In January of last year, I wrote about my then-new habit of LovingKIndness meditation. Throughout the tumult that was 2021, I resolved to be gentle to myself through this practice, and I committed to a year of once-daily meditation.

And I did.

I am proud to say that I recently completed a full 365-day stretch of daily practice. 52 weeks straight. Sometimes I only managed to fit it 5 minutes just before bed while brushing my teeth; other times, I found 15 to 30-minute gaps in the day where I could focus. But the practice of the practice is something I’ve grown to treasure.

I’m not religious, but solitude and silence feel spiritual. One particular meditation I frequently do encourages you to sit with your feelings and just… feel whatever you are feeling. In the past, issues would stick in my head and distract me for days (and nights). Now I run it past a framework of mindfulness - literally sit with myself and feel what I feel, as deeply as I need to - until I let it pass.

Recently I’ve been dealing with a challenging personality in my professional life. I find this person’s communication style off-putting, and I was angry and upset during and after our interactions. I took this issue to my meditation practice to figure it out. I stepped away from the personality issue (and blaming him) and investigated how it made me feel. I figured out that his style was triggering all sorts of insecurities in me, primarily that old friend imposter syndrome with a healthy dose of general self-doubt.

I reminded myself (thanks to loving-kindness practice and the support and encouragement of a fantastic team of colleagues) that I am good at my job and bring years of experience to the table. All I’m responsible for is doing my best work. If this person goes another direction, that’s his journey, not mine.

Things got better after that. He didn’t change a bit, but I did.

Meditation guru Joseph Goldstein regularly starts his guided sessions with the phrase, “Sit and know you’re sitting.” This sounds so simple until you are sitting there and the thoughts come marching in.

Another revelation this year was understanding that the act of being interrupted by thoughts is the crux of mindfulness itself. The act of leaving the mind and returning to the mind is the whole point. No matter how many years you meditate (and why it’s called a practice), this cycle is what happens. It’s fascinating and humbling to think how people have practiced for centuries – are practicing right now as I write these words and right now as you read them.

Sitting and knowing we are sitting.

Having the excuse of working to keep up my streak kept me focused and forced me to pause daily when I otherwise might have tried to get Just One More Thing Done in the afternoon. I hit pause on work, drink a glass of water, silence my phone, and hide out in the dark of my bedroom for a few minutes of calm, quiet reflection.

I started my meditation journey hoping that mindfulness training would help me with my temper and improve my patience, and I think it has. I still have moments of sub-zen behavior, and the occasional swear word. OK, I still love to swear, and no amount of meditation will break me of that habit. But I can better recognize when things are coming apart for me and choose my words carefully, if still profanely, at times.

The last few weeks of 2021 were a time of overwhelming emotions: Gratitude. Fear. Joy. Love. Dread. Hope. Frustration. I feel blessed to have a meditation practice to sustain me as I keep up my daily habit: I know I am strong, and I can do hard things, as I have before.

I pause. I take a breath. Then another. I remind myself that at the moment, I am OK, and that moment has passed, and I’m still OK. And even still, time moves forward, and even still, I will be OK, and we will all be OK.

Live, and know you’re living.

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This essay also appeared in the January 2022 issue of FLM - Fete Lifestyle Magazine.