I started meditating in the mornings because studies show that it helps clear the mind and improves focus. Well, I didn’t want to do just any old meditation. I wanted results fast. So I started a meditation that encouraged me to get into full pretzel lotus position as soon as possible. I thought if I could just get someone to sprinkle a little salt on top, someone might eat me and put me out of my misery.
This should have been effective because, instead of letting my mind race, I stretched myself beyond my limits. I gave myself something to think about, since it hurt like Hell!
The pain got so bad that I had to make an appointment with my psychiatrist. “Everything was going pretty well up to this point,” I pointed out.
“Meditation is supposed to be peaceful, a stress reliever, not torture,” she replied.
“No pain, no gain,” I said, miserably.
“That doesn’t apply to self-care,” she said. “We don’t call it self-abuse, for a reason.”
“Look,” I said, “I know it seems like I’ve been going for all-or-nothing here. I was just trying to get my brain focused by stressing it out, along with my body, so that when I’m done, every cell in me would think that regular life is a piece of cake.”
She looked at me like I had my eyeballs in my ears. “I’ll tell you what,” she countered, “If you’ll stop trying so hard to change yourself quickly, which has practically made you kill yourself with meditation, I won’t have try to warn you against extremes. Deal?”
“Deal,” I answered.
I walked out with plans to train for my first pentathlon, as soon as possible.