(This post is the second of two about meditation.  Want to know why I meditate?  And what it’s got to do with a waterfall? Start here.)

So you want to learn to meditate?  Awesome!  While a quick Google would yield you pages and pages of results instructing you how to get started, I tend to find much of what’s out there to either be too simplistic, too frilly… or just lacking the personal details that make it all come together.  So I decided to write my own little list.  Meditation 101, if you will, for the newest of beginners.

It’s not hard.  

It’s actually really simple, and just takes dedication and practice.  Pick a time (right after you read this post is a great time!) and give yourself five minutes… or even two if you don’t want to start with five.  I like to meditate first thing in the morning, because I feel like it sets me up in a good frame of mind to start the day, but really any time of day is fine.   Give yourself a few minutes, get a nice timer so you don’t have to watch the clock (I like an app called Insight Timer) and follow the steps below.

1.  Get comfortable.  You want to be able to sit up with your back relatively straight (that helps with breathing). Your legs can be crossed, out in front of you, whatever you’d like.  I’ve taken up sitting on the floor, with my back resting against the couch.  I’m not sure why exactly, except that I feel like I’m able to sit straighter on the floor, whereas if I’m actually on the couch, I tend to get all slouchy and snuggled in.  So I sit on the floor.  Wherever you decide to sit:  get comfortable, check your posture, and make sure you’ve gone to the bathroom.   Turn off the ringer on your phone.  Set your timer.

2.  Breathe.  You don’t need to breathe in any special fashion;  you just need to breathe, and draw your attention to your breath.  Being a yogini, I’m partial to something called ujjayi pranayama which is basically deep, slow, inhalations through the nose, down the back of the throat… and slow, audible exhalations out through the mouth. This breathing technique alone slows everything down, and hugely relaxes your body and your mind.   That is always my first preference, but it’s not mandatory!  Some people who are new to deep breathing breathe too deeply, and end up making themselves feel light-headed.  If that’s you, no problem… just breathe regularly until you get more accustomed to it.  No matter how you breathe, just pay attention to it.  Notice as your breath comes in, fills your diaphragm, and moves out again.  You might find it helpful for your focus to count each breath as you exhale.  When you get to 10, start over again.  Just keep focusing your attention on your breath and noting how it feels, and how it calms your body.

3.  Set an intention.     One thing that I ask my yoga students to do sometimes is to simply think of one word that they want to focus on.  Your word might be peace or calm or joy or forgiveness.   Having a word in mind can be helpful because it can give you something specific to return to when your mind starts to wander (and it will start to wander).  If not a word, you can focus on a mantra, or on a higher power if you believe in one. The idea is to decide what it is you want to get out of your meditation session, and it can be something different from day to day Keeping things simple and deciding that you’re going to just keep focusing on your breath is perfectly okay too.

4.  Be gentle with yourself when your mind wanders.  YOUR MIND WILL WANDER.  It will.  It’s okay!  And when you find yourself thinking about your to-do list, or the bills you need to pay, or any of the other 10,000 things that clutter up your brain all day, it does not mean you failed at meditating.  It just means you have another opportunity to practice bringing your attention back to your breath, or your word, or your mantra.  Meditation isn’t so much about an empty mind as it is about one that’s learned, through practice, to focus where you want it to focus…. rather than being distracted and overtaken by rattling, runaway thoughts and worries.   Remember that you’re not trying to stop the waterfall.  You’re trying to find peace in the stillness behind the waterfall.  So when you realize that you’re thinking about scheduling little Suzy’s dental cleaning, or wondering how you’re going to deal with that difficult situation with your co-worker, or mentally lambasting the mailman for always delivering your packages to the neighbor, acknowledge it, gently let it go, and return your focus to your breathing.  Is your foot cramping up, is there a car alarm going off outside, did a dog start licking your face?  Acknowledge.  Let go. Breathe.

5.   Repeat.  Keep returning your focus and attention back to your breath or your word of intention every time your mind wanders.  When your timer goes off, you’re done!  Do it again tomorrow.

And that’s it!  Meditation for beginners.

Questions, comments, testimonies?  I’d love to hear from you!

 

I sound my barbaric yawp  over the rooftops of the world

It is dark and heavily raining as I write this, a sound that is at once mournful and comforting.  A poignantly fitting backdrop for a day when we’re all still trying to make sense of the death of the man who brought great laughter and emotion to so many.

Like most people my age, I grew up watching Robin Williams.  My family’s TV was tuned to Mork and Mindy every week.  I remember his earlier movies, like Good Morning Vietnam.  I laughed at Mrs Doubtfire.  Adored him in Patch Adams.  Was deeply affected by What Dreams May Come.  Thought he was brilliant as Sean Maguire in Good Will Hunting.

The one that stays with me the most though, for a variety of reasons, is Dead Poets Society.  It was released when I was teenager.  My family and I were on a camping trip that weekend, the four of us happily crowded together in a little pop-up.  We woke up to a day of heavy rain, much like this one, and we decided to wait it out in a nearby movie theater.  Dead Poets is arguably just a really fantastic movie.  I left the theater that day feeling touched and inspired and newly excited about life.  What I didn’t realize at the time of course, was that I would go on to base my entire life’s philosophy – as a person, a parent, and an unschooler – largely on that movie.  Carpe Diem, boys.  Seize the day. 

And now, 25 years later, Robin Williams has died.  All sources are saying that Williams – like so many of us – was a victim of depression, and that he sadly took his own life.

As is usually the case when a beloved celebrity dies, social media has lit up, awash with expressions of shock, condolences, heartfelt words…. and a whole lot of insensitively and ignorance.

Cowardly.  Selfish.  These are the two words I’m seeing over and over in reference to the nature of Williams’ death.  There are some very good reasons why we should never use these words to describe suicide, which I’ll get to in a minute, but first I want to address something else that I read yesterday, something that angered me on a level that I can’t even describe.

A popular blogger called his suicide a “bad choice.”  A choice that he wouldn’t have made if he’d only had more faith.  If he’d only chosen joy instead.

If preventing suicide was as easy as advising people to just not choose it, it would cease to exist.

But it doesn’t work that way.  Depression is an illness.  An illness that lies to you.  An illness that is so deep and so pernicious and so consuming, that by the time it’s taken you to the depths of actually believing that suicide is the only answer, you know longer even feel like you have a choice.

I can sit here with a clear head and list all the many, many reasons I have for staying here on this earth …. God, my beautiful family, my writing, my yoga, my ability to reach others, coffee and cupcakes and sunsets and the smell of the desert after it rains…  My list would go on and on.  But a person on the brink of suicide is NOT clear-headed.  Depression has stolen their ability to think rationally.  DEPRESSION LIES.

So writing it off as something that’s simply a bad choice is insulting and insensitive.   There are lots of bad choices out there:  Talking when you should have remained silent, texting while you’re driving, eating that double bean burrito right before you go to sleep.

But succumbing to the soul-crushing despair, loneliness, and hopelessness that precedes suicide? That is a heartbreaking tragedy, not a “bad choice”.

The fact is, unless you’re IN THE SHOES of the person in the throes of depression, you simply cannot know what they are thinking, what they are feeling, and what they are and are not capable of rationally deciding.  I have dealt with depression for most of my adult life.  I have been medicated, I have tried natural therapies, I have Googled at 2:00 AM in the deepest pits of desperation, just hoping someone, somewhere, could help me.  I didn’t talk about it for the longest time, mainly because talking about it generally garnered me little more than “cheer up!” comments, and other well-meaning but misguided admonishments.   But I have been there.  I have been in that place.  I have been that broken.  Feeling like I am suffocating..  Drowning. Immobilized.  With my heart ripped open and the belief that the only thing I had left to live for was my faith.  I have been there.  And I still can’t pretend to know what Robin Williams, or any other suicide victim, was thinking or feeling before he died.

I know this, though:  Depression does not discriminate.  It crosses all racial and religious and socioeconomic backgrounds.  It can strike anyone.  It is a painful and crushing and complicated illness, one with as many different many paths to healing and wellness as there are people in the world.

By all accounts, Robin Williams was seeking treatment for his depression before he died.  He was trying.  He was reaching out.  He was doing what he was supposed to be doing, and the depression just won.  That is sad, and it is tragic.  Suicide is always sad and tragic,  which is why that same blogger’s worry that twitter comments saying things like, “You’re at peace now” would glorify suicide is so misguided.

Being glad that someone is no longer suffering and in pain is not glorifying suicide.

Showing empathy and compassion is not glorifying suicide.

Suicide sucks.  Depression sucks.  Those truths aren’t debatable.

But this was a person.  A person carrying so great a weight, so great an amount of pain that he took his own life. Would it have been better – better for him, better for his family and loved ones – if he hadn’t done it?  If he’d found a path to peace on this earth?  OF COURSE!   No one should commit suicide.  No one should live, or die, in that darkness.  But the fact remains that he did commit suicide, and the resulting worldwide discussion about it should be about bringing about awareness.  It should be about learning about tools to help others.  It should be about empathy and compassion and understanding.   It should be about reaching out to each other… frankly, honestly, unabashedly sharing our stories.  It should be about letting others know that there is help, that there is someone to talk to, that there IS a path to peace on this earth.

It should not be about shaming anyone, ever.

And finally, as to the “selfish” and “cowardly” and “they just didn’t have enough faith” comments:

You know what those kind of comments do?  They tell the poor souls out there who are currently contemplating suicide that the lies of their depression are true.   That they’re selfish. That they’re cowardly.  That they’re not good enough.  Not strong enough.  I ask you, from the bottom of my heart, is that really the message we want to send?  Is that really a message that is somehow going to help?

Because from where I’m sitting, the message we need to be sending people in the grips of depression is very much the opposite.

You ARE strong.

You ARE loved.

You ARE good enough.

You ARE worth it.

Let’s practice love.  Let’s practice grace.  Let’s practice kindness.  Let’s practice compassion. Let’s create an environment where people who are depressed can come forward for help without feeling like they’re being judged and condemned.  Let’s create an environment where people who are depressed can be supported, and encouraged, and lifted up, instead of feeling that they have to hide.  Let’s create an environment where people know they are loved.

If you are struggling with depression, talk to someone.  Talk to a friend, a therapist, your parents, a pastor, ME. Talk to someone.

Because no matter what depression tells you, no matter what twitter or Facebook or insensitive bloggers may tell you….. You are worth it.

I’m not one to brag, but I’ve gotten really really good at something. Like, so good that this week alone I had two separate friends, in two separate instances, tell me what a bang-up job I’ve been doing.  These were not happy conversations either, but uncomfortable ones. Conversations that left me tired and sad.  Yes, I’ve gotten very good at it, and I’m not proud of it.

In the interest of not keeping you in suspense:

I push people away.  I withdraw into a hole, I vanish from groups, I decline invitations, I give vague responses, I ignore my phone, I stop answering texts.  My life revolves around spending time with the worst best friend that I never remembered inviting to the party, but who all too often steadfastly refuses to leave.

It is a sneaky beast, depression.  It is both a liar and a thief, and along with its frequent cohort anxiety, it wraps around you so tightly that you start to lose track of where it ends and you begin.  It suffocates you, it holds you down, all the while making you feel like somehow you chose it.  Which makes you feel even worse.  How broken do you have to be inside to choose that?

Because the thing is, you did not choose it.  It chose you. For a myriad of possible reasons, you’re one of the unlucky ones.   I think it’s that fear though, that belief that people are going to look at you and think you’re causing it, think that if you just chose to you could “snap out of it” at a moment’s notice, that makes it so hard to talk about. That makes it the one thing you NEVER talk about, the thing that you hold so close it’s as if it were a near and dear secret. That makes it the reason – if you’re like me – that you push away even your closest friends, because even if you end up totally alone, there’s something somehow… safer… about being alone.   Because depression lies, and depression makes you believe the lies.

You don’t have to hide it.  You don’t have to be alone.

Last night, when I shared on Facebook that I was going to be writing about depression, within minutes I had over 100 “likes”, and dozens of people virtually raised their hands to say that they too, had suffered.  People get it. And the ones who don’t?  The ones who may not have experience of their own?  They want to help, too. Desperately. My friends, on those occasions when I’ve let them in, have been literal lifelines to me when I needed them.   Reach out to someone.  Reach out to that person who you know in your heart of hearts will just be there.

If you’re the friend, there are lots of things you can do to provide support…. and lots of (well-meaning!) things that, well… really don’t help.  The list that follows is born of a desire to help people understand, and it is far from exhaustive.  It’s merely a place to start, from my own personal experience.  My top six least and most helpful responses from my friends.  If for no other reason, because it’s beyond time to start talking about this.

If you have a friend who’s suffering from anxiety and/or depression:

DON’T tell them to “cheer up”

Or to “look on the bright side,”  or to just “focus on the positive.”  Having a positive attitude is all well and good of course, but if it were that simple, no one would be depressed.  It’s not something that one can just “snap out of”, so it’s a little insulting when it’s treated as such. Depression is a very, very different thing than being bummed because your favorite team lost the Super Bowl.

DON’T play doctor

This is perhaps the most frustrating to me.  Particularly in this day and age of such readily available information on alternative remedies such as essential oils, herbs, and homeopathics, everyone is anxious to diagnose and treat everyone else.  Please, please resist this urge.  It’s awesome if your best friend’s sister’s boyfriend had great luck with shock therapy, but that doesn’t mean it’s the answer for everyone.  Chances are good that your friend has already heard of all her options (and likely, has tried many or all of them), and if she hasn’t, it’s all readily available on Google.  What works for one person at one point in their journey may not work for another, or even for the same person at a different time.  So your suggestions are, at best, lucky guesses that were either tried already and rejected, already in use, or on a list of things to look at someday when the time is right.  Either way, what your friend needs you to be is just that:  a friend.  Not a doctor.

DON’T play therapist, either

Therapy is such a personal thing.  Some people love it and swear by it, some people hate it and avoid it at all costs.  (I’m the latter)  We all know it’s an option though, one we can utilize when/if it feels like the right decision. When we do make the often difficult choice to open up to you as a friend though, what we’re looking for is someone to listen, not to try to fix it.  You can’t fix it.  I had someone say to me once, “I’m sure if we can just sit down and talk about it, we can get this all sorted out in about an hour.”  I declined the invitation.  It just doesn’t work that way.  And even if it did, it would be something your friend would initiate on her own, with a professional.

DON’T tell them they just need more faith in God

Or that they need to pray harder.  Or that they need to spend more time studying their Bible. Or that if they just trust that God will take it from them, then He will.  It doesn’t work that way either.  God is not a gumball machine, where you just put in a quarter, and out pops your request.   Even worse, if your friend’s depression remains, she could be left thinking that there is something wrong with either her God or her faith, neither of which is the case.  Some of the most devout, faithful, loving people I know have suffered from depression.  Reaching out to God is great (and very helpful!) if that’s your inclination, but it’s not a magic pill.  To imply otherwise is to tell your friend exactly what I spoke about up above… that her depression is in some way her fault, and that if she just TRIED HARDER, and DID BETTER and prayed the RIGHT way, she could choose to be rid of it.

DON’T give up on them

Sometimes when I’ve gone through a particularly bad or long stretch, I genuinely worry that I’m not going to have any friends left when it’s all over.  It’s not a conscious choice to push everyone away, but just an unfortunate side-effect.  The great irony of course is that those times when everything about me is screaming, “Stay away from me.  Don’t talk to me.  NO, I don’t want to go out.  NO, I don’t want to chat.  NO, there’s nothing you can do to help…..” those are the times when I need a friend the most.   Don’t give up.

DON’T tell them you understand

Unless you really do.  Things like depression are very, very individual, and can manifest themselves in a myriad of ways.  I have dealt with chronic depression and anxiety off and on for my entire adult life, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I understand the situational depression brought on by, say, a divorce.  And that divorced person doesn’t necessarily understand the struggles of ongoing depression due to financial hardships.  Or the anxiety and stress that occurs after a traumatic event.  The fact is, we can’t always understand.  But we can be a friend.  We can support.  We can LISTEN.  We can always listen.

DO ask how you can help

Now, keep in mind that a lot of the time the answer is going to be, “I don’t know” or, “You can’t,” but simply asking if you can help goes a long way towards letting someone know that you care about them.  Offering to help is a thoughtful, non-threatening way to say, “Hey, I’m here if you need me.”  A friend asked me how she could help just this week, and though I didn’t have an answer for her (sometimes, there just really isn’t anything you can do other than be there), the sincerity of the question itself helped immensely.

DO be honest with your feelings

One of the coolest things anyone ever said to me when I was in a really bad place was, “I don’t know what to say.  I never know what to do in these situations.  But let’s have coffee sometime.”  It was perfect because 1)  it was honest, and 2) she wasn’t trying to “fix” anything, and was even admitting that she didn’t know how even if she wanted to and 3) she was letting me know she was available when/if I needed her.  All of that from a simple, “I don’t know what to say.”  If you don’t know what to say, or don’t know what to do, that admittance is hugely appreciated (and greatly preferred over insincere platitudes)

DO keep reaching out

The partner of, “Don’t give up on them,” reaching out to your friend lets her know that you’re still there, and that you’re thinking of her.   Keep inviting her to things (but don’t take it personally if she says no!), text her now and then to say hello, send her her favorite chocolate.  I got a few well-timed “thinking of you” cards in the mail last month – the post-office mail, not email – and the fact that someone took the time to get the card, write a few kind words of encouragement, and mail it made such a difference.

DO offer an ear, and/or a shoulder

“I’m here if you want to talk.”  Seven of the most powerful words you can utter when you don’t know what else to do.  I’ll be honest:  A lot of the time I just don’t want to talk about it at all (see the next item on the list), but when I do, it’s an invaluable thing to know that I have people I can go to, day or night, and that they’ll listen.  No judgement, no advice-giving, no preaching…. just listening.  I cannot emphasize the importance of listening enough.  I think we’ve become a largely self-absorbed society of people, always talk talk talking, and not enough listening.

DO be sensitive to when they do not want to talk

I had a friend several years ago who had a very hard time letting things lie when she knew something was up. “Spill it,” is what she’d say to me over and over, wanting me, harping on me really, to talk about it.  “What’s going on with you?  Why are you in such a bad mood all the time?”  (As an aside, if you really want someone with depression to open up to you, it’s not a super idea to refer to said depression as “a bad mood.”)  Yes, talking can be a very healing thing.  Yes, it’s important to let them know you’re there for them.   But sometimes – a LOT of the time – what that person needs is not to talk but just to be.  To be with someone safe and familiar, someone who’s going to give them support, yes, but also give them space. When they want to talk, they’ll tell you.

DO continue to act “normal”

While it’s true that there is nothing you can do to help your friend “snap out” of a depression, sometimes it’s good – and welcome – to have a distraction.  Talk about your favorite TV shows, tell funny stories, share your favorite YouTube clips, share your life.

As much as you would like to, you can’t make it go away.  You just can’t.  What you can do though, is soften the edges, provide a safe to fall, and be the one that when the time comes (and the time will come) will be there to listen.