I've been experimenting with altered states of consciousness since middle school. I dabbled in hypnagogic induction before I had words for it, cultivated lucid dreaming methods through personal trial and error, and compared notes with anyone else curious about consciousness or dreams: some other children and some adults.
I did what I thought was meditation at times. And in high school, a summer tai chi course gave me my first formal structure. That teacher introduced me to actual meditation techniques, not just intuitive experimentation. The standing and movement styles resonated with my age.
Then I joined the US Army. I trained at Fort McLellan Alabama before serving in South Korea and Kansas. I'd use standing meditation in formation under the Alabama sun during my OSUT training, sweat running down my shaved head, locked in place for hours. The techniques worked. But I didn't yet understand why.
After service, I spent six years traveling East Asia, Southeast Asia, India, and Türkiye, learning from monks and teachers across multiple traditions whenever I made the time. This is where the vocabulary and depth of experience developed. This is where I could finally articulate what I'd been experiencing since childhood. This is where technique became recognition and my practice began to mature considerably.
The real education came through understanding what makes meditation work. I learned to distinguish technique from the recognition that techniques serve.