Summer 2018

The end of an era. Just a year earlier I’d signed the papers for what I’d thought would be my home for many years to come. A 3800 sq ft house on almost six acres in Southern New Jersey, where the vision was a conscious community center for folks to learn and heal and grow together. Unfortunately, this wouldn’t be how things unfolded.

Instead, for a variety of reasons, the vision quickly vanished, the community experience imploded, and I was caught in the undertow. I was crushed. I began spending a lot of time isolating. Disappointment, bitterness, and resentment flourished. There were fits of rage and puddles of tears. I went days without showering or speaking with another human being. I was heading back to bed for depression naps before noon. Sh*t was ugly and heavy and the future didn’t look any better. This was easily the darkest point in my journey since active addiction.

As is usually the case though, darkness births brilliance and out of pure necessity to function, I began to meditate every day. Up to that point, I’d been a fairly regular meditation practitioner, but I’d never been able to get over the hump and become a daily meditator. Apparently this was what was going to be needed to make that happen.

At first, it was torture. My mind was wildly out of control. Five minutes of meditation felt like an eternity. Excuses and reasons not to meditate came a mile a minute and were super convincing. Judgment, regret, shame, guilt, blame, anger, sadness, despair… you name it, it showed up. Waves and waves of it. But I had nothing to lose, and nothing better to do, so I just kept leaning in. I just kept hitting the cushion each day. I just kept letting myself feel and notice and experience wave after wave. Sometimes I’d fall over and weep. Other times I’d clench my fists as tight as I could and let loose guttural screams that probably scared the neighbors. It was super f*cking intense.

Gradually, five minutes became ten minutes. And then ten became twenty. The excuses and reasons not to meditate became less tempting. Some days I’d just wake up and sit my *ss on the cushion without even thinking about it. After a week or so of sitting every day, I found that I could make it until 1pm in the afternoon before my depression nap. I noticed that the thoughts didn’t go as dark as quick. The mind wasn’t as vicious or volatile. The emotions weren’t as loud or intense and didn’t last as long. I started showering. I started returning phone calls and even socializing a little bit. The daily meditation practice was helping ease the storm.

With a little relief from the ugliness and heaviness, I realized I needed more time and space for myself to heal and get clear before I made any major decisions about my future. I attended a 10-day silent meditation retreat in Texas. After that, I returned to Peru to spend nine days in the jungle participating in Ayahausca ceremonies. And then I finished up my healing odyssey with a week of relaxing in Sedona, AZ to rest and integrate. Eventually my next move became obvious. It was time to let go of the center. It was time to move on. That next month I was offered a teaching position at a community college in Oregon. I moved out west a month after that, and left the dream of the center behind.

I’ve had to do a lot of processing and feeling and releasing related to letting go of that center. It was easier in the beginning to be mad and point fingers, but I’ve been able to get more and more honest with myself over the years and take more and more responsibility for my role(s) in how things unfolded. I feel really blessed these days to have been presented with such a rich experience to learn from (and continue learning from). Of all the benefits though, my daily meditation practice, which began during that challenging time, has easily been one of the most valuable gifts of my ongoing healing and recovery.

Being able to start every day with a period of time where I simply rest and observe my experience, without needing to do anything about it, has been tremendously transformational. I’m not hounded by thoughts the moment I wake up. I’m not in a rush from the moment I open my eyes. I don’t feel compelled to come up with a solution for every problem that my mind spits out. Instead, I’m able to participate in my life more consciously and intentionally and move in a way that feels more aligned with the kind of experience I want life to be.

I really can’t recommend incorporating a daily meditation or mindfulness practice into your life enough. It doesn’t have to be something super formal or look a certain way. And you don’t necessarily have to wait for sh*t to get real dark and hairy. It just has to happen. And if it happens, well, you’ll see the results for yourself.