Meditation (is
not what you think)
by Doug Keller
Meditation
is not what you think. Or at least not what I first thought – that
it’s a nice indulgence for people with time on their hands. No,
meditation is as vital as a good night’s sleep, particularly for
active, creative minds such as yours and mine.
There
is an element of meditation in every activity that we undertake, and
so a basic need for meditation is not as strange as it may seem.
Meditation is concentration, the essential ingredient in any effort
to bring an idea, vision or inspiration into reality. Such focused
awareness is the key to success whether you’re producing a work of
art, cooking a meal or putting a basketball through a hoop. To
succeed we have to set aside all other concerns at least for a
moment to attend to what is at hand. In other words, we meditate.
This
is why meditation seems at first hard to define: it has no
particular content by which to describe it. Meditation is not what
you think, but rather it’s the condition of mind that makes clear,
effective and creative thought possible.
Yet
meditation is also a practice in its own right. People set aside
time simply to meditate apart from doing anything else. Meditation
done for its own sake is the purest form of concentration in which
we are conditioning the mind to become quiet and aware. Unlike
concentration in other activities that are directed toward some
outer result, in meditation we seek quietude itself.
Such
inner quietude can seem impossible when we look at our own minds.
("Me? A quiet mind? Hardly seems likely") Yet this is
largely because of our misconceptions about what it is to have a
quiet mind. The very idea seems to suggest that a quiet mind has no
thoughts at all, as if we are supposed to erase the natural activity
of the mind by stopping all thought. This seems impossible
because it is impossible. You can’t really ‘stop’ the
mind any more than you could calm waves on a lake with your hand. If
anything, your efforts to stop thinking will only create more
thoughts.
The
difficulty lies in the idea of doing something to stop our thoughts.
The truth is that if you wrestle with the mind as an adversary, you
will lose. The mind becomes quiet only when you understand and
befriend it. Thoughts are simply condensed forms of your own
awareness, and the mind has been assigned the function of thinking
thoughts. That is what it does, and so it is of course unwilling –
perhaps even unable – to stop. But rather than try to stop the
mind from doing what it is meant to do, we meditate by turning our
attention away, for a time, from the processes of thought, even
while they continue to go on. It is possible to disengage our
awareness from the processes of thought, just as we turn our
attention away from the senses as we fall asleep. The mind may still
be active even while you are meditating, but its activity need not
disturb your inner state of clarity and quietude.
It’s
largely a question of choice in our attitude. Disengaging from our
thoughts is a lot like relaxing back on a hillside to watch the
clouds passing by. We marvel at the different shapes and forms the
clouds assume without being particularly affected by them; we’re
neither relieved nor upset by what clouds do, because despite what
we read into them for fun, we know what they are. They’re just
clouds – condensation of moisture in the air.
By
the same token, we do have a choice in how we regard our own
thoughts, and thus in how we allow our thoughts to affect us. In
meditation we recognize that thoughts are just thoughts. They form
and dissolve even more quickly and freely than clouds, and in
greater variety. They’re of consequence only when we invest them
with energy by choosing to act upon them. Otherwise, thoughts pass
by and are forgotten, replaced by others. Though they take center
stage in the moment, demanding your attention, time is the test of
their true importance. Consider this; can you remember even half of
the thoughts that so engrossed your mind this morning? Do they seem
as important now as they seemed then?
The
problem with thought is not the fact that we think, but that
we get so caught up in the processes of thought that we get lost.
We’re ‘absent-minded’ when we’re engaged in thought that
we’re literally ‘missing in action.’ We’re not able to
attend effectively to our present reality. Meditation is the act of disengaging
from the process of thought enough to ‘watch’ our thoughts with
a certain amount of detachment. Thoughts don’t have to be
relentlessly weeded and thrown out of the mind. They are dispelled
simply by not paying any further attention to them. Such thoughts
drift away and dissolve into the consciousness from whence they
came, and that’s that.
Yet
some thoughts can be important and worth holding on to. We do have
the power to set aside worthwhile thoughts for later, just as we
make appointments to hold important discussions at the right time
and in the right setting. The time of meditation is very fertile for
the mind, and it’s easy to get sidetracked by every brilliant
inspiration that comes up. It is possible to talk to your own
mind and say, "That’s a really good idea – please remember
it and I’ll attend to it once I finish my meditation." Lo and
behold, the mind agrees to tuck the thought away for later, and you
are free to go deeper into your meditation. For the mind is not an
adversary to your meditation if you treat it well; it’s more like
an overly enthusiastic counsel, or perhaps an impatient child who
wants attention. Agree to give the mind its due, and it will give
you the space to meditate.
As
thoughts begin to dissipate in meditation, we become aware of our
own awareness, which is naturally peaceful and calm. By meditating
we do not become anything new, but rather experience ourselves as we
truly are – peaceful, contented, inherently good and loving.
Everything that we do is really directed toward having that
experience; success is nothing more than a confirmation of our
worthiness. But it is only in meditation that we truly experience
our own beauty and worthiness. That is why we would want to make
time every day to return to that state of inner quiet, lest we
continue to lead lives, as Thoreau said, of quiet desperation.
How
does one begin to meditate? Take a few moments to sit quietly in a
relaxed but upright posture. Agree with yourself that these few
moments are important enough that everything else can wait. Close
your eyes and turn your attention toward your breath, toward the
rhythm and sensation of your own breath, without trying to change or
control it in any way. Allow it to be smooth and even, and gently
deepen your breath. The breath and the mind are closely related: as
your breath becomes smooth and even, your attention becomes more
clear and focused, and your mind less busy.
Watch
your thoughts as manifestations of your own awareness, like clouds
forming and dissolving. Rather than following the drift of your
thoughts, remain aware of the sky in which they form – the space
of your own awareness. In other words, be aware of the source of
your thoughts, the place out of which the thoughts form and into
which they dissolve. That place is you, which you cannot
‘see’ as an object, but can experience as a subject. It is the
pure experience of ‘I am.’
The
breath is your guide for returning again and again to that
awareness. Let your breath take you into your heart. You will find
that the experience of your own peace and quietude is always there.
You don’t have to do anything to create it. Let your thoughts be
and enter your heart again and again, following the thread of your
own breath, until your awareness becomes established there, as if
you are sitting quietly within your own heart.
There
is no need to judge your thoughts as good or bad, or to berate the
mind for continuing to think. If a thought seems important, ask the
mind to save it for later and turn your awareness back to your
experience of your own pure awareness, the energy of consciousness
out of which these thoughts form. Enjoy that experience of yourself,
and experience how rested and at peace you become.
As
you practice meditation from day to day, let the time slowly
increase of its own accord. At first, just a few minutes is enough;
you will naturally come to want more, and your ability to sustain
your meditation will increase. Treat meditation as a gift that you
give to yourself, a gift that grants you exactly what you need in
the moment. Each meditation will be different according to your
needs – so there is no point in comparing one meditation against
another; your needs will be different from day to day. Just be aware
of how after each meditation you emerge rested, clear, relaxed, full
of insight, and somehow better equipped to meet the challenges of
the day.
Doug is a celebrated
teacher and author whose works include: Anusara Yoga and Refining the
Breath: Pranayama in the Anusara Style of Yoga, The Heart of the
Yogi - all available to purchase on his website: www.doyoga.com.
Doug teaches in classes and workshops at his home base in Herndon,
Virginia and also travels both nationally and internationally offering
advanced workshops and teacher trainings.
Please visit his website at:
www.doyoga.com
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