I set my timer, which gently chimes at five minute intervals with a double chime at the end. Five minutes passed like it was a few seconds. Then ten minutes. Then fifteen.

And then it started. First, just a slight restlessness. Then a growing sense of discomfort. In my knees. In my ankles. An intense longing to fidget. And then a rising panic in my chest, my heart, and up into my throat.

Every single fibre of my being was telling me to stop. Open my eyes. Come out of my practice early. To be done for today. To have it be over already. Every part of me was screaming it.

Except for my spirit. Except for my soul. Except for my higher being and my angels that were whispering to me gently to sit.

To stay. To feel it. Be in it. To listen.

So I stayed. For that last five minutes that felt like an eternity.

Because I know that the restlessness and discomfort we can feel in meditation practice is the same discomfort we can feel in any part of our lives before and during the growth.

It shows up in our most purposeful work. Before the magic happens in our most creative moments. In our hardest conversations. In our most soulful relationships.

When the restlessness shows up, it’s often a sign that there is something for us here. Something to be felt, experienced, learnt, grown through.

Something waiting to be experienced and felt so that it can be activated.

So stay. Sit. Feel it. Be in it. Listen. And let it unfold.