Most people in our digital age—if they meditate at all—do it intermittently: ten, fifteen, maybe twenty minutes at a time. To be completely honest, it’s better than nothing; it may turn the stress volume down a bit, but it barely skims the surface. Underneath sits the real load: the stresses of daily life, a brain and body on sensory overload, and a backlog of stagnant, often conflicted, highly charged emotion.

Because most people were never taught how to work effectively with their emotions, they’re not digesting their lived experience or their responses to it. The backlog accumulates in the body.

It pains me to witness the damage being done. I see it and I feel it, and I do my best to articulate what I’m sensing in the bodies and minds of the people I work with. Receptivity varies. Some recognize the harmful effects; others lack awareness. Then there’s willingness. Some dabble—do one or a few sessions and disappear; some aren’t receptive at all. And then there’s the small percentage who follow through, taking the steps necessary to heal their bodies and deep emotional wounds, and truly transform themselves.

In my early twenties, when I was first drawn to meditation, I would sit cross-legged on the floor with my back against the wall for support and often sit for an hour or two at a time, yet I was inconsistent. I was drawn back to meditation in my mid-twenties when I found myself reenacting the traumas of my childhood and adolescence in my attempts to form intimate relationships.

Training first with a traditional Native American doctor (medicine man) and years later with a master from China in the internal martial arts—Xin Yi Quan, Baguazhang, Tai Chi, and Chi Gong—gave me an added advantage. I was keenly aware that those before me attained mastery through hours of intensive daily practice. Inspired by their example, my own intensive daily practice was driven by a simple desire to attain ever higher levels of mastery.

What Our Bodies Are Holding On To

Most people carry a lot—past traumas, losses, hardships, years of undigested emotion—and then face daily stresses that keep evoking more. With work pressures, relationship strain, old wounds, and the added input of digital feeds, the load keeps growing. Over time it condenses into a heavy, congestive residue that saturates the body’s organs, tissues, and cells. Saturated with this stagnant buildup of stress, undigested emotion, and physical toxins, the body simply doesn’t function as well.

As I mentioned, most people are not doing any form of consistent meditation practice, and even if they do, it’s usually no longer than twenty minutes. Much of what they’re doing—while it may help calm them by relieving some of the outermost layers of tension—doesn’t facilitate the deep-level processing of the stresses and emotions they’re carrying in their bodies.

As I work with people, I can’t help but see and feel what they’re carrying: work-related stress, heartache, and the emotions that arise in response to other relational difficulties. I have them bring the situation, concern, or person to the forefront of awareness and notice what they’re feeling in their bodies—and where those feelings live. Then I have them breathe softly and deeply, fully immersing their awareness in the depths of any feelings and bodily sensations that arise. We stay with these feelings and sensations, following them as they move through their progression. In many instances the sensations intensify at first; they often expand or shift into other parts of the body, and then gradually become more diffuse.

Beginning a practice of meditation can be a real stretch for many people. Ten, fifteen, or twenty minutes may be all one can do at first, yet if you want results, it’s important to increase the duration.

As I work with people, I tell them plainly: realistically, it’s going to take at least an hour of consistent daily practice just to keep up with the various challenges you’re facing, along with the stress generated by what you’re going through and your emotional response to it all. In other words, you need, at minimum, an hour a day to digest your lived experiences and your emotional responses.

And to be completely honest, even that’s not always enough—especially for those of us contending with past and present trauma, living through chronically stressful realities, or struggling with attachment issues and other deep hurts. This is why we need to make consistent use of the most effective therapeutic modalities. For instance, I do sensory-deprivation flotation sessions and deep-tissue massage. I’ve worked with gifted healers whenever the opportunity presented itself. I have also gone through dozens of vision quests—a traditional Native American practice of fasting alone in the mountains for four days and nights without food or water.

Through the Abyss: From Darkness to Light

Having suffered a great deal of childhood and adolescent trauma, I’ve struggled with attachment issues, and that has, at times, played out in my relationships. In the work I do to facilitate healing, I invest deeply in the people I work with because I genuinely care and want to see them heal and realize their true potential. And like everyone else, I have to make a living. Yet it can be difficult when I’m dealing with inconsistency—flakiness, sudden unexplained disappearances (ghosting mid-process), and, at times, volatility in people still carrying trauma—and, yes, the occasional asshole.

Before learning to work effectively with my emotional responses—and when I wasn’t practicing consistently or taking adequate time to practice—the heaviness and pain remained trapped in my body. For significant periods of time I was caught in a tangle of grief, sadness, hurt, confusion, and other convoluted emotions and thoughts that could be incapacitating. The drama kept perpetuating itself, the suffering dragged out much longer, and that tangle colored my interactions and how I related to other people and the world around me.

For the longest time I felt as though I were flailing in the dark, yet intuitively I realized I needed to become more consistent in my practice—and to extend the time I spent practicing. During some of the most difficult times, I would sit in practice; sometimes I would lie on my side, curled up; other times I would walk for hours—breathing from the depths of the distressing or heavy emotions I was feeling and any bodily sensations that arose.

As I continued to practice, there were many instances when a situation left me stressed out or stirred a range of unpleasant emotions, and I was able to work through it in a matter of minutes. Then there were times when my deepest vulnerabilities were triggered—when a relationship was ending, when I was getting crazy-making, ambiguous signals, or when I was already on the edge and had to deal with erratic, inconsistent behavior from people not willing to do the work. Those periods brought a whole range of painful—and at times excruciating—emotions.

Whenever I found myself confronted with these issues, I would begin my practice by bringing the issue, situation, or person to the forefront of my awareness. I would then notice what I was feeling in response and where those feelings were held within my body. I’d breathe softly and deeply, fully immersing my awareness in the depths of any feelings or sensations that arose. It would often take me a few hours to cycle through the heaviness, grief, and other distressing emotions; yet as I continued to practice, I could feel my body and mind’s innate healing intelligence activating.

By the third hour, I could feel the pain, heaviness, and other convoluted feelings and thoughts gradually dissolving. I not only felt considerably lighter; I was also experiencing a whole range of pleasurable feelings and sensations, along with a greater sense of connection to my authentic core and to a higher power. I was gaining perspective on the person or people involved and the dynamics of the situation. I could see more options, and in many instances I would come up with more creative, workable solutions. Unhealthy attachments to people, situations, and outcomes began to dissolve.

Even when faced with difficult or challenging people and situations, I find it much easier to adapt when appropriate—and, if necessary, let go and walk away. When I do step back and let go, it creates a vacuum; often other people and opportunities appear.

During the times when I’ve been confronted with the more difficult issues—situations that trigger my deepest vulnerabilities—I find that when I practice consistently for extended periods, I can cycle through whatever I’m facing, and all the emotions that arise, at a greatly accelerated pace. Rather than remaining strung out or incapacitated, I become increasingly resilient. I’m able to digest my lived experiences and emotional responses, accept what cannot be changed, let go when necessary, bounce back, and adapt accordingly.

Resistance to Long Periods of Sitting Meditation

Sitting for long periods of meditation isn’t feasible for everyone, especially when life circumstances aren’t conducive—when you’re already working long hours, commuting, working and going to school, or caring for young children or elderly parents. Yet many of us have more available time than we realize—or are willing to admit. Consider how much time you spend watching Netflix or scrolling through Instagram, TikTok, and other feeds. Devoting at least a good portion—if not all—of that time to meditation is obviously a much healthier choice.

The problem for many of us is that the demands placed upon us, coupled with excessive use of our devices, have rewired our brains in ways that are not conducive to intensive practice. Developing a consistent practice will require an investment of time and real commitment on your part—and as you do, you’re literally rewiring your attentional circuitry.

Like most people living on planet Earth at this time in history, I’m affected by the challenges of modern-day life and the not-so-healthy aspects of digital technology. And I admit, there have been many times when I wasn’t consistent in my own practice. Looking back, I sometimes feel a sense of regret, especially as I reflect on the wasted time and the fact that I suffered far longer than necessary from some of the traumas and crazy-making relational drama I endured. Had I been consistent in my practice—and done so for the amount of time needed to heal—I could have moved through it all at a much more accelerated pace. In those days, I had no guidance; it was up to me to find my own way. Yet I’ve applied the lessons I’ve learned as I go forward in life.

Calm, Neutral, Then Deeper Still

Over time, as I continued to practice and make consistent use of the most effective therapeutic interventions, the old traumas and attachment wounds began to heal. Having digested so much of the accumulated emotional residue, I wasn’t hauling the same backlog of grief, sadness, and other distressing emotions. I wasn’t in pain so much of the time; I felt lighter. When I sat down to practice, I often found myself in a calm, neutral space. And yet I could still sense that much of what I was carrying remained embedded in the body’s organs and tissues. So I began to explore more directly—bringing my awareness into specific organs and parts of the body.

There were many times when I focused my awareness within the heart, abdomen, throat, pelvis, and even the brain itself. With soft, steady breath and sustained attention, deeper layers surfaced—emotions, memories, and thought processes, many of which had long operated outside of conscious awareness. I stayed with them, breathing through their progression, and gradually they came into conscious awareness. What had been dense was transformed and integrated as a newly emerged, healthy part of me.

Working With What Life Gives You

The basic premise of the system of practices I developed is to work with whatever life gives you. In March of 2020, I had just returned to the United States from Sri Lanka as the country—and much of the world—went into lockdown. I suddenly had all this additional time on my hands and wasn’t sure what to do with myself. Rather than waste hours scrolling through feeds and binging on documentaries, I committed to at least three hours of intensive daily meditation.

During those lengthy meditations, I encountered a lot of internal resistance that, at times, made it difficult to continue. I felt restless and antsy, and kept opening my eyes to see how much time had passed. Parts of my back were tensing up and were kind of painful. Rather than giving up, I trained myself to acknowledge any feelings and bodily sensations and then go even deeper into them. I would breathe with my awareness fully immersed in the tension—and at times the pain—in my back, and in the discomfort that comes from being completely present in my body with all its feelings and sensations for such an extended period. The tightness would gradually soften, and the pain would ease; the almost unbearable sense of being completely still with myself would abate. As I remained present with the full range of feelings and bodily sensations, I could feel myself crossing over multiple thresholds into deeper levels of awareness.

As I continued to practice, emotions and thought processes that had been operating from my subconscious began to surface—material I’d been oblivious to. I started to recognize the underlying cognitive and emotional forces that had been driving the dysfunctional patterns I had enacted in relationships and other interactions. The more I kept diving into the internal resistance, the more I could feel myself entering progressively deeper, more powerful, and more enjoyable states of meditation. I could also feel the innate healing intelligence within me activating, along with a comforting presence flowing from within.

You too will very likely encounter resistance as you extend your own meditation practice—restlessness, boredom, agitation, an incessant need to open your eyes to check how much time has passed. Acknowledge what you’re feeling in these moments and, to the best of your ability, breathe softly and deeply as you fully immerse your awareness in the depths of any feelings or bodily sensations that arise. As you do, you will be working your way down through multiple thresholds of consciousness.

The Discipline Behind Real Transformation

Many people today think they’re set with their daily twenty-minute meditation session, yet most have never had real exposure to the ancient lineages where meditation has been practiced for thousands of years. In every tradition I’m familiar with, those who develop real depth put in hours of intensive daily practice.

In the internal martial arts, especially Xin Yi Quan and Baguazhang, which are rooted in Taoism, serious practitioners often train two to six hours a day. Training usually begins with Chi Gong to build internal power, then moves into extensive practice of the forms: circle-walking in Bagua; standing postures in Xin Yi Quan such as San Ti and Squatting Monkey; the five-element fists, the twelve animal forms, and line training; plus partner drills and fighting applications, with Chi Gong woven through every layer.

In Buddhism, daily practice time varies by tradition and season. In Zen (Sōtō and Rinzai), ordinary days include three to four hours of seated meditation, while intensive sesshin run ten to fourteen hours. In the Tibetan traditions, daily life involves chanting, study, and debate with meditation woven in, and formal retreats rise to twelve to sixteen hours of practice. In Theravāda, Burmese-style intensive retreats alternate sitting and walking from early morning into the night, often totaling fourteen to sixteen hours.

In the classical texts and oral lineages, samādhi isn’t just a meditative calm; it’s a profoundly absorbed state in which ordinary physiological rhythms slow dramatically and awareness becomes fully unified. Ancient and modern sources speak of yogis remaining in deep absorption for hours, days, weeks, months or even longer.

If you truly want to experience the power of meditation and to heal and transform yourself, I encourage you to stay open and be willing to explore various practices—such as those taught in Buddhist or Hindu-Vedic traditions—as well as the system of meditation I’ve developed and have been teaching for over three decades.

Ready to extend your meditation and go deeper? I can help you build a daily practice you’ll actually do—and show you how to work with the resistance when it arises. Call (332) 333-5155 or visit benoofana.com / teachmetomeditate.com to learn more or schedule a session.

©Copyright 2025 Ben Oofana. All Rights Reserved.