Letting go of meditation

I was concerned. I was going to quit meditation. After having spent nearly two years learning how to do it, abandoning it felt like I was letting myself down, throwing it all away and risking my well-being. But, though it may be the method of the moment, it was time to move on.

There was a time when it was useful. A toxic and corrupt social environment spilled over into every facet of my life, a crushing paternity test went wrong after I’d bonded with the baby, a damaging relationship split obsessed me for longer than I care to mention, a midlife crisis that seemed to have no end and, to top it all off, bad psychiatry — years of compounding stress crying out for something more than mere insight. Meditation was the key to calming things down, finding solutions and regaining perspective.

I learned a lot from my time on the cushion, along with the guidance of the sages. I learned how to cut myself a break, how to live well, and the importance of a spiritual dimension in life. But there were reasons to quit. I need the time. I need to do more than strive to be mindful. I need the hard edges of conventional everyday life. Although meditation served a purpose, once that purpose was fulfilled, I had to let it go.

Meditation’s always there, though, if I need it. Looking ahead, there’ll surely be times when I do and, because of how well it’s served me, that’s reassuring to know.

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