by Meredith Siegel Cohen, Creator, Single and Striking Out
I dread the ‘ick.’
This is a term I have coined for that sick, aching feeling that takes over when we are hit with something upsetting or anxiety-producing. It sets up camp throughout the body and causes weepiness, lack of focus, nausea, increased heart rate, sleeplessness, and a general feeling of blech.
Sitting with the Ick
We can’t control it. Trust me, I have tried my darndest to out-shop it, out-eat it, out-walk it, out-scroll it—nothing works except sitting with it—and allowing it to pass through.
The ick and I are well-acquainted. The length of time it stays is indeterminate. Sometimes it lasts for a day and sometimes, like during my divorce, it took up residence for four seasons.
I am currently experiencing the ick once again. It started two weeks ago, when I saw something on social media that wasn’t meant for my eyes.
It ruptured a dam I had so painstakingly erected, delaying a type of grief, and even stirred a little envy. The floods came fast and furious. Intellectually I am well aware that my reaction makes no sense. But the heart and head rarely play nicely together.
So here we are.
In an effort to embrace a new solo activity, and calm this current state of ick, I decided to try guided meditation. After all, how bad could an hour of going inward be? Particularly on a weekend morning, when I am typically journaling and going inward anyway.
A Powerful Practice
What I got was so much better than ‘how bad could it be.’
I’d venture to say it was transformative.
The instructor and the hour I spent with her provided me with a peace that felt grounding, a mind shift that was calming, and a reduction of the ick, which was surprising.
She had created a spa-like oasis, beginning with a warm, musky fragrance that greeted me at the door and instilled a sense of tranquility. Decorative objects, including Buddhas, plants, and books, all placed with intention, contributed to a feeling of Zen. A sense of being in caring, knowing hands.
She was a young woman, but definitely had a mature, healing presence. She smiled, and I could see that she possessed a kind demeanor. Prior to our session, she was quiet—in ‘work mode.’ While waiting for the class to begin, I chatted with another participant. A solo woman in mid-life. Shocker (said sarcastically).
It was easy to be there on my own. There were no awkward feelings, and nothing to divert my attention.
The session began in a room filled with only natural light, soft spa music, and an instruction to try to stay as present as possible. When we felt our minds wander, as they invariably would, gently bring them back to the present.
As she led us through a grounding exercise, breathwork, and onto our thoughts, I felt a stillness in me that hadn’t been there just minutes before. She told us to envision a halo. When we breathed in, the halo lit up. When we breathed out, the light transferred to our hearts.
I envisioned mine to be this open circle bulb, radiating brightly in neon yellow. It was pulsing with life and strength, suggestive that so much is yet to come.
We were encouraged to take all of our anxiety, worries, concerns, hurts, and fears and send them to the halo—to a higher power. No problem! I sent up people, feelings, worries – hey, whoever is up there, take it all!! But jokes aside, as I envisioned everything negative swirling upward, I felt myself relax into my thoughts. I was still, and I was able to surrender to the present moment. Rarely have I ever been able to quiet my brain enough to do that.
Of course, at points my mind wandered, but I pictured a clean, empty room with light wood floors and white walls. Just the floor and walls. When random or unwelcome thoughts entered, I swept the floor clean of them. It worked, as I was able to come back to her voice with its gentle instruction to breathe in love and compassion, and breathe out worry and fear.
The time moved quickly, and before I knew it, we were placing our hands over our hearts, saying ‘namaste,’ and thanking her. I found it curious to see, as I opened my eyes, that she was wiping away tears. She said that she was very moved by the session, as she felt the ‘heaviness’ of the energy coming to her from us. I wonder if my ick was on the prowl.
I walked back to my car accompanied by a serenity that I did not know an hour ago. The ache was diminished, my appetite was back (another shocker), and I felt lighter. Like something really did absorb my worry and angst.
Do It Alone
As I reflect upon this experience, I realize that the inner peace lingers still. The ache remains reduced, and my thoughts are tame.
Whoa.
There is always something new to learn, always an experience through which we can grow. Sometimes, though, without a partner, a built-in play pal to try new things, entering new doors can be daunting.
Walk through them anyway.
Do it alone.
Bring the ick along if you have to.
Taking bold steps out often leads to powerful steps inward.
Bold doesn’t always mean big. Sometimes, it’s as simple as sitting quietly among others, through a guided meditation, embracing the calm we so desperately need.
I’m curious, does the ick visit you too? When it does, how do you care for yourself? I’d love to know.
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