Enjoying All The Noise And Every Little Step

Shhhh…. just listen.

This morning was a good morning. I woke up early, the sun was shining. Birds were filling the sky with music. My dog was resting in his bed, ready for me to take him on a bladder-emptying walk.

Unfortunately, the thing that made it a good morning was that it wasn’t filled with anxiety. Ooohhh, I am prone to anxiety attacks, as I’ve found through the years. It is hard for me to convey the seriousness of my attacks and how bad things were for me mentally.

After showering and the mandatory dressing for work (hey, we can’t all work in ancient Greek gymnasiums), I called to my dog, and he trotted to the door. I started our route with my normal routine of checking my phone, playing a bit of Pokemon Go, checking my bank account, and…overthinking.

How am I going to pay for this? Will I have to wait until next paycheck? What if I don’t get another class at the college I work for? What if, what if, what if???

And then I realized: I wasn’t enjoying every step of our walk. I wasn’t present. I wasn’t listening to the world around me.

In my Tae Kwon Do classes, we (used to) practice meditation (before COVID happened). The instructor tells (told) us that it helps (helped) to clear our minds so that we can focus on our craft.

In other words, if I were attacked just then on my walk, I would have gotten my butt kicked. (My dog, faithful as he is, would probably lick the attacker and ask for belly rubs.)

So I stopped. Not my walking- I stopped thinking. I know that sounds crazy, but I told my brain to stop chattering, and focused on the sounds of the birds. I just simply listened.

Quiet That Inner Voice

The mid- 1990s were a simpler time for me. I was studying in college full time, and racking up a lot of debt, but college students usually don’t have a lot to worry about. Well, that’s all relative, but I had a very supportive family, I worked part-time, and I didn’t have many of my own bills to pay. Yes, I was privileged.

But I guess we tend to create our own problems. At the time, I didn’t realize it, but I had the beginnings of anxiety. I would make plans with friends, and then excuse myself at the last moment. I’d feel uneasy when I did go out, and relieved upon returning. I nearly drafted my will (what would I leave, my credit card debt?) because I was afraid of the flight I had to take to another country as part of my program of studies.

It was also this time I started meditating. This was mostly due to my changing religious beliefs, but I read quite a bit about how to meditate, and with a little practice, I could see (feel) results!

The effects of meditation have been recorded and discussed for years. According to Alice Walton (2016), meditation can calm down the brain, improve focus, and relieve depression and anxiety. I would notice that, if I would meditate daily for a few days, my general mood would improve, and I wouldn’t have that shaky uneasiness that signals anxiety. Conversely, I noticed that if I did not meditate for a few days, I found it a little harder to go out in public or with friends without shaking the feeling that I just wasn’t good enough.

In a way, meditation is like exercise, despite being nearly the opposite of exercise.

Running As Meditation?

Before COVID- well, I can’t even use that excuse- before my divorce and my discovery of beer, I was a devout runner. I found that if I ran for a few consecutive days, I would feel good about myself. If I didn’t, I would feel insecure or even angry. (Arguably, that could be an addiction, but that’s another topic.) If I was injured, I wouldn’t want to be around me.

Running was a form of meditation for me. Indeed, exercise can be seen as such. My therapist recommended I start again when I had my most serious battles with anxiety. Ben Michaelis (2016), writes that running, like meditation can help you relax and get in touch with your inner voice.

In the mid 2000’s my then-wife and I decided to improve our running by entering half-marathons. Those half-marathons became marathons. Up until this point, my running meditation was satisfied with listening to music and covering long distances without any worry of how speedy I was. That was about to change.

We set goals and tried to beat our marathon times every race. My fitness was spectacular, to be sure, and I had a focus which helped my anxiety a bit. Our favorite race was the Chicago Marathon- close to home, and the whole city comes out to cheer you on. It’s an amazing, carnival-like atmosphere that other marathons don’t have.

Our goal was to run a marathon under four hours. We came so close one year in Chicago, and ended up with a time around four hours and five minutes. Like serious runners do, we kept a close eye on our pace, and at given intervals, would decide if we needed to adjust.

We did not meet our goal, but we did sett our own personal best times. That being said, I felt as if I missed something else during this run. Settling down with a “beer” (ok, I admit I’m a beer snob, but I can’t drink what they give you to recover after the race- even after 26.2 miles), I mentioned that I felt rushed (well, duh- it’s a race) and didn’t get to enjoy the scenery.

I was too busy worrying about my pace to enjoy the crowds cheering me on.

My meditation had become corrupted.

I never made it to the “under four hour” club, and I may never be there. Knee pain, ankle surgery, divorce, anxiety, and alcoholic beverages put my running on hold for a few years. I don’t want to hang up my running shoes just yet, because I still do enjoy the meditation of running when I can. But when I do start again, I will be sure to not give so much emphasis on speed.

How to Practice Meditation: Some Tips for Busy People

A common question for beginning meditators is: how do I do it? How do I tune out the voices in my head and just focus on meditating? A good starting point would be to focus on your breath. Hush the cranial monologue (and don’t worry, because everyone has that), and listen to your own breathing. Listen as you adjust your breath slower so you can make your meditation a better experience. It will improve with practice.

If this isn’t entirely possible, another idea would be to just listen to the sounds around you. We can’t always control the noisy environments we live in, but if you’re savvy enough, you can learn to let it not bother you or stress you out. Turn those mechanical sounds into music, if you must. Just shut off the brain’s worrying voices, and listen.

MRI machines can be anxiety factories. In the waning days of my marathon running, my doctor ordered an MRI for my knee. You’d think that I would only have to be put in that whirling, screaming machine up to my knee or maybe my hips, but noooooo! My whole body had to enveloped by that cacophony.

I could have easily had a panic and claustrophobic attack there. Instead, I decided to make a game out of the insanity. Through the earplugs (oh, you need those), I closed my eyes and wrote songs out of the mechanical mayhem. The technician later told me fell asleep. You have to be either very tired or very relaxed to fall asleep in an MRI machine.

As for my walk with my dog this morning, I told my brain to be quiet (mentally, not out loud, but if you want to attract attention, do that), and focused on the birds. Those noisy, jittery creatures can give us so much peace if we allow it. Then I could hear the traffic. Those drivers might not be happy, but the sounds- I just simply focused on the sounds, and made music of them. I focused on the panting of my dog and how I enjoy being with him. That’s how I started my little meditation, and I felt more present- more alive.

This little practice made me feel a bit better about my hectic life, and with practice, you too can learn to enjoy all the noise and every little step.