Social Meditation

I’m a self-proclaimed life learner.  I love workshops, retreats, classes, and certification programs.  I realized lately that my plate is full with all these programs, and that it’s time to “close a few browser windows” and wrap up a few projects.  It’s hard for me to resist though.  Online learning has never been easier.

One of my favorite trainings that I’m currently enrolled in is Social Meditation. Created by dharma teacher Ken Folk, social meditation is when two or more people take turns reporting their experience in real time.  What happens in these sessions is that the space for mind wandering is reduced. This practice brings the benefits of traditional silent meditation in a social way.  This practice can be used in both an informal and a formal meditation and can be helpful for beginner meditators.   

It’s hard to know what is happening beyond my thinking mind.  I spend so much time thinking from the neck up sometimes I don’t even know what I feel, either.  In mediation, I can pause and notice my mind state: positive, negative, or natural; or my physical state: tense, spacious, or relaxed.  When I am by myself, my mind wanders.  When I am in a group of social meditators, my mind stays focused and on task.  It’s really cool. 

I was introduced to this practice last year in my mentor group for my Mindfulness Meditation Teacher program.  Our mentor broke us up into small groups on Zoom for five minutes, three of us took turns and shared what we either felt or thought. 

The instructions were simple.   We were asked to fill in the blank: “There is ______”   When it was my turn, I noticed a car passing by outside.  I said:  “there is sound.”   My next turn,  I noticed that I was thinking about dinner so I said, “There is planning.”  

“There is hunger.” 

“There is peace.” 

“there is calm.”

“There is smiling.”

“There is warmth.”

It was a nice practice.   In December, I received an email with an invitation to an upcoming training to learn how to facilitate social meditation.  I signed up.

My first training session seemed quite simple. It felt similar to my reflection of my first yoga class in 1996.  I took a class a studio below the Montgomery Street BART station in San Francisco.  The teacher looked like Jerry Garcia, complete with long grey hair, a shaggy beard, and a round belly.  It was an all-levels Hatha class.  We breathed.  We stretched.  We lay down for Shavasana.  I walked out wondering what all the yoga hype was about?  Yoga seemed easy.

Twenty-five years later, I know that the more I practice, the more reverence I have for the depth and difficulties of the practice.  Lessons learned on the mat have served me in my daily life.  Yoga has cultivated a relationship between my mind and body.  It taught me patience and presence.  I call yoga many things, but “easy” is not one of them.

Social meditation is similar.  I thought after the first class it was straightforward.  After a couple sessions, I realized that this practice was deeper than my initial thoughts.  

I had an insight after being in a group with two other meditators.  Every time one of my colleagues spoke, he named pain.  “There is heat.”  “There is throbbing.”  “There is discomfort.”  I felt horrible for him and I wanted to help.  I wished that I could push pause on the exercises and check in with him, “Are you OK?  What can I do to help you?”  Of course, that was not possible.  I simply responded:  “There is concern” and “There is wondering.”

We regrouped as a whole after our practice and debriefed the experience on Zoom.  I unmuted myself and shared my feeling of helplessness.  I admitted that I am a helper and it was hard to sit and listen to someone in pain.  I wanted to DO something.  And there was nothing to do.  

My teacher nodded.  He said I was experiencing the boundary between self and other.  It’s a tough one.  I often blur the line.   My nature is to focus on others even in a situation that I can’t do anything.  I risk losing my sense of self. 

It was definitely an “a-ha” moment.   I resolved to be more mindful in staying in my lane.  I know from experience that I am in charge of only myself.   I sit with people in pain, but it’s not mine.  They will work it out.  I can have compassion for them, which I do.  But it doesn’t serve me to lose myself in them.  

My initial perception of social meditation changed in a few weeks. I realize now, the practice like yoga has a depth that will reveal itself.  I can’t wait for more!  (To learn more about social meditation, click here.)