Meditation Migraine

For a variety of reasons, all connected to me being so high-strung, my analyst suggested that I try meditation. I'm a terrible meditator. The inside of my head -- heck, the inside of my body -- contains a cacophony, noises of thoughts and insecurities and ideas and plans and memories all shouting and clanging against one another and I can't quite relax or focus or do whatever it is that you are supposed to be doing while mediating. In fact, I'm not even sure what you are supposed to be doing while meditating. Yoga, I got, because you have to focus to keep your balance or to get a deeper stretch. Just sitting there? At best, I fall asleep.

Still, I'm up for almost anything, and she suggested that I go to this place where people meditate in a group with a leader or guide or guru or whatever they are called. The group meets in a Unitarian Church, of course. I haven't yet gone to the group, but I did find their website and they have online "guided meditations," which I used as a substitute and which I have tried four times.

On the first try, I started up a migraine. Seriously! I listened, and relaxed, and felt myself relax. Then, I felt that electric worm of pain wriggling its way down the crevices of my brain and had to run for the Sudafed immediately. Fortunately, the Sudafed caught the headache before it could do any damage.

The second attempt was in the morning, before work. No electric worms that time, but I don't remember much about it at all except that I seemed particularly on and focused all the way through my teaching. That reminded me of back when I played Mrs. Venable in Suddenly, Last Summer. On the night of our first performance, as the theater filled up and the young women bubbled around me, I sat on a chair and, I suppose, meditated. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths and calmed myself down. When I got up to make my entrance, and for the rest of the performance, I was there, in the character, in the moment, uninhibited. That's what my classes felt like after the second attempt at meditation, and the feeling was exhilarating, which made me want to try a third time.

On the third time, I fell asleep.

Still chasing the "there" feeling, I tried again, this time for 20 minutes instead of 10. Good god, but sitting in one place trying to focus on just being right at that moment is difficult. Running 10 miles doesn't take that much effort. Still, I could do it for a second or even two in a row a few times. I felt myself relaxing just a bit here and there. I also felt pain.

Yes! Pain.

Not psychological pain, but actual pain in my muscles. This happens when someone gives me a back rub or a massage. I walk around with lots of aches and pain and tension. When my muscles start to relax, the pain focuses, becomes localized, concentrates itself into particular places, like where the strap of my bag sits, or just below it. Like in my jaw, where I grind my teeth. Like up in my skull, where the migraines hibernate. Like over my skull, in a half-cap of tension. Somehow, I don't think this is what is supposed to happen!

Also, I don't think you are supposed to be lightheaded afterwards. I think I don't breathe deeply enough. The guru kept saying to relax the abdomen to get a deeper breath. Thirty years of conditioning to hold my stomach in just will not let me do that.

I'm waiting for the "there" feeling to kick in. Perhaps I won't notice until later in the day.

Meanwhile, I have to go find the Sudafed because that electric worm of migraine is stirring and only the Sudafed can beat it back into submission.