Transformative Meditation: The Technique That Revolutionized My Existence

“Stay in the moment. Embracing the present will bring healing. Worrying about the future can lead to anxiety, and dwelling on past events can stir up anger and sadness. Focus on the here and now.” ~Sylvester McNutt

For two years, I delved into the world of meditation. I listened to podcasts, recited mantras each morning, sat in quiet contemplation, and explored the depths of Eastern spirituality under the mentorship of a licensed clinical psychologist. He taught me how to harness deep diaphragmatic breathing to stimulate my vagus nerve and lower my resting heart rate, which significantly aided my recovery from panic attacks triggered by existential fears.

After enduring several nights filled with distressing thoughts about mortality and troubling childhood memories, I decided to explore meditation as a means to ease my mind.

Understanding our emotions is crucial to deciding how to handle them. During meditation, the goal is to observe thoughts without judgment, allowing them to pass while returning to the present moment through a mantra. However, post-meditation, it’s beneficial to note if certain thoughts or memories continue to recur and to reflect on the emotions associated with those experiences. This self-awareness helps in personal growth.

For me, many resurfacing childhood memories during meditation were tied to my mother. It was evident that my early poetry often involved themes related to her and family dynamics. Only when I began confronting these memories did I realize they were linked to deeply rooted emotions from my childhood.

By allowing myself to view my memories as artifacts of my life—ones to accept rather than empower—I managed to navigate through them and emerge healthier.

To facilitate this, I started journaling, discussing my experiences with trusted friends, expressing myself creatively, and maintaining a disciplined meditation practice, dedicating three to four hours each morning to it.

A specific childhood memory that troubled me often involved an incident when I was about seven or eight years old, which stuck with me vividly.

On that day, a friend and I were sitting on my bedroom floor chatting when my mother entered the room. She sternly pointed out that my clothes were not put away, as she had insisted it was a condition for having my friend over that day.

Without further ado, she threw each item of clothing at me as I sat there, leaving my friend and me in shock. After she left, my friend helped me gather my clothes.

Realizing this memory nonjudgmentally brought to light that it had become a point of trauma for me, something I carried into adulthood until I confronted the emotions intertwined with that event.

It wasn’t until I began meditating consistently and repeatedly encountered this memory that I recognized the associated feelings: unfairness, humiliation, shame. I found myself questioning how she could act in such a way.

However, once I began to name my feelings individually, I noticed the physical sensations and emotional turmoil connected to that memory began to lessen. I even mustered the courage to discuss my childhood with my mother using nonviolent communication techniques outlined in the book Nonviolent Communication by Marshall B. Rosenberg, PhD, with a foreword by Deepak Chopra.

The basic structure of nonviolent communication involves addressing conflicts by stating, “When you say X, I feel Y, because I need Z,” allowing for a more receptive conversation without triggering defensive reactions.

I found this approach quite effective. While my mother and I are not particularly close, this method improved our interactions and helped me develop a healthier relationship with myself. Now, most of my troubling childhood memories, including the incident with the clothes, no longer evoke trauma.

That memory and its associated feelings have become almost insignificant for me now, years later. Yet, the most crucial aspect of communication I discovered was the one I developed with myself, largely fostered by a consistent meditation practice.

So, how can one meditate effectively to observe thoughts without judgment, release them, and return to the present moment to process painful childhood experiences and enhance self-awareness?

The technique my psychologist taught me involves deep diaphragmatic breathing to engage the vagus nerve and cultivate inner tranquility (inhale for eight seconds, pause, then exhale for eight seconds), while also setting an intention or mantra to mentally repeat.

He also recommended adding an auditory dimension to the mantra by associating it with music in your mind, which I found increased intellectual engagement and clarity.

The aim is to clear your mind of everything except the mantra, which you repeat in your head. I chose the mantra “Hamsa,” meaning “I am that which I will become,” symbolizing my personal growth.

Whenever my thoughts drifted while focusing on “Hamsa,” I acknowledged the stray thoughts, allowed them to exist in a judgment-free space, and then gently redirected my focus back to the mantra.

Each time I returned to the mantra, I was essentially exercising my mental focus, which strengthened like a muscle with practice.

By consistently practicing this method of nonjudgmental thought observation, letting go, and staying present, you gradually gain better control over your thoughts while enhancing self-awareness of those thoughts.

Engaging in this type of meditation provides greater mental and emotional clarity, boosting self-awareness, helping you confront disempowering beliefs and feelings, and opening new avenues for reframing experiences in more constructive ways.

Essentially, when you allow yourself to be present within yourself, to recognize your own existence without judgment, and to process challenging memories and emotions, the simple act of becoming aware of your thinking patterns fosters improved self-awareness across all areas of your life. This can lead you toward more constructive thought processes.