This whole meditation thing

Two weeks til blastoff into the Grand Canyon. A little less than that left to chill here in paradise.

Who knew that’s how I’d view myself and my life here in Yose? And I know the two weeks will fly by just like all time does. My main objective is to live each moment (eating yummy bread, feeling exceedingly annoyed in tai ji, although nothing compared to how aggravated I used to feel in the mornings.

So here’s me, embarking on Alternative Medicine to help myself. Growing up in Eugene, I always waved off the hippies and their day-glo wandering eyes, the sighing breaths and the way they end every sentence with ‘man.’ As in, “it’s hot today, man.” Or, “I had this crazy dream last night man.” I’m not interested, man. Not interested in appearing to be as out of it as they are, as far off into the horizon, so far separated from reality that they can’t tie their shoes (“That’s why they invented Birkenstocks, man”).

I never ever wanted to be classed into hippie.

But here I am, being asked if I am one by the cute Russian wife who’s younger than me and has two kids already, being taken for a vegan by the tourists (this kid said, “see, dad, I told you she was!”) and living up to every stereotype I’ve been running away from since I noticed how closely I resembled them.

I figured the only way for me to shave my head and get away with it was to become aggro – a mini GI Jane. Get away with it meaning I didn’t want to be taken for a vegan or someone who believes in that ‘mind-body’ connection.

Why not?

I didn’t want to be associated with those darn hippies I know so well from the Eugene Saturday Market, the panhandlers in patchwork pants, the drummers with the dreads and nose rings and a picture of ganja tattooed on their calf. Not me! Not me! I’m not one of them! Don’t group me with them!

Now I realize that I was never one of them. It’s only a problem of perception. The way I see myself is the only way that matters. Thus, me being a vegan, learning tai ji and accepting the mind-body connection, and me looking like everyone else’ idea of - what? A healthy vegan hippie? - is just a coincidence. Perhaps this is what happy, healthy people look like.

What about Vegas, the land of two-dollar breakfasts (cardboard bacon and rubbery eggs, granted) and 24-hour gambling? What will I do then? How will I continue my routine – that sounds so mandatory – how will I continue to do the things that make me feel good when no one around me does them? Rising at five a.m. to meditate (I’ve already thought of driving out into the desert when it’s not truly that hot, then sleeping by the pool for the rest of the day), do qigong and practice the form? Will I really do this? Even getting two hours a day to meditate is going to be difficult, since no one else in my family does it.

*Unless I spread the love.*

(Arched eyebrow and mischievous twinkle).

Unless I convince my once-Buddhist parents to give it a go, to try what I’ve newly discovered. We could have a family meditation party, make it a part of our day, use it to enrich our experience together as a family and on the Grand Canyon.

I wonder why my parents don’t meditate anymore. When my dad asked my sister and I what the last thing we would do if the earth were going to disappear, we both said “learn to fly”. My dad said he would meditate.

One, what is so great about meditating that it’s what he would do at the end of the world?

And two, why isn’t he doing it now?

I realize that meditation is not just sitting on a Zafu and counting your breaths. It can be anywhere, doing anything. When I go to class from 5-8am, it is three hours of meditation. The first hour of sitting meditation gets me started and the last two of qigong and tai ji are simply movement meditations, where I focus inward on my dan tien, on its rotation and on spreading qi throughout my body. I can do this anywhere, make anything a meditation. The hard part is focusing. The hardest part is focusing. But maybe that’s what my dad does for himself, the way he makes it through his twelve-hour days at work. Sure, he loves his work, but it’s got to be exhausting, all that energy output. He’s got to get something back somewhere.

We all do, somewhere. We get some energy from food, some from sleep, some from doing activities that “feed” us. What feeds me, I’m still trying to figure out, to separate what nourishes me from what I think should.

Like climbing.

But I don’t climb anymore and I finally feel like I have energy to put into myself. I don’t want to climb right now. The cons outweigh the pros at this point. Squeezing my feet into nerve-cramping shoes? Torqueing and twisting my hands, shoulders, back, ankles and knees to get up a route? Risking a fall so I can claim a redpoint or onsight?

I admit, I’m not letting it go. I’m exploring this energy work, this inner development, this mind-body connection, this dan tien rotation as a way to improve my climbing. I move through the form and imagine myself floating up the rock face, propelled from within, focused inside with the movements expressing themselves outside. I think there’s a way to combine climbing with tai ji, and I believe that with enough work and attention to myself I will be able to make the connection. I will move from the inside out, and climb for the right reasons.

Until then, I don’t want to climb. Because if I’m doing it, it’s for the wrong reasons, all those ego-traps I get caught-up in so easily; the show-off in me, the fear of falling… all the things that make climbing not fun.

What I do for fun now is meditate, practice standing posture, and sometimes I practice the form. I take naps after lunch, I spend less time on the computer and reading books, more time taking care of myself, figuring out what it really is that I want and doing that.

If rising early and meditating is what I really want to do in Vegas and on the Canyon trip, then it shouldn’t be a problem, even if no one else is with me.

That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try it, though! (Mom, dad, Bree, Tris...and anyone else out there)