I Lie Down When I Meditate. Is That Cheating?

I took a pretty intense meditation course about eight years ago. Or maybe I only think it was intense because it was my introduction to meditation. But I remember the class vividly because it marked the beginning of my struggle with “The Sit.”

The course was a Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction Class, based on the teachings of Jon Kabat- Zinn. My doctor recommended I enroll in the class. At the time, I was highly stressed and depressed. I was clenching my jaw so tightly at night that I was doing twice-weekly acupuncture treatments to get it under control. During the day, I was being driven crazy by ringing in my ears (tinnitus), which was accompanied by hearing loss.

So I enrolled in the eight-week course. We met once a week, three hours at a time. While we didn’t sit the entire time, we did sit during each class. For our weekly meditation homework, we sat some more.

I spent most of these “sits” crying.

Sitting triggered pains in my shoulder, my neck, my back. Sitting brought my tinnitus into focus. In short, sitting caused pain, and it made me feel like a failure. Once the course ended, so did my meditation practice.

Photo by Mike from Pexels

But two years ago, I found my way back to meditation after taking an online course. In the interim, I’d done hypnotherapy, learned to quiet my tinnitus, and made lifestyle changes (namely, changing my job) that helped lessen my stress.

While my new meditation practice has stuck, “The Sit” hasn’t. I still find sitting uncomfortable. My back pain flares. My shoulders ache. My neck strains. My jaw clenches.

Instead, I’ve found a meditation position that works for me: I lie on my back, a thin pillow under my head, and I put my legs up on an ottoman. It’s a sitting position–on my back. I love it. In this pose, I “sit” longer, my “sits” are deeper, and my love for my practice is growing.

Only I feel like a cheater.

Meditation books, blogs, and gurus emphasize the importance of “The Sit.” Lying down is usually only recommended if you are sick, in pain, or bedridden.

I finally spoke with my meditation teacher about my sitting problems. I feel like a failure, I told her, or a cheater. While I sit on a chair during our weekly meditation classes, I lie down at home. “Is it meditating if I’m lying down?” I asked her.

She responded with her typical warmth and calming smile. Yes, she assured me it is. And yes, she said, I’m doing just fine. I’m listening to my mind and my body, and right now, lying meditation serves me.

Maybe over the course of my practice, I’ll transition. Maybe one day, my “sits” will truly become sits. But if I can quiet my mind, find increased inner peace, consistently follow my practice, and feel my body healing, I must be doing something right.

For now, I’m embracing a sit that truly serves me–even if my “sit” takes place lying down.

I’m Now That Woo Girl

I read the first paragraph of this Glamour article on Reiki energy healing, and instantly fell in love:

Reiki Helped Me Heal From the Trauma of Sexual Assault

I’ve recently become one of those people who are into Reiki—aka “energy healing,” a form of alternative medicine. This is a complete shock to me. I generally raise my eyebrows at mentions of “chakras” and “attuning”—but I’m now that girl. Whenever it comes up in conversation that I’ve not only tried Reiki but find it really powerful, I tend to get one of two responses (both of which involve raised eyebrows). Version one goes, “Oh, I’ve always been interested in trying that!” Version two goes, “Oh, wow,” accompanied by a studious sip of a drink.

–By  Krystin Arneson

Why did I fall in love with this article?

Because author Krystin Arneson captures what drew me to The Woo and what kept me from exploring it for so long.

In all honesty, I didn’t want to be that girl. I was a girl who wanted to get good grades, have a good career, and live a life filled with close friends, family, and my husband.

But this narrow path that I’d put myself on began to unravel in my 30s. In fact, I actually tried energy healing in my late 20s/early 30s when my job as a journalist, which required stressful hours in front of a computer and very few breaks, was causing chronic pain in my shoulder and neck.

After nerve block injections didn’t alleviate the pain, my doctor sent me to a woman who specialized in The Alexander Technique movement therapy … and energy healing.

While the Alexander Technique was helpful, I was more intrigued by the energy healing. I’d lay on a massage table, with my eyes closed. I’d inhale various essential oils while my therapist would hold her hands over me. It sounds similar to the Reiki treatments Krystin received. I don’t fully know what transpired while my eyes were closed, but I always felt better, more relaxed, and calm after a session.

Eventually, I stopped seeing this therapist, and I slowly stopped giving this energy work much thought. I moved on with my life even though my physical pain persisted, as did my struggles with mild depression and negative thinking.

But you know what they say in The Land of Woo — what you ignore only gets stronger. It took much more serious health issues to bring me back to The Woo, to make it an integral part of my life, and to start gaining the confidence to talk about it.

So, Does the Woo Work?

What I love about this article is that it doesn’t hide the fact that doctors have yet to fully grasp why Reiki may work. But that hasn’t stopped mainstream hospitals like Johns HopkinsYale New Haven HealthCleveland Clinic, and UCLA Health from offering the treatment.

Maybe, some doctors speculate, Reiki works because it relaxes people. Perhaps, some doctors guess, Reiki works because it quiets the fight-or-flight response.

Or maybe Reiki works on some level we have yet to understand, cannot grasp, or will never be able to pinpoint.

The important thing is that Reiki does bring relief and healing to some people. And that is why I am becoming that girl.

The Courageous Act of Saying No

The real question is, are we brave enough to want our heart’s desire? Are we daring enough to believe that we can have, be, or do what we want? 

– Sheri Salata, The Beautiful No

I recently read Sheri Salata’s book, The Beautiful No: And Other Tales of Trial, Transcendence, and Transformation.

If you haven’t heard of Sheri, you have most likely heard of her boss — Oprah Winfrey. Sheri was the executive producer for The Oprah Winfrey Show, and then co-president of the Oprah Winfrey Network.

Yup. In short, she pretty much had *THE* dream job followed by another dream job. 

Then she quit.

Why? She was unhealthy and unhappy. She was 100 pounds overweight and single, with no relationship in sight.  She was in her 50s and knew something had to give. That something turned out to be her job.

I devoured her book. 

Here was someone who had access to all the great thinkers, leaders, and healers of our time, but she still avoided taking the difficult step of putting herself first and making room for her own health and happiness.

“I could recite the tenets of best-life living backward and forward. I could produce the hell out of transformation. I just continued to avoid producing the transformation of my own life.”

– Sheri Salata, The Beautiful No

That’s what I’ve done for years. I’ve defined myself by what I produce at work, how much money I make, the clothes I wear, the house I own. But no matter how many milestones I achieve – Bigger house! Nicer wardrobe! Cooler job! Happy clients! — it hasn’t made my soul happy. I’ve felt lost, unfulfilled, and confused because I was living the life I thought I was “supposed” to be living. 

What Sheri did takes courage. Yes, she had the means to walk away from a fabulous, well-paying, prestigious job. So, on some level, it was “easier” for her to walk away. But walking away and leaving your professional identity behind — especially as a middle-aged woman — takes guts.    

For me, starting this blog takes guts. I want to explore an aspect of myself — my fascination with The Woo — that is outside the bounds of the person I always thought I would be. It means giving up the life I thought I was supposed to have to live the life I was meant to have.

I hope I’m ready to produce the hell out of my own personal transformation.