Why I Started Meditating: A Slow-Burning Awakening
My journey into meditation wasn’t sparked by a sudden impulse—it was a slow and quiet fermentation. Years ago, I already had a vague awareness that meditation was an ancient and profound practice. People said it could regulate the body and mind, enhance awareness, and even unlock hidden potential. But back then, I never took any real steps to try it. I lacked both the method and the urgency. Meditation felt more like a seed buried deep in my subconscious—a presence I knew existed, though it had never sprouted.
The spark that finally lit the flame came from a book: Success Through Stillness by Russell Simmons. This book served as both an introduction to meditation and a practical guide to self-transformation. Simmons didn’t just explain how to meditate; he also shared vivid stories about how this practice gradually reshaped the course of his life. What I loved most was how the book demystified meditation. It pulled it down from the lofty altar of “spiritual mysticism” and placed it squarely into the realm of everyday practice—something I felt I could start doing immediately.
That very night, after finishing the book, I sat cross-legged and began my first formal meditation session. No background music, no ceremony—just me and my breath. It felt like the seed had finally cracked open and sent its first root into the soil.
My Four Go-To Meditation Techniques
When I first started meditating, I was honestly confused—what exactly was I supposed to “do”? But over time, I discovered several approaches that worked well for me. These are not rigid techniques but rather doorways into inner stillness. Here are the four methods I rely on most:
1. Breath Awareness: Returning to the Present Moment
The most foundational technique is simply observing the breath. I don’t try to control its rhythm—I just watch the natural flow of air moving in and out. Posture matters: keeping the spine upright allows the breath to flow more deeply into the lower belly or dantian, fostering a sense of rootedness. If I slouch, the breath tends to get stuck in the chest, and the body feels tense.
I avoid counting breaths, as that pulls my attention away from feeling and toward calculating. Instead, I allow myself to fully immerse in the sensation of breathing, and gradually, my awareness drifts away from everyday thoughts.
2. Pulse Awareness: Anchoring the Mind in the Body’s Rhythm
The second method is pulse observation. I gently focus my attention on a spot in the body—perhaps the wrist, the neck, or the temples—and feel the steady rhythm of my heartbeat. Each pulse is like a metronome, drawing me deeper into stillness. It’s a subtle but powerful way to sync with the body’s natural tempo.
3. Heartbeat Listening: Tuning into the Core
Similar to pulse observation, this method invites a deeper internal focus. I tune into the sensation of my heart beating within my chest. Sometimes, my body even sways slightly in rhythm with the beat, as if responding to its subtle vibration. This technique is especially helpful during emotional turbulence—it calms the mind by anchoring awareness in the heart.
4. Skin Sensation: Sensing Energy at the Surface
This is a more unique method. I focus on the surface of my skin—say, my arms or the backs of my hands—and become aware of subtle sensations: airflow, temperature shifts, even the warmth of circulating blood. Sometimes I feel what seems like a faint electric current or a gentle heat spreading outward. This helps dissolve the boundary between the body and its surroundings, creating a feeling of energetic openness.
The Three Consciousness States of Meditation
As my practice deepened, I realized meditation isn’t a fixed experience—it’s a dynamic journey through layers of awareness. Typically, I move through three distinct states during a session:
1. Heightened Physical and Sensory Awareness
In the early stage, I become more attuned to my body and senses. With my eyes closed, I may still sense light behind my eyelids, hear faint external sounds, or feel subtle airflow on my skin. Sometimes my limbs go numb or tingly, but I don’t judge or resist these sensations—I just observe. They usually dissolve on their own as energy rebalances in the body.
2. Thoughts Arising and Passing
The second stage is where thoughts begin to surface—like clips from a film reel. Conversations, worries, to-do lists—they all show up. At first, I’d get swept away by these thoughts. But over time, I learned to watch them from a third-person perspective. I neither engage nor resist. This “witnessing” practice helped me build emotional resilience in daily life too.
3. Dreamlike States of Expansive Awareness
The final state is the most mysterious—a sort of lucid dreaming. Strange images appear: alien landscapes, vast spaces, unfamiliar symbols, even scenes that defy description. It feels like my consciousness leaves the physical body and travels to a broader dimension. This “mental wandering” is vivid, yet I remain fully aware.
These three states often cycle in and out. When I emerge from that dreamlike space and return to my body, a session usually lasts 25 to 35 minutes. I may feel physically tired afterward, but my mind is crystal clear—like it’s been rinsed of all noise.
Unusual Experiences: Signals from the Edge of Consciousness
Throughout these 100 days, I’ve had several extraordinary experiences—moments that revealed meditation’s potential to open hidden doors in the mind.
1. The Golden Light
This happened during my second session. With eyes closed, I suddenly felt a beam of golden light shining down from above my forehead. It wasn’t imagined—I felt warmth spreading from my crown to my hands. Although it was a cold evening, my body felt bathed in a comforting heat.
Startled, I opened my eyes to check if someone had turned on a light, but the room remained dim. When I closed my eyes again, the light gradually faded. I had a few more encounters with this golden glow—though none as intense as the first.
Later, I mentioned it to a qigong practitioner who had 30 years of experience. He told me that not every meditator experiences this “golden light,” and that it might indicate an opening of internal energy fields. Still, its meaning remains unclear—perhaps it’s just a manifestation of consciousness.
2. Falling into Deep Darkness
Another time, I deliberately turned off all the lights before meditating. As I closed my eyes, I wasn’t met with the usual grayish black—but with a thick, velvety darkness that felt almost alive. It had depth, like a magnetic pull drawing me inward. Though initially uneasy, I surrendered to it. That darkness didn’t just obscure—it seemed to cleanse.
3. Ultra-Sensory Awareness in a Zen Nap
Once, during a light nap-meditation at work, I entered a strange state: my body felt deeply relaxed, as if asleep, but my mind was hyper-aware. I could hear the slightest sounds—coworkers shifting in chairs, water dripping, the ticking of the clock—sounds I normally never noticed. It was my first taste of the phenomenon known as “the body sleeps, the mind awakens.”
Final Thoughts: Meditation Is More Than Stillness
These 100 days of meditation have done more than calm my nerves or sharpen my focus. They’ve completely reshaped my understanding of “consciousness.” It’s not just about knowing what you’re doing—it’s about seeing why you’re doing it. Meditation gave me the key to a door I didn’t even know existed—the door to inner awareness.
And I know now, this journey is only just beginning. Beyond the next breath, perhaps more golden light and dark unknowns await.