The Art of Meditation

For many of us, the answer is probably not often enough.

We are remarkably good at looking after other people. We remember birthdays, anticipate needs, hold families together and keep businesses and households running. We spend so much of our lives being useful, dependable and available that we forget there is one more person who deserves our attention.

Ourselves.

Meditation is an act of self-love.

It is a decision to give ourselves a little space in which nothing is demanded of us. Just a few precious minutes in which we can put down the weight of the world and listen to what is happening inside our own heads.

Life has a habit of becoming noisy, even when you are alone. There are the conversations we replay long after they have finished, the decisions we cannot quite make, and the worries about, well, almost anything: our children, our parents, our relationships and our future selves.

For us ladies these questions can feel particularly pertinent. Many of our lives are changing shape. Those sandwich years everyone spoke about in my 40s seem to be upon me now. Children are finding their own way whilst parents are growing older.  Relationships are evolving, careers are morphing into new scenarios and the body we have inhabited for decades begins to demand a different kind of attention. A recalibration in our mind of what really matters is required.

We cannot always change the circumstances around us. But we can learn to create a little more space between what happens to us and how we respond.

That is one of the gifts of meditation.

No Hillside Required

For years I thought meditation belonged to other people. I’d sit down, and within minutes my impatience would get the better of me as I checked the time to see if I had reached 10 minutes.

I believed meditation required a Bali hillside, a smouldering stick of incense, a sunrise over the rice terraces and a linen kaftan, not to mention knees willing to spend an hour cross-legged on the floor without filing a complaint. I assumed incorrectly.

Yoga taught me the art of meditation almost without my noticing. Breath is at the heart of the practice: I learnt that moving into a pose, and holding it, becomes possible through the breath alone. In time, that breathing became a meditation in itself. Each slow inhale and exhale gently drew my scattered thoughts back to myself, and with them came a quiet, steady calm.

Long before I’d heard the word “mindfulness” I understood that body and mind are not separate departments. Self-love isn’t a bubble bath or another product to buy. It’s the decision to treat yourself with the same patience and kindness you give others.

Rather than trying to force our thoughts into silence, learn to notice them. Try to recognise a worry without allowing it to take over the entire day. To acknowledge a feeling without immediately needing to fix it. Sometimes, simply stepping back from our thoughts allows us to see them differently.

My meditation now is woven unassumingly into an ordinary day. No mountains, no gong. Just a dog walk with my phone left at home, a swim, or a few calm minutes before sleep. It has led to a slightly startling discovery: that when I stop talking, I have rather a lot to say to myself.

Don’t Think!

One of the biggest misconceptions about meditation is that we must somehow stop thinking. Anyone who has ever sat down in a quiet room and suddenly remembered every embarrassing thing they have said since 1997 will know how unlikely that is.

The mind wanders. It makes lists, invents problems, revisits old conversations and occasionally produces an inspired idea just when we are supposed to be concentrating on our breathing.

That is perfectly normal.

Meditation is not about achieving a perfectly blank mind. It is about noticing when our attention has wandered and gently bringing it back. There is something rather reassuring about this. We do not have to be particularly good at meditation to benefit from it. We simply have to be willing to begin.

You can sit on a cushion, in a favourite chair or at the end of your bed before the day begins. You can close your eyes or keep them softly open. You can follow your breathing, listen to a guided meditation or concentrate on the sounds around you.

And if five minutes is all you have, five minutes is enough to start.

What Stillness Does For Us

Meditation gives the body a chance to take its foot off the accelerator.

Stress isn’t only something we feel in our minds. When pressure hits, the body’s fight-or-flight response kicks in: adrenaline surges, the heart quickens, muscles tense and cortisol makes energy available. In short bursts, this protects us. The trouble comes when the pressure never lifts. An overflowing inbox or the constant demands of caring for others can leave us permanently switched on.

The research suggests meditation offers benefits to our body, our mind and our emotional wellbeing.

For the body

• A calmer nervous system.
• Heart health.
• Better sleep.
• A gentler relationship with stress hormones.

For the mind

• Less rumination.
• Sharper focus.
• Support for anxiety and low mood.

For the heart

• A pause before reacting. 
• Self-compassion. 
• Reconnection. 

A new beginning doesn’t have to be dramatic

Perhaps the significance of 10:10 isn’t that it holds extraordinary power, but that it reminds us to pay attention to our own lives. We imagine change needs a grand gesture: a new career, a new home, a new destination. Sometimes all requires is a little more kindness towards ourselves.

So this Saturday, take ten minutes. Sit quietly. Breathe. Listen.

You don’t need to become someone new. You may simply need a moment to come back to yourself.

And that, surely, is a rather beautiful place to begin.

Meditation can be a lovely support, but it’s not a substitute for professional help. If you’re struggling, please speak to your GP or call Samaritans free, any time, on 116 123