There's this room where I've been going every day for the past three weeks, on the third floor of the Johnson Center at George Mason University.
I take off my shoes and sit down. To the outside observer, I'm not doing much. However, those 30 minutes are some of the most exciting, adventurous moments of my day. That's because I'm meditating.
For those who don't know, meditation is simply thinking about nothing. You attempt to empty the brain of thoughts and focus only on the slow rhythm of your breath.
It's frightening at first--all those random thoughts begin flopping around nervously like fish out of water. Their presence had accompanied me through most of my conscious life, and it was disorienting to finally give them the boot.
But with persistence, this absence of thought became immensely enjoyable. When I finished my meditation and slipped on my shoes, I would feel like sitting among songbirds and writing haikus.
Several times while meditating I felt almost transcendental. I thought about my consciousness and tried to "get to the bottom of it" so to speak, and I just lapsed into this far-out, mystical experience.
Each meditation is a new adventure, and I've tried pushing myself further out into the abyss of no-thought land every time. I will have a natural high for hours after meditating. Everything is all right with the world, and I want nothing more than to spread goodwill and be patient with people.
It became obvious to the outside eye that things had changed. I was once a wild gesticulator. I talked loudly and expressively: throwing my hands around in the air as I spoke, using huge facial expressions and using many exaggerations in my word choice.
However, I've become the opposite: I am relaxed and quiet. I speak softly and slowly. My hands are usually at my sides, and I phrase things modestly and precisely. The way I carry myself now could be summed up in one word: gentle. What was once "the greatest thing in the history of the world!" is now just "really nice, in my opinion." It's primarily an increase in self-control that has made me less hysterical in my body language and word choice.
I'm usually instantly skeptical of such radical changes. How can I judge that it was the meditation that made me change this way? Usually, I can't judge the effect certain lifestyle changes have on my mind since there's so much other stuff going on.
Yet the change in my personal style has been so obvious and drastic since I started meditating that it just seems clear to me. I've found myself less defensive and less ready to argue. I'm willing to sit and listen to a person speak, no matter how off-base their statements are. I've found myself constantly trying to bring cheerfulness and good tidings to everyone I talk to, even though my outlook on the world has not become the least bit more optimistic since I began meditation. I have begrudgingly become a spreader of peace and love.
I implore you to try this out. All it takes is either a mat or a chair (La-Z-Boys work just fine), peace and quiet, and a disciplined attempt to think of nothing and focus on breathing.
I started with about 10 minutes at first, although I'm now at 30. It may be hard to bring your mind into silence at first, and it might be bewildering--but keep at it! It made me at peace with myself and my environment, and while it's not a cure-all by any means, it has been a wonderful addition to my toolkit of methods for living well.
Joe Holmes is a freshman at George Mason University.