If posture can take us into breathing, breathing can take us into meditation, which, says, Amy, "can create a calm, healing state in body and mind." Pain doesn’t go away with meditation, she advises, but through the practice of mindfulness we learn not to identify with the pain.
For people with major depression, Amy cautions, meditation may be counter-productive at first, as depressed people tend to be stuck in their negative thoughts. Since meditation may also bring up flashbacks and bad memories, learning under a skilled instructor is strongly encouraged.
Amy’s breakthrough came in a yoga class while holding the bridge pose, supine with pelvis and chest thrust upwards She released the posture ten minutes later to a flood of sensations and a "time-out for the rational mind, a few moments of deep rest, a glimpse of samadhi [cosmic consciousness]."
What if, she asks, that intelligent awareness of bliss is not an altered state but your natural state?
Even if you have no intention of practicing yoga or meditation, chances are you employ some kind of derivative practice such as conscious breathing or visualization. This may be as simple as sitting at your work station, tuning out the hub-bub around you, taking a few breaths, and imagining yourself in a relaxing setting. Maybe you deliberately count to ten before you decide to punch a bothersome colleague in the nose.
I confess to being notoriously delinquent about getting back into a yoga-meditation routine. But the insights I acquired from years back continue to carry over into my never-ending struggle for dominion over my brain. Too many times, admittedly, my emotions win. Maybe, in certain situations, an anti-anxiety med would have worked better for me.
But the relative peace of mind I am currently experiencing in my life does not come from meds. The realization that life did not have to involve my brain constantly at war with itself came from from a set of practices as old as the hills. Occasionally, I have a glimpse - an insight - into the stillness, when my brain - the entire universe - seems to stop.
Is this my true state? My equivalent to Amy’s “time-out for the rational mind?”
The answer will probably always elude me, but the quest brings its own unexpected benefits. For me, that quest begins with the seat of my pants meeting the seat of a cushion. Stretching, breathing, then sitting. The simplest task in the world, yet also the most difficult, yet also - for many - the most rewarding.
The cushion beckons. Is the seat of my pants up to the challenge?
