I used to practice Muay Thai kickboxing, and at the time,
this was my preferred form of meditation.
It might seem like a kind of violent meditation to outsiders,
but at the time, it was a complete refuge.
I started attending Muay Thai classes as a novel way to get some exercise,
but soon after I grasped the basic techniques, it turned into something else entirely.
After a long work day of managing projects and sitting in meetings,
I'd head to the dojo to release some of my pent-up energy
and clear my mind, because I found that it was absolutely impossible
to not be in the moment and not be in the present
when someone was swinging punches at my face.
As I put in more reps, I started to focus more on things like
giving into control and establishing my intent.
Learning to defend yourself involves visualizing situations
where someone might attack you, and though this visualization might
first feel like some kind of twisted version of mental self-harm,
it actually does the opposite.
Only once you acknowledge your weaknesses and insecurities can you start to address them,
and I learned that the only way to really gain true confidence is by facing your discomforts.
For me, this meant slowly learning to welcome the stress and give into it.
Ironically, fighting with all of your might to resist just really exhausts your defenses.
In order to keep calm, I had to focus on regulating my breathing and stay receptive,
so that I could be ready to react quickly when I saw an opening.
Unfortunately, this mode of "enlightenment" did not last for me very long.
Being a tall person gives you the advantage of a long reach,
but it also gives you a pretty weak core.
I didn't know enough about keeping my training symmetrical, so a few years ago,
I over-trained one side of my body, slipped a disc in my spine, and that was that.
Though I do truly still love the sport, at this point,
after all the physical therapy that I had to go through,
I'm not willing to risk any more damage.
I do still shadowbox around my apartment from time to time,
and when my back is feeling more solid, I might hit the heavy bag at the gym,
but surprisingly, the thing that I've missed most has been the mindfulness aspects.
That flight-or-fight response triggered a complete connection to the present moment
and had me digging deep to stay calm and responsive
rather than merely defensive in stressful situations.
I started learning this in class, but then I felt it trickling into my daily life as well,
and when I stopped fighting, I missed this feeling of having a completely blank,
completely present mind.
Thus: meditation.
I downloaded the "Calm" app 30 days ago - and this is not at all an ad for them -
I could have just as easily downloaded Headspace or used free meditations
online on YouTube or some other website.
I got Calm just from the recommendation from one of my friends.
I think I might be in love with Tamara Levitt.
Tamera does the voiceover for their "Daily Calm," which is the app's 10-minute guided meditation
that's updated to a new lesson every single day.
I made this 10 minutes part of my daily morning routine,
after I ate breakfast and emptied my thoughts into a journal for a few minutes.
It was extremely helpful as a way to - kind of - clear
some of my thoughts and ideas out of my head beforehand.
And then I'd put my headphones on, fix my posture, and press play on the Daily Calm,
and let me tell ya: every single time,
I hated it.
Dan Harris has this book called "Meditation for Fidgety Skeptics," and that's me.
I'm such a fidgeter.
I had no idea until this, but I can't stop fidgeting.
Once I've committed to something, I have no problem sticking to a daily routine,
and I have a long attention span - no problem focusing -
but man, I never realized how much I fidget.
Every single time I sat down to do this, my brain was,
"I hate this, I hate this, I hate..."
"But, I mean, deep breathing is really nice."
"I definitely need to soften my face a bit."
"My legs hurt. This sucksss."
"One of my feet is colder than the other one."
"This is so pointless."
"Wow, I must really need this."
And on and on and on.
I thought that meditation was supposed to be calming!
The app is called Calm!
But that's not at all how I felt.
Every single time I pressed play, I had to deal with a tidal wave of fidgeting,
hatred, shallow breathing, aches, pains, and discomfort,
but as I said earlier, you can only ever gain true confidence by facing your discomfort,
and even a tidal wave is going to recede back into the ocean.
I hated it, and then I loved it.
Just like Muay Thai, there's this initial fight-or-flight response, and then
there's the welcoming of stress - giving in and being receptive to it rather than resisting.
Focus on breathing. Be open. Stay here. Stay now.
This 10 minutes has now become something I look forward to
and has actually started to influence my days as well.
I find myself getting stressed out, and I'll take a minute to take a couple of deep breaths,
which was not at all something that I would do before this.
I even started using the sleep meditations that they have on the app
in order to fall asleep at night.
And I'm a super light sleeper, and it usually takes me an hour to fall asleep.
The first time I did it, it took less than 10 minutes, and i thought it was a fluke,
so I tried it again the next night - same thing.
And - uh - I can't NOT do it now.
I am obsessed.
Why would I NOT do it?
So although I no longer practice Muay Thai, I will be forever grateful for it.
I still have retained some of the strength and cat-like reflexes that I got from it,
but I'm also happy that I think i've found something that can provide me with a more
sustainable, long-term mindfulness exercise.
I am still very fidgety, and honestly, still a bit of a skeptic,
and I still have to deal with an angsty tidal wave of hatred every time I start.
At this point, I have no intention of stopping.
30 days down, 30,000 to go...
'til next time!
[click!]