I’ve meditated for five minutes a day, every day, for a week. That’s a total of thirty-five minutes of mindful breathing. Woohoo!

Maybe I should be expressing my pride in this accomplishment in a more restrained fashion, one more befitting the quiet, contemplative nature of the process. But if I’ve learned anything from dipping my toe in the waters of mindfulness, it’s that there is no right or wrong way to go about it.

On some days I felt jumpy and impatient. My mind wanted to review an earlier conversation or plan tomorrow’s dinner instead of attending to my inhalations and exhalations. On other days I felt tired and heavy-lidded. I’d like to say I also had Goldilocks days when it felt “just right,” but that didn’t happen.

Research has shown that regular meditation practice leads to changes in the brain structures associated with self-control, attention, and self-awareness. I’m all for giving my concentration and willpower a boost, so I plan to keep meditating, adding a few minutes to each practice every week, and hope that over time, I’ll improve my mindfulness skills. I’m going to have to wait before I decide whether it’s beneficial for me.

I’m still meditating five minutes a day. I can’t say I’ve reached a state of enlightenment yet, or even of greater calm, but I have made a few more observations.

1)    On the third day, a funny thing happened on the way to meditating. I realized I was looking forward to it! Rather than feeling irritated about having to fit it in, I was actually pleased for the brief respite in the middle of my hectic day.

2)    Self-evaluative thoughts still creep in. On a day when sitting down to concentrate on my breath seemed like more of an obligation than a relaxing break, I stole a peek at my watch to see how much longer I had to go. I immediately thought,  “You blew it! You’re not supposed to look at your watch.”

3)    I notice sensations more acutely. Concentrating too hard on breathing made me feel short of breath. An urge to scratch a distracting itch over my right eyebrow faded after I resisted giving into it for ten or twenty seconds; then the itch moved to my right eyelid.

4)    It’s easier to concentrate when there are fewer external distractions—say, a husband eating dessert in the next room. My heightened sensory awareness amplified the clink of his spoon against the bowl to deafening decibels.  And why haven’t I ever noticed how loudly he slurps his ice cream?

I’ll be wrapping up my introductory week of meditation in my next post.