My meditation class is growing. I give every person who attends a meditation necklace to practice their meditation away from the course or in their rooms. First, I play a guided meditation on the subject; then, we do our silent meditation for five to fifteen minutes.

The classes are successful beyond my expectations. They are sitting and waiting for me when Zinnia and I come in; I make sure everyone has a meditation necklace that sets the tone.

They seem agitated. First, they are squirming; they look uncomfortable, some seem sad or even angry. By the end, I can feel the calm, a peacefulness.

I see they have settled; they are peaceful and eager about meditation. And yes, they love the necklaces. They make the course feel unique to them.

The Mansion is a loving place, but it is also a busy place and an emotional place. It might be the best way to live for the residents, but it is not how they ever wished to live.

Gloria, below, has decided to join the class. She is sweet and contemplative, and quiet.

Gloria

I play a guided meditation on loneliness from the website Headspace.

It lasts ten minutes. The instructor suggests different ways of breathing for the elderly. She also urges the listeners not to fight feelings of loneliness, to feel their emotions and let them pass through. They nod. They like this advice.

After we meditate (we do a silent meditation ourselves with an introduction from me), I open up a discussion about loneliness.

I tell them I know many quite understandably feel lonely at times in assisted care. I know they miss their former lives and have left many things they love behind. I ask them to talk about their loneliness if they wish.

I ask them to be specific.

S says she misses helping other people. She loved cooking meals, cleaning the house, healing wounds. She misses the rhythms and nourishment of the supermarket. “I loved feeding people,” she said. “I get lonely when people feed me. I don’t feel useful or needed anymore.”

G said she misses being a part of the children’s lives, she gets lonely at night thinking of her grandchildren going to bed, and she is sorry she can’t read to them. “I try to talk to them on my cell phone, but it isn’t the same as being there. I miss them in my life. They are growing up without me.”

D said she misses her husband Don, who died nine years ago. She says they were soulmates, lovers since high school.

“When I get into bed, I reach out for him. I always expect him to be there; my heart almost stops when I see that he isn’t there. It feels like he should be here.”

P said she misses her friends, any of whom have died, some are in other assisted care, some have moved away, she doesn’t hear from them anymore. “We used to play cards, have lunch together, talk on the phone every day, take a boat ride on Lake George in the fall. ”

Everyone misses their dogs and cats and feels lonely without them. C said she misses walking with her corgis, playing with them. “They were always with me; they slept in bed with me; it was the worst feeling in my whole life when I had to give them up; a shelter took them and gave them to strangers. They sent me pictures, they are old now, I know they are all right, but they left a big hole in my heart. I get lonely thinking of them.”

(Zinnia is a beautiful partner. She goes and says hello to every single person in the room, one by one, looking up into their eyes, inviting scratches, rubs, conferring a lick or a kiss when they get close. She helps to calm the room and soften some of the complex emotions. She’s had a great week, therapy-wise, at Bishop Maginn on Tuesday and the Mansion today. She comes and checks on me as well, putting her head on my knee, licking my hand.  She’s into a grove after missing a year.)

The residents never miss a class. The aides tell me they are grateful to learn how to meditate; they look forward to the class all week. Some only meditate in class, some in their rooms, some outside sitting on a chair in the sun.

They say it calms them, quiets their fear, softens the loneliness.”When I think of what I’ve left, it almost feels like all that is still with me when I can picture it. I guess they might all be there; who knows? said Peggie”

Sometimes I think the meditation class is the best thing that I do. Next week will be part two of “living with loneliness.” I see they want very much to talk about it, and we’ll meditate about it as well.

I told them I didn’t want to mislead them. Meditation is not a magical or mystical cure.  There will always be some loneliness in their lives. But I believe meditation to be healthy, calming, soothing. For me, it is a journey into my soul.

People who meditate live longer than people who don’t. I believe it helps us to understand who we are and accept where we are in life.

It’s always better to feel the things that make us sad, I say, rather than hide from them or fight them. The residents agreed; they smiled and nodded their heads. It is good, D said, to accept things. I told them meditation has helped me live my life rather than fight it or deny it.

Meditation is proven to be good for the heart, it lowers blood pressure, and at least for me, it helps me accept my life, the good and the bad. Meditation feeds joy and happiness for me; it’s not just about being sad.

I proposed we meditation together one morning a week, each in our places, not together. At 8 am. following Monday, I suggested that we meditate in a private space for ten minutes, all at the same time.

We can talk about it in next week’s class, which might be expanding to Tuesday and Thursday.