My Practical Reason for Meditating
“If we understood ourselves better we would damage ourselves less.”
Last week, I was at a meditation retreat offered to Harvard students by IBME, a non-profit that hosts meditation retreats. During the retreat, someone asked how meditation can help us actually take actions in the world, when the practice of meditating — just sitting in one place noticing your breath — feels so passive. It’s a question that took me years to answer, and I wanted to share my answer in case it resonates with anyone else.
When I reflect back on what my meditation practice has meant to me, I keep thinking about all of the things I quit. In high school, I quit playing the flute because I was intimidated by all the students who seemed much better than me. In sophomore year of college, I ended up taking my data structure and algorithms class pass-fail because I was too scared to take it for a grade and potentially fail. In practice, this meant I didn’t engage with the material and didn’t try very much.
Throughout college, I’ve been terrified of not living up to my potential (read: be perfect), so I avoided situations where I could potentially fail. I’ve taken many creative writing classes at Harvard but never sent my writing out to “actual” magazines because I couldn’t stomach the possibility of getting a single rejection. I also bailed on many technical recruiting processes throughout college because I was terrified that I was guaranteed to fail, and I didn’t want to reveal to myself that I might be a complete fraud.
In short, so many important turning points in my life have been shaped by fear and anxiety without my being aware of these emotions. Or sometimes I’d wonder if I was chickening out in the moment but feel too much shame and helplessness, and quickly avoid those questions instead.
What would I have been like if I wasn’t so scared back then? What if I had been less afraid of failing when I took computer science classes, or had steadily sent out all my stories to publications? These are questions that I cannot answer, but meditation has offered me a chance to answer this one: who can I be in the future if I’m a little braver now?
My meditation practice centers around greeting the current moment with kindness and curiosity. For me, this means deliberately noticing all my emotions (in addition to paying attention to my breath or my heartbeat or something else) and choosing to be present even when I feel really fucking bad.
What do I feel scared about today? Oh, I’m scared out of my fucking mind? Let me see how if it’s truly unbearable, or if that’s just a snap judgement. It’s been really scary and difficult, especially on days where I feel like shit, but across four years of meditating on and off, I’ve strengthened my ability to lean in when times feel tough or unbearable.
To put it more succinctly, Michael Ashcroft, who teaches the Alexander Technique, has said, “You can only respond to what you notice.” Meditation has allowed me to expand what I’m capable of noticing with kindness and curiosity, so I can respond better in the moment.
As a concrete example, I’m taking a really intense coding class right now, and somehow I’ve been able to turn in all the homeworks. Mind you, my code isn’t always great, but I used to agonize over being dumb and a bad student to the point where I’d be distraught and in tears and I’d have to quit coding. These days, I’ve been able to notice when I get really scared, take breaks, and then keep coding.
Over the past four years, meditation has given me a lot of courage. Courage to quit less, to ask for what I want, and to admit when I’ve been wrong. Courage to ask myself what actually makes me come alive, what my actual interests are, and to become a lot more okay with failing.
Who would I be if I had fewer self-imposed limits? How generous, successful, and impactful would I be? What will my life be like in five years? I don’t have answers to these questions, but one thing I’ve started to discover through all my meditating is this:
I really, deeply want to write. I want to stop giving up on writing over and over again. I’m tired of not sending things out for publication, for being too scared that no one will read my writing (thank you for reading this Substack post :P), for being too paralyzed by the fear of not “making it” to do anything.
James Baldwin has this quote that goes, “If we understood ourselves a lot better, we would damage ourselves less.” I think if we meditate more, we can understand ourselves better and ultimately damage ourselves less. I don’t understand much of myself, but I understand that I need to write. And to not beat myself up for all my previous mistakes and failures too, but that’s still ongoing.
So here I am, doing something a little scary by admitting that I want to write. I don’t know what I’m going to write in the future or if I’ll ever write a book. I don’t know if many people will read my writing one day or if I’ll ever be “actually” published, but I would much, much rather try and fail than quit too early.
By the way, if you do or don’t meditate, I’d love to hear why!
Yooo what meditation app/resource do you recommend or use? I meditate because it takes the edge off the day
This is beautiful and empowering! Loved how meditating helps turn the narrative from potentially dwelling on "what if" and fears, transforming into "who can I be in the future if I’m a little braver now?" I hadn't thought about how meditation gives courage much before - this is an useful frame I'll apply into my own practice!