Longer isn’t always better — it’s about what you do with your time.
We often embark on our meditation practice with specific goals or expectations. Last week presented one of those days for me. Longing for answers and insights, I set my sights on a lofty two-hour meditation session.
I came up short. I couldn’t go any longer, concluding the practice at 58 minutes. The unusual thing was that this session felt more extended and intense than my previous attempts.
The path into meditation isn’t linear or predictable.
Aiming for a “big” session might lead us to believe we’re set for a deeper, more profound experience, but meditation doesn’t adhere to simple equations. Longer sessions don’t necessarily equate to deeper insights or transcending the mind’s habitual wandering.
It’s a common misconception that more time spent in silence means more progress made. In reality, each session, regardless of its length, unravels new layers of consciousness to explore and understand.
Forget about achieving a particular state.
The beauty and challenge of meditation lie in its process. It’s just like the slow unfolding of a lotus flower, petal by petal. This unfolding can sometimes reveal aspects of ourselves we’d rather not face, including deep-seated vices and attachments.
These moments of confrontation are integral to the practice. They offer us a chance to see beyond our usual distractions and desires, highlighting the things that genuinely tether us to cycles of dissatisfaction and craving.
Consistent meditation shines a light on our lives. This clarity is what the practice of vipassana, or insight meditation, aims to cultivate. Vipassana unfolds as we use mindfulness as a lens to view reality without filters or judgements. It strips away the layers of delusion and judgment that cloud our perception.
Meditation helps us see the material possessions and relationships we once thought essential to our happiness for what they truly are.
Let’s take a car, for example. Although it is often seen as a symbol of status, convenience, or personal freedom, it is ultimately a human construct, a concept given form by our collective agreement and attachment to its utility and value.
A car is simply a collection of materials — metal, rubber, and plastic — skillfully assembled into a functional object. Like all things in the physical world, these materials are impermanent and subject to change and decay.
Recognising this helps to loosen the grip of attachment and aversion, fostering a more profound sense of contentment and freedom from the endless cycle of attachment and aversion.
Real meditation transcends the mind.
Let’s remember that meditation isn’t always a serene journey towards enlightenment. There are sessions filled with struggle. The mind refuses to settle. Issues we thought were long buried resurface with a vengeance. The path to inner peace and understanding isn’t always smooth.
These challenges are not insurmountable, though. With persistence, our perception of these obstacles shifts. Once their tight grip on our psyche loosens, the passage towards freedom begins to reveal itself.
The process teaches us that actual progress isn’t measured by the clock or the tranquillity we achieve but by our willingness to confront ourselves, with all our imperfections, and to continue showing up for the practice.
Real meditation is about navigating the complexities of our minds and lives with grace and understanding.
With all its ups and downs, this journey is where the real transformation occurs — not in the elusive moments of peace, but in the day-to-day commitment to sit, observe, and accept whatever arises.