This month, Robert Imbeault, is joining us to talk about how meditation saved him.
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Four or five nights a week, I found myself out in clubs where I took ecstasy and drank to toasts that weren’t given. Most mornings I woke up at home, but no matter where I ended up, I still managed to show up for work every day. After weeks and months passed, I became less and less effective in a company I co-founded, hoping that my partners wouldn’t notice. I was wrong.
During this downward spiral, my girlfriend, Mira, was trying to pull us out of the party scene. One morning, she suggested we do something together that changed my entire life.
I didn’t realize it at the time. In fact, I would’ve said "no" to her offer, but to make Mira happy, I agreed to do it—and I’m so glad I did. We opened the Buddhify app on my phone, laid it down on the pillow between us, and began listening to a five-minute meditation called "Good."
My First Experience with Meditation
The "Good" meditation we listened to that morning was intended to help the listener start their day off with positive intentions. A woman’s voice began speaking softly in a kind, British accent. I’m doing this to make Mira happy, I reminded myself.
"Everyone ultimately just wants to be happy and well." No shit. "So often we can sabotage ourselves with self-criticism and feelings of unworthiness, guilt," whispered the woman’s voice.
"So, by taking a few minutes here to set a positive intention, it can serve as a foundation for the rest of the day. Before the other negative stuff can take hold." This can’t be that bad.
"We’ll do this by repeating some simple phrases." Here we go.
"May things be good today," she said. I snickered quietly.
"May things be good today." I hope Mira is enjoying this.
"May things be good today." I’m sure my day will be fine, even though I have to deal with hiding the fact that I’m going through a comedown again and I can’t focus.
"May things be good today." Why is this woman saying this? I don't deserve for things to be good today. I deserve whatever is coming to me. I’ve earned the torment of guilt and shame that hits me like ocean waves, settling only to make sure I was still barely above water.
"May things be good today." Stop it!
"May things be good today." I could barely hold in the tears.
"May things be good today." What would happen if I took one day away from the misery?
"May things be good today."
"May things be good today," I whispered in unison with my new friend’s voice. The more I repeated it, the more I wanted to have a good day. It didn’t matter if I deserved it. I was exhausted. I selfishly, desperately wanted a good day. Give me this one day.
The track ended, but not before one more phrase from my new best friend.
"And if things aren’t so good today, may my ability to deal with them be good today." I flashed a smile at Mira and escaped to the washroom to breathe in solitude.
The mantra echoed in my brain. I had a good day that day.
Learning to Embrace Meditation
I began doing meditation every day. My reasons were utilitarian at first: I was more present in conversations. It calmed me down before meetings. After a session before bed, I slept better. Slowly and subtly, my quality of life improved.
At the same time, I’d found the ability to say "no" when people asked me to come out and party, an answer foreign to me only weeks before. I’d like to say it was a clean break from drugs and alcohol after that first meditation, but breaking from patterns so painfully ingrained is rarely so clean. I stopped, then slipped. I stopped again, but slipped less.
The dance continued until one day the permission we needed to set our zero-tolerance rule appeared: Mira was pregnant with our first child. We said "no more" and never looked back.
As any self-proclaimed geek would do, I researched meditation voraciously. I knew it was helping me with my sleep, confidence, and emotions (in combination with therapy), but I was shocked to discover what it offered me neurologically and physiologically.
I consumed every meditation book I could get my hands on, including those by Dan Harris, Sharon Salzberg, and Robert Thurman, which led me to books on Buddhism and a set of beliefs that resonated with me as husband and father.
What started as an attempt to appease my girlfriend became a way of life for me.
What My Life Looks Like Today
My journey with meditation, which led me to Buddhism, has continued to blossom. Mira, who’s now my wife of five years, along with our daughter, traveled with me to Buddhist countries where I’ve sat in silence with monks and fellow seekers. I learned the loving-kindness practice (also known as Metta), which is about loving yourself, the people around you, the people you have trouble with, and the world. We took a transcendental meditation course, which involves reciting a mantra for two 20-minute sessions a day. I even signed up for a 10-day silent Vipassana retreat, where you spend 10 hours a day meditating and speak to no one. I left on Day Six—but that’s a story for another article!
Meditating together strengthened my relationship with Mira. In our interactions—and in my interactions with others—I’m more present, pleasant, and authentic. Things I would’ve said to someone years ago, I’m able to stop myself from saying today. In addition, I’m able to reflect after the fact and ask myself why I wanted to say that. Meditation gives me that space.
Even with a three-year-old and a newborn at home, I still find time to meditate, usually once in the morning and once in the evening. Whether it’s 20 minutes or 40, or even just breathing at night, meditation is a part of me now.
I left the startup I helped build to raise my girls, which involved giving up a part of the life to which I’d grown accustomed, and it was the best decision I’ve ever made. I not only get to spend more time with my family—I get to be present for it.
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Robert Imbeault is a successful entrepreneur and childhood sexual abuse survivor. Straddling the line between poor and destitute, Robert was raised by a single mother in a failing steel town. He's gone from sleeping on the street to building startups and even meeting the Queen. He's had an essay published in The Globe and Mail, was profiled in Courage Magazine for his work with the Cancer Foundation, and was a recipient of the 2010 Business Journal's Forty Under 40 award. Recently retired, Robert spends time writing, reading, and enjoying his family. He is the author of the best-selling book Before I Leave You: A Memoir on Suicide, Addiction and Healing.
