I am off on a Tuesday and see that the Baltimore Shambhala Center offers an introduction to meditation on Tuesdays at Seven. Luckily this event is free to the public. I am somewhat relieved because if it wasn’t free I would probably spend an hour and a half wondering if the price of meditating was worth learning to meditate. (Looking back, I think it is.)

This is also convenient because I don’t have to worry about fighting rush hour traffic to get a non-existent bike into the middle of Baltimore city. To make things better, I am bringing my friend Natalie who is more experienced in the Shambhala tradition than I am. She has been to one class.  All the cards seem to align.

We arrived and are greeted by friendly faces, a plethora of teas, and delicious snacks. Fellow tea drinkers introduce themselves, and I assume they are instructors, but after talking for a few minutes I find that they are just here for the class. I am a jaded woman. Whenever I meet friendly people, I assume they are professionals of some sort. I am still scared by the old lady at work that told me I was beautiful, and then tried to sell me Mary Kay products. This community is not here to sell me anything, but they have already sold me.

“Didn’t you know the class was cancelled?” I overhear someone talking to Natalie. My jaw drops and the tea I am about to swallow dribbles down my face. This meditation class was going to solve my life’s problems. It can’t be cancelled. “It is only cancelled for you Natalie. You are not allowed to go.” He laughs and my heart starts beating again. This is a friend of Natalie’s and he was telling a joke.  I reattempt to sip my tea. Whew.

We then meet our instructor Joseph Mauricio and a guided into a small room with blue cushions. We go around introducing ourselves. I am in the presence of a college teacher, an architect, a mother of four, an accountant named Natalie, and a strange girl named Makenna.  Joseph has been practicing for many years. He claims to have disorder called “being from New York” and meditation reminds him to be good.

I learn that Shambhala is a Buddhist tradition based on the belief that humans are naturally good, but society teaches us otherwise. Through meditation and practice however, we can access the compassion that we are born with and radiate this into our lives and communities. I then decide that I want to take my landlord to a mediation class and see if we can access her inner goodness.

Shambhala was founded by Tibetan meditation master, Chogyam Trungpa and now run my his son, Sakyong Mipham. Not only does he run Shambhala, but he runs marathons. Sakyong found that he could apply the principles of meditation to his exercise practice. A lightbulb explodes over my head and shatters. No one notices. When you are running you must focus on your breathing and avoid the debbie downer within you, just like meditation. I envision myself winning marathons in the near future.

Although I had discovered running years ago, I never gave much thought to the mental aspect of the sport. Sitting still was a foreign concept I never mastered. This is my chance. Joseph tells us how to align our spines, something I have not done since eighth grade. I hear my vertebra crack in confusion as I lift my body into the air.

We then work on breathing techniques. Our breath is something we always have with us, so we can use these techniques to combat any type of anxiety: fear of clowns, the stress of not knowing where you are going to move in a few days, or suddenly realizing while writing an article that it is almost Christmas and you have not bought any of your Christmas presents.

We keep our eyes opened as we breathe in and out. You are not supposed to focus on any particular thought. Thoughts are like the scenery you see while driving on the interstate, just passing by. Hopefully you are viewing this scenery as a passenger. I would like to encourage all drivers to focus on the road.

We meditate for a few minutes and for the first time in my twenty-four years of my life I become at peace with sitting still. Then the ‘timekeeper’ hits a gong and then we do some walking meditation. As we slowly walk around the room in a circle, Joseph encourages us to focus on our feet touching the earth. Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe. Toe. Toes? Just as he encourages us to become aware of our surroundings, I become aware of my horrendous toes. Have they always been that ugly? I hope no one is looking at my toes, but that is not the point.

The main point of the walking meditation was spatial awareness. When you are driving, you see a car in your left lane and you know not to merge into the left lane. When you are walking you don’t run into an end table, unless it is in your path and it’s faster to run into it and endure the pain to get to your desired destination. Shambhala is rooted in becoming grounded. You become aware of your surroundings and yourself in order to develop a mental clarity.

We end with another round of sitting meditation. We are encouraged to meditate daily to keep our minds clear. This process of sitting still and breathing felt so wonderful, I want to give daily meditation a try. I imagine myself becoming a more level headed person, dealing with stress in a more constructive manner and wrapping all of my Christmas presents with a smile on my face. The timekeeper strikes the gong and I don’t want to stop. I looked around. Everyone else is still meditating.

Luckily the meditation center offers public meditation on weekday evenings from six to seven and in the morning as well, so I can always come back and continue my practice. I decide this will be a good alternative to wing night. I go to wing night at a local bar to relax, catch up with friends, but why not meditate for free and drink tea instead? Maybe I could even do both. A night of wings and meditation. Apparently there are centers in cities around the United States, so this is not just special to Baltimore. If I do move there is a good chance the city will have one of these centers.

Joseph finishes his class by giving us an opportunity to ask questions.  Someone asks him if we could practice at home without the fancy pillows. Yes, any pillow will do. Can we meditate with music? Yes, but try ten minutes of silence first.  How does Shambhala differ from other types of Buddism and if he considers it better? His answer is simple. It’s not better, it’s different.

Different, I think, different like another city.  Other cities might not be better, just different. Do I need something different? I am already experiencing so many different things within my own city, so many different flavors of burger.

After meditation, I decided I like the Shambhala  concept of bettering one’s self and reaching out into the community. Perhaps I could start volunteering somewhere? No time for that right now. I started to stress out about the move and my thoughts race in circles once again.  I decide to take a few deep breaths and let the thoughts pass by like the scenery.