Meditation is a Bunch of Bullshit


These days I let my mind and emotions run wild and free, but I remember a time in my life when I used to meditate constantly. I would sit on some sort of rug, and go deep. I would use ancient techniques and control my mind and body. I read books about meditation and spirituality, and they inspired me to meditate more, and be more spiritual. Not a lot of things bothered me, and I was high and mighty upon my throne of being a spiritual person.

It was pretty amazing though, because every once in a while, I would break through to those illuminated states sought after by many, yet rarely achieved. This happened to me in two short moments after much practice of meditation. The first time, I was so relaxed that I expanded outside of my body, and I felt like everything, literally every single thing was okay. It was as if I was far larger than my problems, and every single problem I ever had didn’t feel like a problem! It was one of the most peaceful feelings that I have ever felt to the point of tears running down my face. The second time I was meditating in a room of monks, and I happened to find a point of focus in my mind so finite that when I focused on it with such concentration, I broke through to another side. On the other side it felt like there were thousands of senses sensing thousands of things all at once. It felt like angels singing heavenly music and beaming golden light right at me. It was too intense, I couldn’t handle it, I quickly came right back to my body as my heart was beating like wild. I thought, “woah! I finally reached enlightenment!”,  and after that experience I was faced with a terrible dilemma. I wanted to be there, and I didn’t want to be here. Besides having an interest in the expansiveness of consciousness and how cool it is, the real reason I wanted to reach enlightenment was because I wasn’t happy with where I was.

No matter how hard I meditated after that experience I couldn’t get back there. Life felt empty and pointless compared to that heavenly place. After about six years of meditation, it was no longer enjoyable, it became a chore. for some time, what I saw as life became torture. I had to find meaning, in my meaningless existence. I had to face the pain of emptiness, and however else I felt about my life. I even found that becoming a person who kept busy, and became fulfilled with passions and sports contributed to a happy life, yet were not an ultimate answer. Without those things, I was still empty, just like fleeting love.

I found though, that when I allowed my mind and emotions to run wild, I have never felt so full. I don’t feel empty anymore. To get angry, sad, depressed, anxious, feel fearful, without trying to get rid of it, and to feel love, excitement, creativity, and peace naturally without forcing them or pretending to create them with the bullshit façade of positive thinking, that is when I started to feel full. That is when I felt meaning that doesn’t fade, and a more honest and integrated type of enlightenment that has no end.



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