Reader Responses to Omm, No.

Thank you Dr. Britton for your compassionate and critical research, especially on this popular misconception of meditation as a panacea. As a long-time meditator in various traditions and a current clergy-student, I’d like to offer a remedy for the “side effects” that has only in very recent history been unhitched from spiritual practices: religion. Studying under a master teacher in a major lineage with whom you meet weekly, practicing with a sacred and intergenerational community in person, chanting ancient liturgy, celebrating holidays that contextualize your spiritual journey in annual cycles and millennia-long arcs—these are vital and universal components of “efficacious” meditation. Following an iPhone app’s instructions all by yourself in order to, say, feel less stress and anxiety at work, is a fast track to loneliness and solipsism (and, the very word and concept of “stress” does not exist in ancient languages, let alone in Scriptures). I have never once heard a genuine teacher suggest that meditation will lead to calmness. To “learn to contain your negative emotions” is the opposite of skillful meditation; rather, meditation should lead to feeling everything, to feeling more deeply, and to wholly bear one’s suffering instead of building a wall between you and it. In contrast to “self-help” goals of meditation, religious goals of mediation may include not-striving-for-goals (I know, that sounds like an obnoxious Zen koan, but it’s true), wisdom, reverence, love and fear of God, liberation from suffering—values that are tough to quantify and measure as operational definitions that take place within an individual, because they take place among a community.

I like anything that shakes up the status quo, so I read this article with interest. Meditation I’m afraid has been embraced so enthusiastically it comes down more on the side of mindlessness rather than mindfulness. We need more critical thinking, not less. The irony is that a technique to bring peace to your world should lead to death threats to those who question it should not be lost on us.

Reading about Professor Willoughby’s findings that meditation can result in serious psychiatric disorders did not surprise me, as I have heard of similar findings in the past. I have personally never engaged in transcendental meditation, but, as a Christian, I do try to find some time each day to engage in prayer. While meditation focuses on the self, prayer is a dialog with the all-powerful God, who created me, knows and loves me unconditionally, and desires to communicate with me. It leads to peace in one’s spirit and benefits not only the one praying also those he or she prays for. This does not happen by magic, but because our God loves each of us and desires to hear and answer our prayers. Of course, it helps if we can find quiet time to contemplate, but God is ready to listen no matter what time it is or how much noise surrounds us. I believe that time spent in prayer has a much greater chance of bringing peace and focus to one’s life than meditation focused on one’s self. It is literally mindfulness taken to the next level.

The risks of meditation have been known for decades if not centuries. The problem I have with this article is nowhere does it mention the prevalence or percentage of average persons without mental illness who experience significant mental problems with meditation. I suspect that number is very low. The unfortunate effect of this article is to give a wrong impression about the general merits of meditation. Perhaps this could be added to an addendum to the article.

I was equally horrified and intrigued reading the article on the dangers of meditation. Dr. Britton mentions that mindfulness is often promoted as the only tool to help regulate emotions but there are many other options. It would have been great for the author to explore those other options in greater detail, as now I am simply left worried about returning to my daily meditation practice with no alternative. Without context, the last paragraph was quite alarmist, referring to meditation as a tool for social control—I wish the author would have delved deeper into specific reasons why Dr. Britton believes that.

Omm, vey. I’m a somatic coach and have meditated daily for three years. This fundamentally misses the mark, blaming a high-context nuanced practice for how it’s misused. Ram Dass quips, “Don’t be a horny celibate,” when discussing pitfalls of the path, since many ego-dominated meditators get into trouble wanting to be further along than they are. When someone overdoes it in exercise, that can cause heart problems, but we don’t blame exercise itself. Therapy can induce rage, but we don’t say it causes it. Like therapy or exercise, meditation can have temporary setbacks but is incredibly healthy when integrated at a pace that’s appropriate for the individual. Britton used meditation to “fight” anxiety, but meditation is about noticing and allowing—not fighting. No aversions or clinging! Yet Britton says, “The ideal effect…is more on the calm end of things…it’s not really in my blood to be calm.” In most traditions from which meditation springs, goals are moksha (freedom) or liberation from samsara (cycles of rebirth), achieved through equanimity. Equanimity is about compassionately witnessing and accepting, not being calm. If Britton is meditating with integrity, then her goal would just be to notice her lack of calmness and accept it.

Dr. Willougby Britton’s research into the side effects of meditation is a valuable contribution to our knowledge about the positive—and negative—outcomes of meditation. When entering long, intensive meditation courses, students need to be aware of the benefits and potential hazards of delving into the subconscious mind where demons they have never faced lie dormant. I take exception to her characterization of Buddhism as a religion/practice that discourages critical thinking and recommends that students eschew their doubts. The opposite is the case. Buddhist practitioners are encouraged to discover the benefits—and limitations—of meditation through their own experiences rather than relying on the words of a teacher, even the Buddha. Doubt is one of the five hindrances but so are sloth and worry. There is no conspiracy to convince meditators to let go of their doubts about the practice any more than there is to get them to deny their languor when they are tired. You cannot fool meditators into ignoring their doubts because they are tuned in to the nuances of their thoughts and feelings. But you can help them find ways to investigate them. This is what Britton is doing with her research: bringing the light of science and knowledge to awareness practices. Buddhism and science both promote healthy skepticism, differing only in their methods and where they look to find answers.

Having gone through Professor Eric Loucks’s course on mindfulness meditation, I found “Omm, No” surprising and disturbing. Then, as I recalled my first experience with meditation, I found the description of “emotional blunting” was the primary reason I stopped meditating after a short while. Jump forward 50 years to Loucks’s course on mindfulness meditation, a vastly different, and more positive, experience. I have continued to meditate in a group setting since that course. What was the difference? Does aging affect reactions? Does meditating in a group setting with post-meditation discussion act as a “debriefer”? I would love to learn more from both Britton and Loucks—perhaps have a “point/counterpoint” interview?