What was the last thing that made you impatient? Waiting for the coffee to brew? The dog to finish her business? Your child to fall asleep? We want things to happen in our own time, not theirs. And when we embark on a project of any complexity, we know, we know that more than likely it will take longer than expected, that there will be bumps in the road. But we ride on the slight euphoria of expectation and let that carry us through the beginnings. And then we hit a wall and everything seems to be taking much longer than we want.
It’s like that with most any long-term project, even and maybe especially the ones that are meant to soothe our souls. No matter where you are on your contemplative path, you are going to hit a wall or find that you want more results sooner. It’s safe to say that most things we learn are not immediately rewarding. There’s a lot of trial and error; hours of practice. Quite often there are set backs. It’s like that with meditation. Most of us begin with some sort of goal in mind -- calm the heck down; lower blood pressure; sleep better; gain more perspective – meditation helps with all that and more. But it’s not like that in the beginning. Not at all. Most of us quickly find out that there is nothing quiet about sitting down and watching the breath (the general, basic instruction). In fact, it may take us quite a long time to get to a place of peace and tranquility in our meditation practice.
They don’t call it a practice for nothing. Patience (unfortunately for the majority of us who like a quick result) is one of the foundations of mindfulness. We must learn to gently return again and again to the object of our meditation. Struggling against the experience that is unfolding only makes it more difficult to settle.
If you make a plan to sit every morning for 10-20-30 minutes and don’t see immediate benefits there’s nothing to do but sit some more. And some more. Even more. Eventually, when you are patient you will see results. Imagine sitting on a quiet riverbank with the water flowing gently by. You can hear birds calling alarms at your presence. Human! they warn to anyone who might want to know. Stay still, breathe, be by the river. Soon, the bird calls change. The sounds become more distinct. You can hear the whisper of the leaves, the run of the water. Be quieter still. Be patient. Perhaps a deer emerges.
It’s really like that. You rest in open quiet and eventually the mind stills. A-ha! There it is, you think. And just as you turn towards it (like that shy deer) it scatters and there you are, right back where you started. But that’s okay. You caught a glimpse, didn’t you?
The lags and frustrations will reemerge of course. There’s nothing more irritating than being quite sure that at least ten minutes have passed since you last peaked at the clock only to find that it has been a mere two minutes. Or that you just planned an entire presentation in your head for tomorrow’s meeting. But it is all part of the process. There’s no point in becoming impatient with yourself on top of it. In fact, turn towards your impatience and you will begin to notice its qualities. You may begin to see the experience change and dissolve. Working this way on the cushion will give you room to work with your own impatience in your daily life. You can feel the same bodily sensations arise as you contemplate the slowness of the coffeemaker or the recalcitrance of your cranky, overtired child and you can rest in that awareness, let it soften and change and move on. That is the promise of mindfulness and meditation; understanding your day to day experience with more clarity and giving room for healthier responses to emerge.
Just commit to the sit. And see what happens. Someday (who knows which day?) you will find yourself settled in silence, experiencing deep stillness that is more spacious than you ever imagined. Promise.