Sometimes we can be pushing so hard to find what is right for ourselves that we miss the fact that it is right under our noses.  For me, this truth was highlighted earlier today.

I’m a meditation therapist.  I have meditated in very many ways for decades, mostly not realising that what I was doing could even be described as a form of meditation.  Many times it was, I am now sure, escapism.   As a young child I disappeared into books.  My reality became the stories of Hans Christian Anderson, R.M. Ballantyne, and Jules Verne.  I also disappeared from this world into an alternate reality I described as ‘Walking with the Elephants’ and my partner for these ‘walks’ was huge, blue, protective, matriarchal elephant called Emily.   These were my means of escape from a world I found difficult to be in. 

From the westernised versions of ancient eastern practices to modern therapies, I have dabbled in many forms of meditation and, until a few years ago meditation was a fundamental, daily aspect of my life.  So what changed?

I did.  My focus changed dramatically when, within a meditation I hit a wall – a wall of fear and I turned away.  I still meditated, but my heart was no longer there.  I still taught meditation but kept to the bias of secular assistance for anxiety and stress – both things I know of intimately.

In the past couple of years I have been exposed to some of the deeper aspects of ancient meditation practices through my good friend and spiritual teacher of many years who is currently doing a deep-dive study of such things.  Today, within an open-eye mindfulness meditation, that wall of fear returned – and it hit me hard.

We later discussed, in depth, why this fear returned and the things we talked about made a lot sense on a personal level.  I won’t be doing that form of meditation again and there are a few factors in that decision.  I’m neuro-divergent and my mind got itself all twisted up.  Strangely, the innocuous words of “Just let it go” became a threat.  At first the ‘let it go’ bit was fine.  It was the word ‘just’ which triggered me.  There was no ‘just’ about letting anything go.  Letting go of something is not an easy thing and the word ‘just’ seemed to me, in that moment, to minimise something that was difficult to deal with.  And if I released whatever ‘it’ was?  Where would it go to?    And how can you release something without opening a gateway and risking a stampede.  Silly questions in most instances, but for me in that moment it was major.  It was an aggravation which triggered anger.  At times like these I cannot recognise the emotion.  I can’t describe it or understand it.  This is Alexithymia.  I don’t know I am angry – I only know that there is an overwhelming spiral of emotion.  I cry, I can’t help it.  I get embarrassed and even more anger arises.  Before I know it, I am spiralling downwards.

I do cycle through periods of high and/or low emotion and was probably due for a downward spiral – I’ve had several really good days and I have been gentle with myself – not pushing my boundaries very much.  It is good to be able to come out of such a spiral and to be able to gain some understanding of what happened and why. 

I came back into balance a few hours later.  And I did it through meditation.  Not anything that a large number of people would consider to actually be meditation, but for me it is right up there as a method – because, for me, it works. 

I live in a small town perched on the edge of the Coral Sea.  I went to the foreshore, sat on a bench overlooking the water and found my peace in the magnificent and raw beauty of the deserted island just off shore, the hypnotic movement of water, the warmth of the sun, the very gentle breeze and the flight of birds and insects. 

My truth is that this is where I feel whole.  No religious or spiritual belief is needed.  No demands to sit, or think or move in a specific way.   No ‘Just…’ demand which leaves me feeling as I am lacking.  No need for anything other than being within the energy and the life of this little part of this beautiful planet.

There is a need to understand that not every form of meditation is right for every person.  For some, the adherence to methods tried and tested over thousands of years is perfect.  For others, that adherence to something is not comfortable and can even be disturbing, especially when that discomfort is a pointer to the very things which need to be let go.

I have let go of so much.  I am not ready to let go of more.  I accept that and will go to my peaceful place on the edge of the ocean, and watch the clouds overhead form into fluffy animal shapes and feel that right now, for this moment, in this part of the turbulent world, there is a place which is peaceful.