Where do you practice?
When we think of great places to meditate we may think of a quiet corner in our home, or maybe a place in nature … yet over the years I’ve come to realize that doctor’s office exam rooms can be exceptionally conducive to familiarizing myself with the habits of the mind, and forging new pathways.
By the time I take a seat in the exam room I have had to arrive at the conclusion that I need to see a medical professional. Even if this is for a wellness visit, there is likely some trepidation about what might be found. I’ve had to make the appointment, fill out the paperwork, navigate the maze of insurance and then make it to the appointment on time. And then I am led into the exam room and told the doctor will be “right with me”. Oh how I used to dread this time between check-in and check-up. Now, though, it has turned into a game.
As I take my seat, alone in the room, I get to notice the sounds - either of sitting on the crinkly paper on the exam table, or the squeaks of the chair next to it. If I’ve been asked to put on a gown, I can watch the thoughts arise, “Did she say opening in the front or the back?” and notice how important it feels to get this right. Here is a wonderful opportunity to smile, asking myself, “And would it be a big a deal if you put it on the wrong way?” And then come thoughts of how silly I must look in that gown, with another chance to laugh at the mind’s self-centeredness. And then the thought, “What if the fire alarm went off right now and I had to walk out into the street like this?” arises and I get to see the humor in the mind’s obsession with low probability events.
So, with a smile, I sit…. Soon there may be the desire to be entertained… an urge to reach for the phone or a book, an inclination to read every poster on the wall. Here is an opportunity to notice this desire and sit back and play with letting the present moment be enough.
A few peaceful breaths later, just as I feel like I’m getting the hang of it, the thought arises, “Why is she taking so long?” which opens the door to cynicism and even indignity. Here is a chance to notice the tendency to assume the negative and wonder if it isn’t also possible that the doctor is taking the time needed to answer the questions of the patient before me. As I open to this possibility, I notice a glimmer of gratitude arising for the caring of people who have chosen the healing profession.
More peaceful breaths and the mind hurls a new thought at me, “What if it’s [fill in the blank]?! My cousin’s husband had similar symptoms and it turned out to be [fill in the blank]”. Here is a chance to hold myself with great compassion, noticing the fear that’s present, letting it be there, opening to it… and seeing how the turning toward it and letting it be seen shifts it and it loses its grip.
And here is also a chance to feel compassion for all people who wait in exam rooms with fear, and to send all of them a wish for peace and ease, good medical care and good health.
And so it goes, thoughts, emotions, sensations arising, offering opportunities for compassion, self-compassion, awareness, and openness.
And by the time the doctor walks in and apologizes for the wait, I’m almost sorry this time of exploration and self-care is up.
The benefits of this time spent in “exam room meditation” extend to the time with the doctor, as I am better resourced to express my concerns and needs and to hear what she has to offer.
Wishing you and everyone good health and good care,
Your CMP family
*Hoping that you will join us this week in person, by conference call or by Zoom, or virtually via the many recorded meditations on the website. Click here to see our full schedule.
