Meditation: My Experience Falling Into a (Figurative) Cauldron of Molten Metal
In early 2018, I started working with two amazing life coaches — brothers Ilan and Guy Ferdman at Satori Prime. One of the first things they taught me is the importance of meditation. During my years as a competitive volleyball player, I practiced visualization. But meditation was a new concept.
To be honest, I thought meditation was gimmicky. I didn’t want to do it. I remember thinking, “How is sitting on the ground with my legs crossed, doing nothing, going to improve my life?” I was severely depressed at the time. I felt terrible and wanted a quick solution to my mental anguish. The macho side of me thought, “You’re a man. Just kick depression in the balls!” It turns out that depression doesn’t have balls and I didn’t have a figurative foot to kick the nonexistent balls with. To say I was naive about not only meditation but how the mind and body interact with each other is a massive understatement.
After some coaxing from my coaches, I decided to give meditation a shot. I woke up early one morning (probably around 6 am), walked into my backyard, and sat down by my pool. It was a bone-chilling 48–50 degrees (I live in Southern California — anything below 60 degrees causes a panic). They didn’t give me any specific instructions. They just told me to meditate.
I crossed my legs, put my arms in the air and started saying “om.” After about 2.5 seconds, I felt like an idiot and put my arms down and turned off the “om” chant. Instead, I put my hands in my lap, closed my eyes, and tried to clear my mind. Meditation, I thought, meant having an effortless, blissful journey into a mental void and, if you’re lucky, levitating a few inches off the ground.
For several minutes, I forced myself to have a clear mind — no thoughts. It wasn’t working. Every time I tried to clear my mind, a deluge of random thoughts poured into my consciousness. The harder I pushed the thoughts away, the harder they pushed back. My mind screamed at me, “How dare you try to undo the chaos I’ve worked so hard to cultivate over the past 25 years!” Realizing I wasn’t as tough as I thought I was, I gave up, ate breakfast, took a shower, and went to work.
Later that day I told Ilan and Guy that meditation wasn’t working. Their response was something like, “Don’t beat yourself up. You’re going to have random thoughts when you meditate. That’s ok. Let the mind do whatever it needs to do. Don’t fight it. Don’t push back. This is a new experience and it’s making your ego uncomfortable.”
Molten Metal
I reluctantly decided to give it another shot. The next morning I woke up early again and sat by the pool. I crossed my legs, put my hands in my lap, and closed my eyes. Almost immediately a plethora of random thoughts started pelting me from every direction. My mind was throwing a tantrum of negativity and randomness:
- You’re an idiot!
- You’re ugly!
- If you jump out of an airplane, what’s the best fishing lure to tie?
- You should use a different deodorant.
- Everyone hates you!
- Meditation is pointless.
- The world would be better off if you were dead.
- What’s better, a Big Mac or a Whopper?
Although the experience was unsettling, bizarre, and uncomfortable, it was also amazing to watch so much chaos happening inside my head. The best way to describe my mind during the first three weeks of meditation is to watch this video of the T1000 death scene from the movie Terminator 2: Judgment Day:
After three weeks, I started getting used to the chaos. But after week three something interesting happened. For the first 5–10 minutes of my meditation, I would swim around in the molten metal. But then a strange calm would wash over my consciousness. The endless stream of negativity and randomness would go away. I was left with a surprisingly clear mind.
This went on for several days. And then the unthinkable happened. I sat down to meditate. I crossed my legs, put my hands in my lap, closed my eyes, and then … nothing. Absolutely nothing. My mind was empty. No random thoughts. No good thoughts. No negative thoughts. Just an empty void. I felt like I was floating in space.
I figured the T1000 was late — I was confident he’d make his grand entrance at any moment. Seconds ticked by. And then minutes. Still nothing. I didn’t have a single thought for 15 minutes. I wasn’t trying to not have any thoughts. I just didn’t have any! It was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. To someone that lives in their head, and also suffers from depression, the feeling of not having any thoughts is indescribable.
The meditation bliss lasted for several days. Eventually, the T1000 showed up again. But the experience was different. I knew what to do. Instead of taking weeks to clear my mind, it took hours. Today, depending on the circumstances, I might only need a few minutes.
I try to meditate every day. Sometimes I do a quick meditation that only lasts for a few seconds. Other times I spend 30+ minutes in a quiet place. I meditate as long as I need to meditate. When my mind and body tell me I’m good to go, I stop. With that said, there are lots of meditation apps and programs that use timed meditation sessions. The great thing about meditation is that there isn’t really a “right” way to do it. What works for me might not work for you, and vice versa.
Out Past The Breakers
David Waldas, another incredible coach I work with, teaches a concept he calls “Out Past the Breakers.” The idea is pretty simple. If you’re on the beach and you look at the ocean, especially on a day with big waves, getting past the breakers can be daunting. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, watch the movie Cast Away (2000). Once you get past the breakers, however, everything calms down. There might be an occasional swell to deal with, but the chaos is behind you.
It’s entirely possible that your experience with meditation will be different than mine. However, if you start meditating and the T1000 shows up, don’t run away. Embrace the chaos — fully experience all of the sensations that will start raining down on you. Learn to enjoy swimming in the molten metal. It will be uncomfortable. You’ll cry. You’ll laugh. And you might even try to kick the T1000 in the balls (which would hurt because he’s made of metal). Just remember that the calm and peace you’re looking for is out past the breakers. It can be hard to see, but it’s there. It might take days or weeks to get there. But when you do, you won’t regret the journey.
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