Sitting in a meditation hall with 50 others in the English countryside, I felt like I was continually being punched in the face.
Despite following every instruction perfectly, observe the breath, notice the sensations, let thoughts dissolve, something felt terribly wrong. My body screamed, but I was told to simply “sit with it.”
I was so determined to “get it right” that I became a Buddhist monk.
Ten years later, still in my robes, I finally understood the truth:
I had PTSD. And traditional meditation wasn’t healing me—it was retraumatizing me.
The Story They Don’t Tell You About Meditation
My psychotherapist said something that changed everything: “Drop the D in PTSD—it’s not a disorder, it’s a response.”
That “punch” I felt wasn’t resistance to overcome. It was trauma trying to get my attention. My body needed care, not more discipline.