’t have any instructions and I never looked for them. My only experience with meditation was reading zenhabits. Every day for a week I used ten minutes of my time to turn off the lights, make a ridiculous attempt at getting into the lotus position, and focus on my breath.
I won’t lie to you: it was hard at first. As time passed, I got more and more frustrated with the uselessness of meditation. I wasn’t able to stay still, my back hurt as hell, and my sleep didn’t benefit from it. But I didn’t give up and kept practicing. Every day.
I was starting to get used to it, starting to see the beauty of quiet and peace. Then, one evening, something happened: as I sat there, my eyes closed, hearing nothing but my own breath and focusing on the air coming in and out of my nose, the complete darkness which surrounded me got even darker. I couldn’t have left my position even if I wanted to, because something kept me there. My back still hurt, but I didn’t care—actually, I completely forgot about it.
Suddenly, a smile appeared on my face. I have no idea why I was smiling, but it was a beautiful and overwhelming feeling. For no more than a minute, all my issues disappeared and I reached a profound happiness.
Nothing mattered but my breath and the position.
Nothing existed but my soul and the universe.
Meditation is so much more than the simple act of breathing: it has the potential to change how you live and react to things.
Through meditation you realize how harmful our way of living is, and that everyday issues don’t matter very much. You understand the beauty of our world, and how little we usually get to experience it. You feel pity for people who get angry for the smallest things, and you’d like to free them.
But remember: you’re no better than others. You’re still part of a society, still part of your world. Meditation won’t help you get detached from it, but it will teach you how to live in it.
I suggest that you start meditating right now. Just like it happened for me, it’s not going to be easy right from the beginning. Give it some time.
I’d like to have some advice to give you about meditation, but I’m no expert. A great place to learn on the topic is Leo Babauta’s blog, zenhabits. He also writes about minimalism and many other aspects of our lives that we don’t consider as much as we should.
I hope that you’ll find meditation as useful as I did. Nowadays, we’re so dependent on the doing that we completely forget about the being.