Longevity &amp; Performance

Longevity &amp; Performance Archives

Longevity &amp; Performance | SUCCESS | What Achievers Read

I’m a sucker for list articles. Especially ones providing tips for fostering personal growth. The more I’ve clicked on these stories, the more I’ve noticed a recurring suggestion: meditation.

I’ve been intrigued by meditation for a while now. I’ve even tried it out a couple of times, always without direction, and I never found success.

Related: <a href="https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/blog/i-actually-tried-meditation-for-30-days-this-is-what-happened">I Actually Tried Meditation for 30 Days—This Is What Happened</a>

In my experiments, I’d sit for a few minutes, attempting to think about one thing explicitly, or nothing at all. The goal varied on the technique I was trying, often something I’d read online or my mom had seen on Oprah’s channel.

And inevitably, I’d go insane. I couldn’t get it right. When my timer went off, I was more tangled than when I started.

The problem was clearly me, not meditation, which is why I decided to sign up for a class. I figured the structure and guidance would give me a chance to get out of my own way. I was right.

For more than a year now, I have been meditating daily. The results have been so positive that I’ve come to view meditation like any foundational health block, such as quality sleep or a nutritious diet. It impacts everything. It makes it a little easier to be me.

Although it helped to find a technique that fit, the difference has come from my commitment to show up consistently and <a href="https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/article/do-you-have-adaptability">remain open to whatever happens</a>.

Because once you do that, the benefits are boundless. Here are three.

<h2>1. Meditation has helped me be myself.</h2>

I admit it: I have road rage. Which is uncharacteristic, because when I’m anywhere else, (I like to believe) I’m easygoing. It’s not the kind of rage where I confront fellow commuters, but it’s arguably as hazardous.

Every day I navigate two rush hours, and every day I’m faced with offenses that drive me to exasperation: people not letting me merge, people driving below the speed limit, people cutting in at the lip of a freeway exit so they don’t have to wait in line (as if the rest of us want to either).

<a href="https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/article/how-to-control-your-anger">I sit there seething</a>, banging my steering wheel, as the tension inside simmers. My only recourse is pulling along the offending vehicle to give its driver the turn-and-look treatment (which is never as satisfying as it should be).

But since I’ve started meditating, I’m not pushed beyond my boiling point as easily or as often. Don’t get me wrong—the aforementioned misdeeds are just as unacceptable; I’m just not as affected.

As handy as this composure has been on my commutes, it has also permeated other areas of my life. I still feel impatience, <a href="https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/blog/how-i-found-balance-through-fear">anxiety and fear</a>; they’ve just been dulled to a more manageable level.

It’s as if the daily meditations have doubled as dress rehearsals, allowing me to practice being calm and even-keeled, reminding me that the extra four seconds I have to wait for that guy to go when the light turns green aren’t worth being a jerk about.

For the first time in a long time, I’m more capable of behaving like the person my parents raised me to be.

<h2>2. Meditation has given me new perspective.</h2>

In the Seinfeld episode “The Pick,” George doesn’t know how to handle a particular situation, so <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJxq3CnSREA" target="_blank" rel="noopener">he asks Kramer for advice</a>.

“What does the Little Man inside you say?” Kramer says. “The Little Man knows all.”

“My Little Man’s an idiot,” George replies.

Like Costanza, I struggle with my Little Man—that inner narrator who critiques everything I do, say and think. At different times, he’s instilled fear, <a href="https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/article/how-to-get-your-confidence-back-in-5-minutes-or-less">shattered confidence</a> and sabotaged attempts I’ve made to move forward.

So naturally, my meditation was ripe for invasion.

When I first started practicing, the Little Man would grade each effort, not just after I was done, but as I was doing it. Going full backseat-meditator on me, he’d judge how well I was connecting with my mantra or impatiently whine, How much longer?

Related:&nbsp;<a href="https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/article/meditation-your-way">Meditation—Your Way​</a>

Finally, the teaching kicked in. My class taught me that there’s no such thing as a good or bad meditation session, because each one gives you what you need: Sometimes that’s the chance to learn or process stresses; other times it’s <a href="https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/article/50-ways-to-relax-without-spending-money">the chance to relax</a> or gain critical insights.

And really, the same can be said of any experience I have. Too often, I’ve gotten hung up on what I could’ve or should’ve done differently, or how I was victimized by an unfortunate fate.

Now, no matter what comes my way, I’m much quicker to accept it. I recognize that whatever happens, for better or worse, is what was supposed to happen. And it’s up to me to acknowledge it, learn from it and trust that it provides the building blocks I need to progress.

With an outlook like that, the Little Man has no retort.

<h2>3. Meditation has made me tougher.</h2>

My family and King’s Hawaiian sweet rolls aside, my two passions are writing and golf.

As a writer, I often like having written something more than I liked actually writing it. The destination can be more enjoyable than the journey.

Staring at my computer, the screen is as blank as my brain feels. I either have no words and no direction, or a million words I can take in a million directions. The net result is the same.

There’s also that blinking cursor, like a tapping finger, taunting me with its I’m waiting! impatience. It doesn’t matter how many times I fight through this inertia; there’s at least a part of me convinced that this time I’ll be exposed as a fraud.

In golf, every shot you face can be as intimidating as that blank screen. On the first tee, your round is unwritten, and though there are outside forces like wind and water, the story that unfolds is ultimately up to you.

The ball is just sitting there, waiting for you to tell it where to go. And when you give it bad directions, there’s nobody to blame but yourself. Do that enough during a round, and it’s not long before you’re overwhelmed by a sense of inadequacy.

Fortunately, meditation has made writing and golf more manageable, even more enjoyable.

I once heard someone describe meditation as a shower for your brain. That’s a good characterization. My daily practice helps cleanse the filth—fear, anxiety and self-doubt—that derails me. This keeps me calmer while also <a href="https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/article/rohn-7-traits-of-the-most-resilient-people">making me tougher and more resilient</a>.

When I can’t think of what to write or when I’ve banana’d my Titleist into somebody’s swimming pool, instead of my mind turning in on itself, I now have the energy and clarity to absorb the hit, put the past in the past and get back into the present.

The results prove it. Since I began meditating, I have lowered my golf handicap by salvaging numerous disaster-destined rounds, and I have been more productive as a writer.

I also wrote these words you’re reading: my very own list article.

Related: <a href="https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/blog/why-you-might-as-well-jump">Why You Might as Well Jump</a>

Become the best version of yourself by incorporating mindfulness into your daily routine.

Become the best version of yourself by incorporating mindfulness into your daily routine. | SUCCESS

3 Thoughtful Ways You Can Benefit From Meditation

Comment

3 Thoughtful Ways You Can Benefit From Meditation | SUCCESS

https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/wp-content/uploads/legacy/sites/default/files/main/blogposts/thoughtfulwaysyoucanbenefitfrommeditation.jpg

Home

SUCCESS

https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/success_opengraph_image.png

Brent Stoller is the author of the weekly column, "Advice for the Modern Man," and a contributor to SUCCESS, HuffPost, mindbodygreen and others. Follow him at BrentStoller.com, and on Twitter and Facebook.

https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/05/Brent-Stoller.jpg

Brent Stoller

Personal Development

Personal Development Archives

Personal Development | SUCCESS | What Achievers Read

Well, I’ll just throw up on myself.

That is the thought running through my head while sitting in the airplane I will soon be jumping out of. I committed to this skydiving trip months ago, wanting to celebrate my friend’s birthday in style, and now with the moment of truth approaching—and no restrooms on board—I’m preparing for everything.

My stomach is relatively calm, which is totally unlike me (I’m the guy who threw up before every Little League baseball game). What makes this serenity even more surprising is the fact that the plane’s door is directly in front of me, and it has been open since just after takeoff. And as the first one in line to jump, I have a clear view of the reality awaiting me.

&nbsp;

<h3 class="rtecenter">And as the first one in line to jump, I have a clear view of the reality awaiting me.</h3>

&nbsp;

The air is turning colder, the world below is getting smaller, and it won’t be long until we reach the drop zone.

***

The first wave of nervousness shot through me months earlier when I saw the subject line “Skydiving” in my inbox. I’d always thought about skydiving the same way a teenager thinks about asking out a math class crush: terrifying, but something I had to do… someday.

Still, <a href="https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/article/19-quotes-about-facing-your-fears">the fear</a>, self-doubt and outright terror lurked. Would I have the nerve to go through with it? Was it possible to suffer a midair heart attack? Could I free fall through my own vomit?

But then I remembered to breathe, which gave me a second to assess the big picture of my life. It wasn’t pretty. At the time, my day-to-day existence was an exercise in monotony. I had a job with no future, an outlook with no hope and a string of first dates who had no intention of calling me back.

My life was this way for myriad reasons, but at the root of my stagnancy was <a href="https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/blog/what-ive-learned-from-living-boldly-and-taking-risks">an aversion to risk</a>. I could not make myself take a chance. Shackled to my safe space, I refused to engage in anything unless I could first play it through to its conclusion in my mind’s eye. Uncertainty was for suckers.

Related: <a href="https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/article/afraid-of-risks-how-to-be-bolder">Afraid of Risks? How to Be Bolder</a>

I didn’t want to be this way, though. I didn’t want to be crippled by the anxiety of the unknown. I wanted to be bold, daring and OK with falling flat on my face. I’d heard Tim McGraw’s song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_9TShlMkQnc" target="_blank" rel="noopener">“Live Like You Were Dying,”</a> and I’d read Tuesdays With Morrie, memorizing its “Once you learn how to die, you learn how to live” wisdom.

And finally, I realized nothing would put me eye to eye with death—and life (fingers crossed!)—quite like skydiving.

***

That’s how I found myself crammed into this two-propeller plane, putting my life in the hands of Instructor Ivan, despite having met him only 20 minutes ago. I would have been more confident with someone who had a Top Gun-y name, like Eagle or Swoop, but considering he’s strapped to my back, I figure Ivan is as invested in our safe landing as anyone.

Making our ascent, I force a few jokes with my friends and rethink my decision to bat leadoff. Once the skyline is small enough to fit in a snow globe, I figure we’re close to our jump altitude—until I look at my altimeter and see we’re only a third of the way there. Turns out 14,000 feet is higher than I thought.

At this moment, I accept that my jumpsuit might double as a nausea bag. I try to focus on my breathing, waiting for panic to take hold, for the inevitable freak-out that had wrecked me so many times before.

Then the buzzer sounds.

&nbsp;

<h3 class="rtecenter">I’m crouched at the door, peering over my gray New Balances at the checkered landscape nearly 3 miles below. I close my eyes. This is happening.</h3>

&nbsp;

Before I can think, I’m crouched at the door, peering over my gray New Balances at the checkered landscape nearly 3 miles below. I close my eyes. This is happening.

Rock forward... Rock back... GO!

Related: <a href="https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/article/126-ways-to-be-extraordinary">126 Ways to Be Extraordinary</a>

As my body gives in to gravity—despite my stomach defying it—the Did I just jump out of an airplane? shock wave washes over me. Seconds later, while plummeting toward Earth at 120 mph, I open my eyes to a feeling I’d long been searching for: freedom.

Despite what’s depicted <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e7mSAvR_DUc&amp;t=1m55s" target="_blank" rel="noopener">in the original Point Break,</a> you cannot carry on conversations at terminal velocity; the wind is too deafening. But I don’t care. I spin 720 degrees to the left. I let out a primal scream. I flash the “Hook ’Em Horns” signal to the horizon. So this is what it’s like to fly.

At 6,000 feet, I barely notice the tug of the parachute. The following few minutes of floating are as nerve-wracking as any; the stillness allows my mind to grasp that I am suspended in space. But as we glide back onto solid ground, my entire body is electric.

***

Unlike asking your crush on a second date, I have no desire to go skydiving again. Consider it crossed off my bucket list. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t carried forward the teachings of those seven death-defying minutes. I have.

Since that day, <a href="https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/article/5-lessons-on-how-to-make-a-successful-career-change">I’ve changed careers</a>, gotten married and moved across the country three times. And I couldn’t have done any of that without tapping into the same strength and clarity it took me to tumble out of that airplane.

For too long I sabotaged my momentum by fearing results instead of focusing on process. This kept me sedentary and stuck, unable to move. The less I tried, the more I couldn’t fail.

And even when I did try, I didn’t think about what I could do right; I only thought about what might go wrong, convinced that if I worried and obsessed and awful-ized enough, I could pre-emptively protect myself from defeat. I could not. In fact, I all but guaranteed it.

&nbsp;

<h3 class="rtecenter">We only have so much control over an outcome. No matter how hard we try, and no matter how much we prepare, that parachute is either going to open or it isn’t.</h3>

&nbsp;

Although it’s a tough pill for the obsessive in me to swallow, the reality is that <a href="https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/article/do-you-have-adaptability">we only have so much control over an outcome</a>. No matter how hard we try, and no matter how much we prepare, that parachute is either going to open or it isn’t.

When faced with a risk, be it abandoning a working aircraft or attempting a new endeavor, it’s on us to set the stage—to show up, to commit and to trust that whatever happens is what’s supposed to happen. Once we’ve done that, there’s only one thing left to do: Jump.

Related: <a href="https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/blog/when-you-aim-high-you-set-yourself-up-to-fall-far-heres-why-its-worth-it">When You Aim High, You Set Yourself Up to Fall Far—Here’s Why It’s Worth It</a>

On skydiving, risk and the realization that changed my life

On skydiving, risk and the realization that changed my life | SUCCESS

Why You Might as Well Jump

Why You Might as Well Jump | SUCCESS

https://successcom.wpenginepowered.com/wp-content/uploads/legacy/sites/default/files/main/blogposts/whyyoumightaswelljump.jpg

Brent Stoller

Latest Articles

3 Thoughtful Ways You Can Benefit From Meditation

Why You Might as Well Jump