Tamara Jeffries
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Now I See
Blog
Of Mysteries and Meditation
| Posted on 3 February, 2011 at 14:17 |
comments (33)
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I’ve tried and tried. Been to
retreats; done it at church; practiced it walking, sitting, chanting, silent.
I’ve made a place to “sit” at home. But meditation does not come easy for me.  I believe mindfulness
meditation can have benefits. And so do other folks: According to a recent
post in the New York Times’ “Well” blog, “researchers report that
those who meditated for about 30 minutes a day for eight weeks had measurable
changes in gray-matter density in parts of the brain associated with memory,
sense of self, empathy and stress.” The study showed a boost gray matter in areas of the brain
associated with regulating emotions and taking perspective, and a decrease in
the areas associated with anxiety and stress. Less stress, more equanimity?
I’ll take it. But 30 minutes of meditation? I dunno. I can sit quietly for half an
hour, no problem. But the goal, it seems, is to keep your mind still for that
long—and that’s where the trouble lies. If you saw me meditating, I’d probably look peaceful enough. But if you could read my mind,
you’d see it churning like a commercial-grade washing machine agitating an
improperly sorted load of clothes. Recently, though, I received some unexpected encouragement
in Walter Mosley’s latest crime mystery series. It features Leonid
McGill, a quick-fisted, middle-aged P.I. who used to work more cases for the bad
guys than the good and who, when Mosley introduces him, is trying to change his
karma (though I don’t believe karma is the word he’d use). The plot includes mysterious
NY powerbrokers, remorseless assassins with hearts of gold and beautiful women
in various stages of distress— plus so many fight scenes and plot twists you
have to read every chapter twice to keep up. In the midst of murder-mystery
madness, our protagonist McGill finds his center either duking it out in a sweaty boxing gym or practicing
Buddhist meditation.
When he’s in a particularly
stressful situation—say, being interrogated by suspicious police who want him behind bars by any means necessary—he turns to mindful breathing.
I think that last phrase may be have been intended as a bit
of Mosley irony, but even 30 minutes of peace would feel pretty good for a
single mom with a stressful job and way too much on her plate. And counting to ten? That, I can do. If my favorite mystery author and a team of neuro-experts say it works, maybe I'll give meditation another try.
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