Finding my way

Recently, I went to a meditation retreat, and after a day I wanted to leave. I noticed that with each meditation session, I felt more strained, rather than relaxed, which was the reason I went on the retreat in the first place. I noticed I was getting restless with myself, as I tried to sit in meditation, focus on my breath, and be still.

My mind rolled around in judgment that things weren’t going well, and the more I tried to get it right, the more things went awry. My lungs were tired from concentrating on controlling my breath, as I kept trying to stop the constant chatter in my mind by focusing harder on my breathing.

Finally, by the end of the day, I went out for a long walk, and decided to call my husband on the cell phone. “You’re stretching yourself,” he reminded me. He was right. I went on the retreat to push past my current limitations and to step into some unknown territory. I hit against my own wall. I was trying too hard. I was trying to control my experience.

I knew that going on a retreat that involved many hours of daily meditation, although optional, would present challenges, and there I was encountering them — my resistance, my restless, my judgment.

Fortunately, the next morning I was able to have a conversation with the retreat teacher about what was happening. I shared with him how I noticed how much effort I was exerting in meditation, in forcing my breath, rather than receiving it. My breath felt strained. I was growing weary. I was trying too hard.

His advice: Relax in the practice. Let go.

This strained effort was symbolic of how I was living my life right now. Clutching. Looking to attain results instead of honoring the experience.  Demanding from myself — even to relax and to let go. Force. Will power. Excessive effort. These would not work here. But what?

“No one can tell you how to let go,” said the meditation teacher, “but you’ll know when you are there.” His insight: I could not use the kind of strained effort I had been using to reach a place of letting go inside myself.

My insight: I didn’t need to pressure myself to figure this out and get it right. I could lean into Divine support. So I prayed for the grace to let go, for the gift to breathe with ease. I realized that I didn’t have to make anything happen. I could allow my breath to enter me. I could receive my breath. I could trust. One breath at a time.

I sat on my meditation cushion. Receiving the breath. Not trying to breathe. Thoughts wandered in and out of the revolving door of my mind, but now with less forcefulness. At moments, I was even allowing the thoughts to breath through me,  letting the chaos and scattered feelings come and go, in between slices of stillness.

I chose to trust that I would find my way. It’s a daily journey.

What do you need to let go of so that you can breathe with more ease?