For years, I thought meditation was something other people did. You know the type—calm, serene, effortlessly grounded. Meanwhile, I was always moving a mile a minute, mind racing, emotions ping-ponging between ambition and burnout. I had heard about the benefits of meditation—who hasn’t? But it felt distant, almost clinical. I didn’t want to study mindfulness; I wanted to feel it.
That’s when I found the UCLA Mindfulness Awareness Research Center.
From Practice to Daily Living
As a student in their program, something shifted. For the first time, mindfulness wasn’t presented as a lofty ideal or a temporary escape. It was daily life. It was my breath during a difficult conversation. It was the pause between thoughts. It was the gentle noticing of my inner world—without judgment.
The instructors weren’t just experts—they were practitioners. People who embodied what they taught. There was something powerful about learning from those who had integrated mindfulness into the fabric of their everyday experience. I remember one of them saying, “The point isn’t to escape the noise—it’s to learn how to hear your own voice within it.” That stayed with me.
Week by week, I started to feel the magic—not the mystical kind, but the kind that made me more me. Meditation helped me meet myself again: the version of me that knew how to listen, how to soften, and how to be present, even when things felt uncertain.
More Than a Practice—A Way of Being
Through UCLA’s courses, I began weaving meditation into my daily rhythm. Not as a rigid ritual, but as a living, breathing companion. I meditated in traffic. In between meetings. While washing dishes. And eventually, in community—with others who also believed in the quiet revolution of coming back to the present moment.
That’s where the seed for Middle Eastern Meditation was planted. I wanted to take what I had learned—not just the techniques, but the experience—and share it with people who needed it the most: soldiers, survivors, anyone carrying the weight of trauma.
Finding the Magic
Meditation isn’t about achieving some zen state. It’s about coming home to yourself—over and over again. The real magic isn’t in the stillness—it’s in the aliveness you find within it.
To anyone who’s still searching for their entry point into meditation, I see you. Try sitting with yourself, gently. Try learning from someone who lives what they teach. And if you’re curious, start where I did: with teachers who remind you that mindfulness isn’t a destination—it’s a way of being.
Because once you feel it, you’ll know: the magic was always inside you.
Want to Start Your Own Journey?
We host regular guided sessions and mindful mixers that bring meditation into real life—music, movement, and all. Whether you’re new or experienced, there’s space for you here. Come breathe with us.
