Get your head in the right space

Stressed out? Kirsten Brooks tests out the modern way to meditate: online…

I am, what you might call (and many have), a stresshead. I agonise over essays before I’ve even started making notes, every cough and sneeze may well be the onset of flu and the moment something doesn’t go to plan, my stomach churns so ferociously it seems to be pushing its way out. Like many of you reading this careers issue, my final year and all that comes with it, is pelting me with full force: life has become a whirling chaos of job research, application deadlines, balancing essays with hunting for a dissertation topic and fervent trips to the careers advisor. Even as I’m pulled in all directions I find myself stuck, staring at a blank white screen, terrified to start a project while the voice in the back of my head hisses, ‘There’s not enough time!’ I need a little space from all of this, some peace amidst pandemonium.

So I decided to try Headspace, the multi-platform brainchild of Andy Puddicombe, a former Buddhist monk who dropped his Sports Science degree to study meditation in the Himalayas (not your average ‘gap yah’). Puddicombe’s philosophy involves the practice of doing nothing. Literally nothing, reducing stress by taking time away from everyday life. Eager for a time out from the havoc of university and life in general, I signed up to Headspace’s free trial, a 10-day course of 10-minute bursts of guided meditation.

Day One

With a few clicks, I’m in. The account comes with a shiny new profile, in case I feel like a side helping of social networking with my inner peace. Another click and Puddicombe’s voice floats from my laptop speakers, telling me to sit still on my chair, feet planted firmly on the floor and hands in my lap. Deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth. A door slams in the corridor and my eyes snap open, before I’m lulled back into the quest for quiet nothingness. My mind wanders; doing nothing is hard.

Day Two

Most of the sessions have a theme to guide the learning process. Today’s topic is being ‘at ease’ with my thoughts: letting them come and go, not ignoring them but at the same time not following them either. My mind did run away with itself quite a lot, brought back each time with a gentle reminder from Puddicombe. Did I switch the grill off? Have I finished my seminar reading for tomorrow? I have an application to finish…

Photo: Flickr / Gustavo da Cunha Pimenta

Day Four

Today it’s ‘body awareness’. Well, I’m aware that I have a body and I know what it looks like, but that isn’t enough for Headspace. Puddicombe encourages me to mentally ‘scan’ through my body, identifying tension and discomfort. I imagine a bright, buzzing, horizontal line moving across my skin, checking up on every part of my body from roots to painted toes. My shoulders drop from their favourite roosting place around my ears and and I sit a little straighter. Progress.

Day Five

Meditating, I’m now told, is like falling asleep. You only manage it when you let go of effort and stop trying, which feels oxymoronic to me. The object of the exercise is to achieve a few minutes of peace, is it not? Nevertheless, it seems I’ve got to learn not to try so hard, at least when I take a break to meditate.
I’m halfway through and each session feels similar to the last; most of the exercises are the same, which can feel pretty dull. Yet I find myself increasingly looking forward to my ten minutes of quietude each day. Especially if the person below isn’t playing terrible house music first thing in the morning (the perils of returning to halls)…

Day Seven

I left my seventh session late today, having legged it to a lecture and forgotten about it until after dinner (you’re supposed to meditate first thing in the morning). A chirpy animation kicks off the session, giving another meaning to ‘blue sky thinking’: the mind is an ever-stretching sky, with thoughts like clouds scudding across it. My sky has thoughts whizzing like demented helicopters and it takes half the session time to gently prod them away and relax a bit. After following the familiar motions of the breathing exercise, body-scanning trick and body awareness, I feel a little better and click one of the twenty-or-so tabs on my browser to start some work, my head a little clearer.

Day Nine

My mind is a pool of water, with thoughts swimming about within. Too many ripples will disturb the glassy surface, making the thoughts become blurry and indistinguishable; a storm may even develop, rendering mental clarity impossible. All of this is explained in a perky animation at the beginning of this session and runs as an intriguing theme throughout the next 10 minutes. I must sit quietly, not worry about the odd ripple disturbing my cool inner piscina, and let all sorts of things bubble up to the surface so I can see them clearly. My mind sends up my shopping list for the week. I clearly need to practise.

Day Ten

Today’s declaration that I’m ‘still at the beginning’ throws me off. Why have I spent the last ten days making sure I can drop everything and sit still for ten minutes? A cynic might scoff once Puddicombe recommends the monthly subscription available to continue practising, and the other ‘packs’ of meditative goodness that come with it that claim to address several different aspects of my life. From what I’ve learnt over the past 10 days, however, it may well be worth seeing what else he has to say.
I like his ethos; some of his points seem obvious but do need to be pointed out. As Warwick students, many of us thrive on having four places to be at once, pushing for perfection and juggling lots of projects, but to prevent burnout I’ve found it helps enormously to step back. Breathe. Let thoughts bubble up but remember you don’t need to deal with them yet. For 10 minutes, you have nothing to do – and it feels fantastic.