Camel Lights and Mindfulness

Prior to embarking on my healing journey, I often felt dissociated from my surroundings. My mornings began with a frantic rush, as I leaped out of bed and pushed my body to its limits until I ultimately collapsed back into the same chaotic bed. This cycle would repeat day after day. If I wasn’t preoccupied with work or other obligations, I was likely numbing myself with alcohol and drugs—my own methods of self-medication.

Interestingly, during my cigarette breaks, I would pause everything I was doing. Unlike many who multitask while smoking, I would sit down, take a deep breath, and savor each inhalation, releasing the tension in my body with each exhale. This brief moment of mindfulness was my first taste of meditation, albeit unintentional.

Years later, I realized that this practice resembled what seasoned Buddhist monks do—minus the cigarettes. I didn’t recognize it at the time, but my smoking ritual served as an initial introduction to meditation.

Stepping Into My Own Shoes

Eventually, after overcoming addiction, I recognized that my struggles were not solely about substance use; they revolved around facing the uncomfortable emotions I had long avoided. The reality of being human—experiencing feelings, unprocessed trauma, and anxiety—was overwhelming without any means of escape.

I recently heard Dr. Hillary McBride articulate, "We come out of dissociation the same way we went into it." This profound statement resonated with me, emphasizing how our nervous systems react to overwhelming situations.

Dissociation often arises when we encounter situations that our minds cannot process, leading to a disconnect from the present moment. I firmly believe that dissociation is not merely a symptom of trauma; it is trauma itself. When faced with unbearable realities, our bodies instinctively separate us from pain, but that pain remains trapped within us, waiting to be addressed.

To confront this unresolved trauma, I knew I needed a supportive environment—one where I felt safe, accepted, and loved. Only then could I begin to face the pain I had long avoided.

Learning to Meditate

In my early days of sobriety, I lacked direction and often sought advice from others who had successfully navigated their recovery. One of the most common suggestions was to establish a meditation practice. Eager to escape my discomfort, I decided to give it a genuine try.

I created a meditation space in my apartment, complete with cushions, candles, and other spiritual items. However, my initial attempts were simply glorified naps, as my body only knew how to be still in the context of sleep. Sensing I wasn't doing it right, I adjusted my posture to remain awake.

I quickly discovered that the act of being still and doing nothing felt entirely foreign and uncomfortable. My nervous system screamed at me, questioning my decision to stop the incessant busyness that had become my norm.

Meditation challenged everything I had learned about suppressing my thoughts and feelings. It was asking me to do the opposite of what I had conditioned myself to avoid.

Meditation Ain't for Everybody

I often wondered if I constructed a narrative of self-loathing to justify my reluctance to experience the discomfort of being present. Meditation challenged me to re-engage with a life I had deemed unworthy.

Before I delve deeper into my personal journey, it’s crucial to acknowledge the privilege I had in accessing a supportive healing community. Surrounded by therapists, mentors, and friends, I could devote time to my recovery. This environment played a pivotal role in my exploration of meditation.

However, it's important to recognize that for many, especially those with significant trauma histories, meditation can be counterproductive. For example, a child who dissociated during traumatic experiences may find it re-traumatizing when instructed to be still and close their eyes.

For some, meditation can trigger flashbacks or evoke feelings of vulnerability, leading their nervous systems to perceive threats. In my own experience, I found that transcendental meditation sometimes allowed me to escape into a state of blissful oblivion—similar to the high I sought through substance use, but now framed as “spiritual.”

Embodiment IS for Everybody

Ultimately, meditation can serve various purposes: a tool for healing, a potential weapon, or merely a distraction. It's critical to approach it with intention. Practicing meditation for the sake of appearances could lead to harmful outcomes if not done mindfully.

Hydration is essential for survival, and while drinking juice is one way to meet that need, it isn’t mandatory. Similarly, finding ways to embody and integrate experiences is vital for a healthy life, with meditation being just one method to achieve this.

If you can connect safely with your body and emotions through meditation, then pursue it. However, if it triggers trauma or leads to disconnection, it may be wiser to explore alternative practices. Many find fulfillment in movement-based experiences like yoga, walking, or even creative outlets like coloring.

Deeply traumatized individuals often feel more secure when they are in motion, as stillness can feel threatening. They thrive in environments where they can remain vigilant and responsive.

All of Our Problems

Blaise Pascal once stated, "All of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone." While I once appreciated this quote, I now question its accuracy.

I believe that many forms of harm and addiction stem from dissociation. One can indeed sit quietly while being dissociated. If I were to build upon Pascal's insight, I'd suggest, "All of humanity's problems arise from our resistance to fully experiencing the present moment and the human condition."

When we avoid inhabiting our bodies and acknowledging our feelings, we may project our discomfort onto others, leading to conflict. Our only options become presence or dissociation, where true presence can foster growth and understanding, while dissociation perpetuates suffering.

A neighbor once asked me to relocate my wind chime, stating, "We're meditators, and it's distracting." Despite meditating for nearly a decade, I had never identified myself as a "meditator," which struck me as amusing. I wondered if he was meditating to engage with reality or escape it.

The first video, "Being Embodied I: Gateway to Aliveness and Spirit," featuring Tara Brach, delves into the significance of being present in our bodies and how embodiment connects us to our true selves.

The second video, "Understanding Dissociation, Mindfulness, and Securefulness," presented by Christine Forner, explores the complexities of dissociation and the importance of mindful practices in fostering security and well-being.

Adam Murauskas is a relationship coach and a Medium top writer. In 2019, he and his wife Rebecca left their careers to focus on helping individuals heal. Take a free relationship quiz at FixYourPicker.com or find daily inspiration on Instagram @fixyourpicker.