Artist Morning: Review

The Magic that Happens When You Mix Writing and Meditation

Modified version of the original post, created for Culturally Arts' blog.

From Artist Morning.

About a month or two into the pandemic I had a lot of difficulty falling asleep. Whenever I told anyone about it, the first thing they asked me was, "Are you stressed?" I'd gotten that question a lot in my life—stress causes acne; are you stressed? Stress causes head and jaw pain; are you stressed? My answer was pretty much always, yes, but at this point, for the first time in several years, it was, no. I wasn't a student anymore. I was back at my parents' house. My summer job's start date had been pushed back a few months due to COVID-19, so I wasn't working. For the first time in way too long, I got to write, to read, to just exist. And I felt really blessed.

I tried a lot of things to fall asleep: calming music, staying off my phone before bed (even though it had never been an issue before), watching relaxing videos. And then I tried meditation. And, boy, did it suck.

Well, at first.

I'd tried meditation a few years prior to help me deal with a difficult situation. I was seventeen and didn't do any research on it, so I ended up just sitting with my eyes closed trying to stop my mind from wandering, and it didn't work. This time, I looked up some meditation sessions online. It took longer than I would have liked to find one that had, 1. a calming voice, 2. no rain sounds, and (if you believe it) 3. no ads, and when I finally found one, I was so uncomfortable I had to stop; it felt like my body was lying on several conveyor belts each going in a different direction and pulling my different body parts along with it.

MyLife app from Google Play.

Eventually I got the hang of it. I got a free subscription to MyLife, a meditation and wellness app, through my university, and fell in love with it. I experimented with different types of meditations and learned that meditation is individualistic: not every type of meditation will work for every person.

Then my cousin told me about Artist Morning.

Artist Morning is a free (I'm going to say it again, free) meditation x writing session hosted on Wednesday and Friday mornings via Zoom. What could be better than the combination of meditation and writing, two of the most spiritually authentic practices I have found? As it turns out, not a whole lot!

My experience with Artist Morning was amazing, and it started before the session; I had reached out to the host and creator, Darius, to make sure it would be okay for me to write about his program. His biggest and only concern was ensuring that this session remained a safe space for everyone—people share personal and often painful stories about themselves and he wanted nothing to jeopardize that. His concern touched my heart. With the stigma of mental health slowly being broken down and people being encouraged more and more to share how they feel, with all the terrible things that occurred in 2020 and that have been leaking into 2021, and with us all having been separated from people we love for a year now, safe spaces are vital. If Darius wants to emphasize that, above all, then this session is going to be incredible, I thought. And I was right.

For me, the worst part of Zoom events is the silence; unlike in-person events, one participant has to lead the entire discussion, without any smaller conversations, and that leaves a lot of people awkwardly staring at the screen, afraid to speak. Artist Morning was nothing like that. From the very start, this place was warm and welcoming. Darius greeted people individually as they trickled in and made jokes. He spoke in a calm, soothing voice (which, if you remember, was one of my three necessities). He encouraged us to chat with each other about where we are; there were 40 people in attendance from all over North America, and even someone from Central America.

He then moved onto explain what we could expect from the session, which I as a newcomer greatly appreciated. The meditation session would be 15 minutes long and we could leave our cameras on or off. He warned us that sometimes these sessions feel otherworldly and trigger a lot of emotions, while other times we struggle to reach that plane.

And this is okay; whatever you experience, whatever you feel, whatever happens to you, is valid and accepted.

Two participants first led us through stretches, focusing on the shoulders. I shy away from physical activity, especially yoga—I'm not good at it and usually get really concerned that I'm doing it wrong and people are judging me, but I did not feel at all self conscious here, in my pajamas, in my bed, surrounded by kind people.

Soothing Relaxation, from Shemazing.

The meditation was pre-recorded with some calming music in the background (I love that type of mood music, by the way—it was something akin to Peder B. Helland's Soothing Relaxation channel, with soft crescendos and simple melodies). We focused on self-love, affirmations, and breathing out everything that doesn't serve you. Meditation is so individualistic, but oddly enough, this session was full of my absolute favourite themes of meditation: we placed our hands on our hearts and stomachs to check in on them, and I got a bit teary-eyed since I spend a lot of time telling my heart to be quiet. We were also reminded of our connection to the Earth; as we relaxed from the top of our heads down, we didn't stop at our toes, but kept going, far down into the ground. This theme resonates deeply with me because this past year I have strengthened my relationship with the soil from which we came, and to which we will all eventually return.

Following the meditation, we all journaled individually for 15 minutes. I have kept a diary since I was seven, so this was a welcomed task. Having just meditated and been reminded of my heart, I wrote about how I categorize my "self", my "I", my "me" as my mind/head. I talked about how I would describe my heart and my soul, and wondered about what others would consider their "self".

When we regrouped we participated in what they called "secret eye-gazing," wherein you find someone on screen who speaks to you and just look at them. We all take deep breaths together and then you send out a compliment to your secret person, from your heart to theirs. I didn't feel a specific compliment land in me, but I did feel my arms start to tingle, which was interesting!

The session ended with a break-out room. We had five minutes to discuss with one to three other people, "Where were you exactly a year ago?" For me, it was the last pre-COVID day. I was in school, in my second-last day of in-person undergrad, without knowing it. The school would be closed on Friday; I would pack up my room and move back in with my parents on Saturday; I would finish the rest of my undergraduate degree online and graduate via Zoom in June.

Following the session was a 15-minute lounge, for anyone who wanted to join and share whatever they needed to say. Participants shared what the meditation session meant to them and how important it was at this particular time in their life. I even shared the conveyor belt story, as the conversation had shifted toward how the individualism of meditation means it isn't always pleasant.

This whole experience was very love-based: the love that Darius showed for his participants through his concern over their safe space; the love that he asked us to show ourselves and our hearts during our meditation; the love that participants showed each other through supportive comments in the chat. My personal favourite was what I called "twinkly fingers;" I've spent many Zoom open mic nights golf-clapping or clapping on mute, but here we showed love by fluttering our fingers at the camera, as if we were shaking fairy dust onto each other.

I'm looking forward to the next session, when I will be able to fully enjoy the meditation without my mind focusing on remembering everything so that I could write about it afterward.

Art is subjective. Meditation is individualistic. Combined, they create either an experience perfectly tailored to you, or one that completely misses the mark. So try a bunch of different types until you find one that sits with you. And if you're a creative, try this one.