How do I deal with distractions like pain and itching during meditation?

If you feel pain, simply be attentive to it. Don’t react. Don’t try to escape. Attention is the great sword—it cuts through everything. Just watch the pain, stay with it. Be a witness, not a participant.

For instance, you’re sitting silently in the final stage of meditation, motionless, and suddenly the body begins to complain. One leg begins to go numb, an itch arises in the hand, or it feels as though ants are crawling across your skin—yet you’ve checked several times and found nothing. The sensation is internal, not external. What should you do?

Be aware of each sensation. The leg is going numb? Watch it fully, with total attention. There’s an itch? Don’t scratch—it won’t help. Just be present with it. Keep your eyes closed, stay still, and just observe. Within seconds, the itch will vanish on its own.

Even if more intense discomfort arises—like sharp pain in the stomach or pressure in the head—do not panic. It’s possible, because during meditation, the body undergoes a deep transformation. Its chemistry begins to shift. Internal processes are stirred. A kind of chaos is initiated—emotions, toxins, tensions begin to surface. You may feel nausea, the urge to vomit, or a splitting headache. These are signs of change. Meditation is shaking up the old structure.

What should you do in such moments? Do nothing—except watch. Observe the pain in the head, the tightness in the chest, or the churn in the gut. Don’t interfere. Don’t try to “fix” anything. Just be a witness. In time, everything begins to settle—and not just settle, but dissolve with such grace and silence that you will be astonished. The very energy that caused the pain transforms into a subtle pleasure. Pain and pleasure are not different substances—they are two expressions of the same energy. If that energy is met with attention rather than resistance, pain dissolves and pleasure arises.

The secret is this: remain seated, stay still, and give attention to each arising distraction. When all distractions are observed and not acted upon, they dissolve. And in their absence, something miraculous is revealed—you become aware that the entire body has disappeared. Only presence remains.

But why do these sensations arise only during meditation? You spend the entire day in your body and nothing unusual happens—no itching, no headaches, no pain. But the moment you sit in silence, the storm begins.

Understand this: the body has ruled you for lifetimes. It has been the master, and you, unknowingly, have served it. Now, through meditation, you’re reversing the roles—you are reclaiming your rightful seat as the witness, the conscious center. The body resists this change. It wants to stay in control. So it fights back, creating discomfort, trying to pull your awareness back to its level, to distract you, to reclaim its throne.

This is the body’s politics—it uses every trick to keep you identified with it. False pains, itching, crawling sensations—these are its tools of manipulation. And because the body has ruled for so long, across lifetimes, this resistance is powerful.

But don’t suppress these things. Don’t chant a mantra to avoid them. Don’t try to distract yourself from the distractions. That, too, is a subtle escape. I am not teaching you suppression—I am teaching you awareness. Just be present with whatever arises. That is enough.

And because these distractions are ultimately illusory, they dissolve under the light of awareness. Once the body accepts its new role as servant, once it stops resisting, a tremendous silence fills you. Bliss wells up from within—bliss that you cannot contain or express. A peace dawns that defies understanding. You overflow with a joy that does not belong to this world.