A Touch of Now - An Introduction

“I sit here desperately wanting to create something; to say something on these pages that will convey my thoughts, the beauty of this spot; to share my experience of this moment in time. My chest aches and tightens, as if to squeeze out the salty tears of longing. I look up from my shaded table cracked and weathered like the hull of an ancient ship, my back warmed in the afternoon sun, and thought is inadequate to the task.
Emerald green waves, speckled white with tips of foam, roll toward me from a forest curling like a finger out into the sea. Puffy white clouds emerge from beyond this jagged green horizon and float in lazy patterns against a pale blue sky. Leaves flutter in the warm breeze and dancing shadows dabble all around my wordless perch as seagulls, screeching nature’s plan, dive for unseen morsels and a jittery squirrel buries his face in the still moist grass.
The scene is there for everyone present. My experience lost within me and an inability to truly share the wonder may be my greatest pain.”


When exactly I wrote this is uncertain. Why, is an even greater mystery? What I am certain of however, is the truth embraced by the experience. It describes a moment in which I felt the touch of “now,” and in that touch the truth was unmistakable, simple, clear, and thoroughly unspeakable. I was present to that moment and the moment shared with me all there is to know. This Blog is about my journey, then and now, into the moment and the truth I find there.


July 19, 2010

A Thought on Thinking

     The mind is capricious and unstable. It's fleeting, feverish, turbulent, and tenacious. Overcoming it seems to me harder than mastering the wind.

July 18, 2010

On Dogens Phenomenology of Zazen

(Excerpts are from Zen Action Zen Person by T.P. Kasulis and are commentary on Dogen’s “Zazengi” or Principles of zazen. (Italics will be mine)

      “Once you have adjusted your posture, take a deep breath, inhale and exhale, rock your body right and left and settle into a steady, immobile sitting position. Think of not thinking. How do you think of not thinking? Without thinking. This in itself is the essential art of zazen.
      The zazen I speak of is not learning meditation. It is simply the Dharma-gate of repose and bliss, the cultivation-authentication of totally culminated enlightenment. It is the presence of all things as they are.”
      Though they are not Dogen’s creation, Kasulis writes, “To understand these terms (thinking, not-thinking, without-thinking) is to enter into the heart of Dogen’s thought. So let us attempt to do justice to these ideas by starting with a question presented to him by a student. 'How does one think about not-thinking?' asked the student? To which he replied, 'Without thinking.'"
      “What we call thinking is considering with the intent of weighing ideas.”
      “No-thinking is simply the negation or denial of thinking which would be an act of thinking in an attempt at negating that thinking; an act, the subject of which, is itself."
      “Without-thinking however goes beyond thinking and not-thinking. One may affirm (through thinking) or negate (through not-thinking) the value or relevance of the products of (one’s) ideations…..Yet (without-thinking) implies…accepting the presence of ideation without either affirmation or denial.”
      Kasulis gives us examples.
             Thinking: Includes all that we regard as consciousness, i.e. any mental act or ideation wherein we assume, explicit or implied, a posture toward some entity. The posture may be emotional, judgmental, or real or imaginary, believing or rejecting. In short, all ideational attitudes.
             Not-thinking: In the intentional aspect of not-thinking we attempt to negate, deny, or reject an object of thought. With regard to the present exposition, the intention of not-thinking has itself as object. In other words, not-thinking is a “negating attitude toward” the act of thinking. Although this mode of consciousness might sound esoteric, it is quite common to the man who, having difficulty falling asleep due to thoughts of his girlfriend, takes a deep breath and resolves to make a conscious effort to stop his thinking and make his mind absent of the disrupting thoughts. This effort is an actual mental act: there is not only an intentional attitude but also an object of his intentional not-thinking. There is a process of conceptualization that is the object of his will.
      Dogen rejects the notion that Zen meditation is a form of not-thinking or an effort to make one’s mind blank or stop all conceptual processes. He prefers to characterize the goal of zazen as without-thinking.
            Without-thinking: Without-thinking assumes no intentional attitude; there is no affirmation or denial, there is neither acceptance nor rejection, there is no objectification of any experience.
      Kasulis writes, “Without the objectifying activity of thinking, there is in zazen only the experience of universal flux, the flow of temporal events….If zazen is interrupted however, if reflective thought (thinking or not-thinking) is superimposed onto the experience, temporal categories arise and the realization is lost.”
      Referring again to without-thinking, he goes on to say that, “it is still a mode of consciousness, and through reflection upon a without-thinking act (experience), one may isolate aspects of its formal content. The point….is that at the time of without-thinking’s actual occurrence, those contents were neither affirmed nor negated – they were merely an un-objectified presence without any conscious or unconscious attitude directed toward them. In short, it is a non-conceptual or pre-reflective mode of consciousness." But what do we mean by a “pre-reflective” mode of consciousness? Kasulis offers a clear statement on this very important mode of being in the world. The following excerpt is from Zen Action Zen Person, pg. 75.
      “In ordinary life, pre-reflective experiences are often only fleeting breaks in the continuity of thinking. After mowing the lawn, an exhausted man leans his arm on the lawnmower and rests. For a moment or two, his eyes gaze downward and he thinks and feels nothing specific whatsoever. Since for that moment he is not doing anything, we cannot even say that he is making implicit…. assumptions: for that brief period, it is not even an issue whether the grass, or even he himself, is real. He simply is as-he-is, with no intentional attitude at all. This does not imply however that the experience is devoid of content – even the simplest reflection on that moment would reveal, for example, that he had been gazing on the green of the grass rather than the blue of the sky. Still, the content was not originally an object of consciousness: the grass was there – (however) it assumed meaning – only through reflection on the original experience. In other words, pre-reflectively there had been a continuity of consciousness or awareness even with the lack of intentional directionality. Even though the reflection on the act later revealed a content of which one had been conscious at the time of the act, there was, pre-reflectively, no assumptive, unconscious intentional attitude to constitute that content into a meaning-bearing object.” (Italics are mine)
      I find this paragraph very explicit about the nature of pre-reflective consciousness and it allows me to see why Dogen posits “without-thinking” as being upstream of both thinking and not-thinking in terms of understanding his perspective on zazen, i.e., that it is at once, both the practice and the realization. We also now can see the logic in his seemingly esoteric answer to the student when he said “without thinking.”
      If “without thinking” is the alpha and omega of zazen as he suggests, it stands to reason that it (without-thinking) requires, and can sustain, no enrichment through reflective analysis. Reflective thinking, objectifies – assigns meaning to – the contents of a moment of pre-reflective consciousness, and in so doing, limits it to a specific number of components.
      Initially the pre-reflective experience is complete. It is upon reflection that it seems lacking in some way, and this is due to the nature of objectification. Objectifying is the process of creating boundaries or distinctions that will allow the contents of our “thinking” to fit into prescribed categories. In other words, by retrospectively objectifying the contents of pre-reflective consciousness (without-thinking), we create categories for the “thinking” mode of consciousness and lose sight of the fact that “without-thinking,” -as experienced- makes no judgments, categories, or objectifications at all. The pre-reflective experience (without-thinking) as-it-is, “literally leaves nothing (no thing) to be clarified, analyzed, or enriched.”
      All this would lead us to the notion that “without-thinking” must have some form (an act of objectification in itself however) of its own. Yet this seems to bring us to the other side of a familiar coin - Form is Emptiness, Emptiness is Form. Without-thinking, initially a pre-reflective wholeness, is made into an object in order to “think” (or talk or write) about it as one particular object among many. Yet the pre-reflective experience is, in-itself, the Emptiness of Zen; oneness.
      In Dogen’s view this is the equivalent of what Buddhism calls “enlightenment,” realization, or Satori. So it is no great leap to understand that when the Master directs his student to “sit without-thinking” he is directing the student to experience the enlightenment, the Buddha Mind, the “realization” to which he is naturally heir. “To practice zazen is to be enlightened. Enlightenment is not a static state of achievement; it is the active undertaking of the (W)ay (as )exemplified in zazen….proper sitting authenticates the enlightenment already there. (Kasulis pg.78 – parentheticals are mine)
      In summary, Dogen argues that proper sitting meditation, in order to realize one’s inherent Buddha-nature, is called Shikantanza, or “just sitting,” wherein the meditator achieves, or rests in, the state of consciousness which is part of everyday mind and herein referred to as without-thinking (pre-reflective mind). “...but reflective thought, insofar as it objectifies and transforms experience into static, inflexible categories, prevents the Buddha-nature from being experienced as it is: as impermanence.” (Kasulis, pg. 82)
      This resonates for me, with other statements that are repeated over and over throughout Zen and Buddhist literature; that enlightenment or realization is not about acquiring something from the outside, but rather by removing the delusory layers of thought that separate us from the nature of our True Mind. I am always reminded of Alexander Pope’s poem where he wrote, “Presume not God to scan, the proper study of mankind is man….”
      In the Zen experience we are asked to delve deeper into the study of self and this is reinforced in Dogen’s oft repeated, “To study Buddhism is to study the self, to study the self is to forget the self, and to forget the self is to be enlightened by all things.” I read the notion of forgetting the self in this statement, as equivalent to the state of “without-thinking” and its application to our everyday affairs. And by extension the proper study of ourselves is likely to enlighten us to the interconnected nature of ourselves with our world.
      What is it exactly, that severs this interconnection? And if one is able to achieve this pre-reflective, without-thinking state, it seems to me someone might ask, “How do you know when you are there?” But this question about realization asks for an act of objectification which will require one to be removed from without-thinking. A more basic question might be, “How does one know something, the very nature of which, is beyond an act of knowing?” But in asking, we would find ourselves back at page one and our study to proceed once again.

July 14, 2010

There is Nothing to Fear but Fear Itself

        The truth of FDR's statement has become evident in my life. I can attest to it’s veracity through my experience and I want not to forget it. I am writing this in an attempt to etch this truth clearly, once and for all into everyday living. And if the statement is true then one must ask, Why? What can be said to convince the dubious traveler that the only thing he/she needs to fear is the state of fear itself? In the following paragraphs I hope to clarify just that, not only for the reader but perhaps more importantly, for myself.
        So let’s begin; why should the “state of being afraid” be the real object of our fear rather than the multitude of “things” by which we are readily overwhelmed? The fear of, say failure, is a feeling about something that is not immediately present. This feeling of dread, anxiety, or apprehension does not exist without some intellectual backdrop to which it refers, be it an imagined picture or scenario, or just words spoken softly between our ears. We stand frozen in time so to speak, as a result of a future image; the present gives way to an illusion. Now for those of us who have been stifled by this dark, hooded figure, we know that our eyes become transfixed upon his chimerical scythe and what surely follows is death to our power in the present.
        So “fearing” is what we should actually be afraid of because this experience of fearing is in the now - here in the present moment - and therefore does exist. It’s not something imagined, existing only in the future, like the possibility of having a flat tire tomorrow, an operation next month, or even getting fired next year. Thus fear itself is our nemesis. But how do we recognize and deal with this fear of fearing?
        First we need to see that what has just been written is accurate in general and true specifically for us. We must nurture an intimate awareness with the manner and times when our fear actually grows out of an intitial visceral reaction to a thought or sensation, rather than the illusory object or outcome of an imagined future. Armed with this awareness we can then set our intention to living out of the present and not the horror movies behind our eyes.
        I recall sitting in the passenger seat of a vehicle as a friend drove me to the hospital for an operation. While I stared out the window there was a moment where I realized that the queasy feeling in my stomach, the slight fever-like temperature on my forehead, and sweaty palms were the result of an intellectual cycle. I thought about having to go into a place where all my power would have to be surrendered. A place where I would be at the mercy of a series of actions that I knew nothing about and would be performed by people I had never met. It moved from that generality to the specifics of having a needle placed improperly between two vertebrae and resulting in a life of paralysis…… Then, in my increasing dis-ease, my practice paid a dividend. I remembered the story of a man hanging by one hand off over a cliff, his grip slowly slipping down the thin, frail branch. Below him was a hungry tiger salivating at the sight of his next meal and an equally hungry tiger on the cliff just above his reach. Several feet below, he noticed a small vine growing out from the side of the cliff and containing a single bright red strawberry. When the branch finally slipped though his grasp he reached out and plucked the berry, savoring it as he fell toward the tiger with a smile on his face and a happy heart.
        I had read this story several times before, but at that moment the truth it holds offered me relief from the fear I felt. I was able to see that I had nothing to fear in that moment. I wasn’t even at the hospital yet, but as I recalled this story a new posture issued forth from deep inside. From that moment on I was able to greatly minimize the discomfort of my ordeal, prior to a welcomed sedative. By continually going back to the fact that there was actually nothing to fear in those moments when fear arose, save for the imaginings of some future event, I was able to let go and relax into the present. A present were I was actually comfortable: lying in a bed, being waited on, and feeling a comfort in the familiar presence of my friend.
        I realized later, at a more intellectual level, that when in the face of a perceived threat, if I let go of the dark imaginings that spontaneously combust in my mind, fear has no place to gain its emotional foothold. What is actually present to us at all times is this moment “as it presents itself.” And it was the fear aroused by my imagination that grew exponentially as I allowed myself to believe that those illusory possibilities in the future were real here and now - in the present.
        The only place we can feel pain, real pain, is in this moment – now - the present. We cannot live in the future; the future is where we avoid living.
        We have choices if only we can see them and that is what this is all about; exercising our power through the choices given to us as a result of embracing a specific meditative practice. Then we must use the ability to focus gleaned from our time on the cushion, as a tool to disengage ourselves from the repetitious cycle of illusions. And through a mindful awareness directed toward our sensory/visceral experiences, we are able to break our attachment to the disabling cycle of fearing.
        We leave our head behind and enter into the physical present. In this present there is no place for fear to grab hold except through that mental doorway to an illusory future. While living out of the present however, we can respond directly to that which the present “presents” to us. And if we are involved in the here and now of our life, the dark imaginings of an illusory future are unable to speak to us.
        If the present moment does speak to our fear of failure - perhaps through mental conversations, premonitions from long deceased parents, or simply dark, ominous imaginings - we are free the moment we mindfully experience them. Each of these mental harangues is accompanied by a physical manifestation; usually a tension somewhere within the body. Through a meditation practice we learn to notice these tensions and in so doing we have given ourselves a choice. We can ignore the physical signs and remain prisoners of the old patterns, or through mindfulness directed toward these visceral experiences, we can detach from the disabling cycle of fear.
        Why do they say that “heroes are made not born”? And why does it seem that the wary “hero” always says he’s not a hero but rather an ordinary person just doing what was necessary in the moment? The answer is because he or she has operated from a place where they were fully engaged in the present without thoughts of failure, pain, misjudgment, or fear of something in the future. They simply stopped thinking and acted. We are able to live through this same process if we are only willing to do what is necessary to recognize that when we are fully immersed in the present we cannot experience fear. We simply act. We become that hero who cannot see what all the fuss is about because we were “just doing what was necessary in the moment”.
        Meditation is an exercise in being present. It is where we learn to focus on the present in the midst of thoughts, pains, fears, and conversations all clamoring for our attention. It’s why it is referred to as a meditation practice and not the “endgame.”
        Now let’s take a moment to discuss the idea of avoiding or running from our fear - not the lion or an actual threat but - the fear of the threat, pain, or discomfort. Doing so only serves to increase our fear. It seems so backward when we first look at it. Why would becoming more aware of a fear release us from it, when ignoring it, or running from it, will make the fear have more power over us? First we have to acknowledge that in certain situations fear can save our lives - like running from that actual lion. What we are investigating here however, is the experience of “fearing” itself, not the object of that fear. We are looking at the effects of fearing itself and how it controls our mind, our body, and our ability to act skillfully.
        If I try to ignore or avoid the feeling of fear that grips me at the prospect of doing something, perhaps where there is a chance that I might make a mistake, fail, or in some way suffer, two things will take place. First I will not be able to be an active participant in my life because I will freeze in the state of avoidance mentioned earlier, or I will use all manner of physical or psychological defenses to run from the perceived threat. And second, the illusions I create in response to the threat will remain in the back of my mind. And each and every time the same or similar situation arises, those illusions will increasingly become imagined as actual events. Add enough moments together and I’m totally out of the loop of life. In the extreme I might be driven into a catatonic state or just live through schizophrenic-like connections to partial realities.
        On the other hand, as strange as it may seem before we experience it for ourselves, if we embrace the experience of being afraid as I have suggested, we will break the cycle of fearful ideations. And it is truly this cycle, the mental raping of the “present as it is”, that causes our suffering. When it is the lion…run. But when it is the thought that causes our fear, it becomes the self-regenerating cycle of thought that cripples free living. We become imprisoned behind the bars of our own thought and all we can see are the ominous shadows that are cast upon the walls of our cell.

Originally noted 10-06-07

July 11, 2010

Accident or Connection

      This first piece is from Alexander Pope's, Essay on Man (1734) and the one following it is from the writings of Blasé Pascal who died in 1662. It is hard to imagine that Pope did not know what had been written by a Frenchman less than 100 years before. Yet it is even more exciting to think that they came to these conclusions separately, and voiced them in a manner suggesting conspiracy. (All the following excerpts were found in a book by Maurice Friedman titled The Worlds Of Existentialism, A Critical Reader.)

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan:
The proper study of mankind is man.
Plac’d upon this isthmus of a middle state,
A being darkly wise and rudely great.
With too much knowledge for the Sceptic’s side,
With too much weakness for the Stoic’s pride,
He hangs between; in doubt to act or rest,
In doubt to deem himself a God or beast;
In doubt his mind or body to prefer.
Born but to die and reasoning but to err’
Alike in ignorance, his reason such,
Whether he thinks too little or too much,
Chaos of thought and passion, all confused;
Still by himself abused or disabused.
Created half to rise and half to fall,
Great lord of all things yet prey to all.
Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurled,
The glory jest and riddle of the world.
                                       -Essay On Man

 
Blaise Pascal -
        "Whoso takes this survey of himself will be terrified at the thought that he is upheld in the material being, given him by nature, between these two abysses of the infinite and nothing, he will tremble at the sight of these marvels…"
         "For after all what is man in nature? A nothing in regard to the infinite, a whole in regard to nothing, a mean between nothing and the whole; infinitely removed from understanding either extreme. The end of things and their beginnings are invincibly hidden from him in impenetrable secrecy, he is equally incapable of seeing the nothing whence he was taken, and the infinite in which he is engulfed."
          "What shall he do then, but discern somewhat of the middle of things in an eternal despair of knowing either their beginning or their end…?"
          "Let us know our limits: we are something, but we are not all. What existence we have conceals from us the knowledge of first principles which spring from the nothing, while the pettiness of that existence hides us from the sight of the infinite…."
           "Restricted in every way, this middle state between two extremes is common to all our weaknesses."
           "Our senses can perceive no extreme. Too much noise deafens us, excess of light blinds us, to great distance or nearness equally interfere with our vision, prolixity or brevity equally obscure a discourse, too much truth overwhelms us….."
            "In a word, all extremes are for us as though they were not; and we are not, in regard to them: they escape us, or we them."
            "This is our true state; this is what renders us incapable both of certain knowledge and of absolute ignorance. We sail on a vast expanse, ever uncertain, ever drifting, hurried from one to the other goal. If we think to attach ourselves firmly to any point, it totters and fails us; if we follow, it eludes our grasp, and flees us, vanishing forever. Nothing stays for us. This is our natural condition, yet always the most contrary to our inclination; we burn with desire to find a steadfast place and an ultimate fixed basis whereon we may build a tower to reach the infinite."
            "We may not then look for certainty or stability. Our reason is always deceived by changing shows, nothing can fix the finite between the two infinites, which at once enclose and fly from it….."
            "Were man to begin with the study of himself, he would see how incapable he is of proceeding further……"
            "Man is to himself the most marvelous object in Nature, for he cannot conceive what matter is, still less what is mind, and less than all how a material body should be united to a mind. This is the crown of all his difficulties, yet it is his very being."
***************

      Now, the authors of these last two excerpts have escaped me, but Misery of Man really sounds so much like the Zen I know. It seems to me to support the notion that there is a “truth” within man’s consciousness that ties us all together existentially, and clearly speaks to the One-ness we have so much trouble getting our mind around.

The Misery of Man
       We care nothing for the present. We anticipate the future as too slow in coming, as if we could make it move faster: or we call back the past, to stop its rapid flight. So imprudent are we that we wander through the times in which we have no part, unthinking of that which alone is ours: so frivolous are we that we dream of the days which are not, and pass by without reflection those which alone exist. For the present generally gives us pain; we conceal it from our sight because it afflict us, and if it be pleasant we regret to see it vanish away. We endeavor to sustain the present by the future, and think of arranging things not in our power, for a time at which we have no certainty of arriving.
        If we examine our thoughts, we shall find them always occupied with the past or the future. We scarcely think of the present, and if we do so, it is only that we may borrow light from it to direct the future. The present is never our end; the past and the present are our means, the future alone is our end. Thus we never live, but hope to live, and while we always lay ourselves out to be happy, it is inevitable that we can never be so.

 
      I also find this next paragraph a particularly well stated description of one aspect of the human condition. And we think we are so evolved…..like Pope said, we are, “the glory, jest, and riddle of the world.”
**(read the term "fain" as the archaic use, i.e. "glad, desirous, willing")

Of Self-love:

       "The nature of self-love and of this human “I” is to love self only, and consider self only. But what can it do? It cannot prevent the object it loves from being full of faults and miseries; man would fain be great and sees that he is little, would fain be happy, and sees that he is miserable, would fain be perfect, and sees that he is full of imperfections, would fain to be the object of love and esteem of men, and sees that his faults merit only their aversion and contempt. The embarrassment wherein he finds himself produces in him the most unjust and criminal passion imaginable, for he conceives a mortal hatred against that truth which blames him and convinces him of his faults. Desiring to annihilate it, yet unable to destroy it in its essence, he destroys it as much as he can in his own knowledge, and in that of others; that is to say, he devotes all his care to the concealment of his faults, both from others and from himself, and he can neither bear that others should show them to him, nor that they should see them."

On Dealing with Fear

      Most of my life has been riddled by an undercurrent of fear. As a kid I was always afraid of getting hurt or looking foolish, making mistakes or not doing something well. I can see where my parents, particularly my mother, stoked the fire of whatever that innate mechanism is that has always operated just below the surface. My antidote growing up was to either not take the risk - usually by finding some fault in the system and allowing my anger to be the buffer so I could distance myself from the object of my fears - or I just didn’t show up. I wasn’t willing to pay the price of admission to be part of the game and thereby sabotaged many possibilities as I grew up. Instead I lived in the world of illusion where I was king.
      When I first read about the teachings of the Buddha I found what felt like an antidote to this suffering, though at the time it manifested as an intellectual hook that slowly pulled me in. Today many of the fears that were ignited throughout my youth have been extinguished, though I sometimes wonder how much age and experience has been involved in that change. Either way however, the solace I have found in Buddhist philosophy and Zen writings act as a gyroscope for maintaining direction on my spiritual path.
      Today, the place to begin whenever I am again moving into that dark place where anxiety, doubt, and apprehension reign, is in my body. This is where I first recognize that dark thoughts are beginning to swirl overhead. The tensing of the muscles in my hands or jaw, a sickly sort of stuttering in my solar plexus, and sometimes moisture forming on my forehead or in the palms of my hands, are all early warning signs that a storm of recriminations or dark imaginings are gearing up for a deluge of monsoon proportions.
      Today these early warning signs allow me to begin to focus my attention on the fact that the feelings are just reactions to thoughts. I then work at seeing their origin. I often find that they will start with something as innocuous as a simple, undefined awareness of sense contact; perhaps, an itch, the warmth of the sun on my head, a cool breeze or it might be something that someone said, or just a random thought or memory. It doesn’t have to be connected to anyone or any thing specifically. It can be just an instant of contact, physical, or mental, and from it there arises ever so quickly, an entire dialogue or story that grows like the clouds of a summer thunderstorm over the western prairie.
      Recognizing that this complex of reactions does not point to facts or represent some truth in my life is no small accomplishment. To be able to see and deeply recognize that they are simply conditions that arise when other necessary conditions are present, may on the one hand seem quite obvious and simplistic, and on the other hand seem like they would be of little practical value when the juices of fear begin to surge through our veins. However, it is very important that I see this clearly. If not I will couch the growing soliloquy in the role of false prophet; I will grant the ephemeral voice within, the power of truth and power in my life. Be that as it may, the battle has just begun.
       I must follow then by taking back control of my breathing and soften those areas of tension. This entire process takes place within the boundaries of my body not outside in the world, so it is important to maintain awareness that “all conditioned things are subject to arising and passing away.” If I am able to relax my body and hold fast to the ephemeral nature of these thoughts and fears, I find that my thinking slows down and the fear dissipates. I have found that I will acquire relief in direct proportion to the degree to which I do not cling to thoughts and feelings as representing anything substantial.
       If I find myself in a situation where there is an imminent threat I must act. I don’t have time to ponder outcomes; I need to fight, flight, or call for help. In this instance fear is my friend; an ally in my continued survival. But when I am frozen by fearful ruminations or dark imaginings my life is being usurped by my mind. I have found that the most difficult fear to deal with is the one that is accompanied by, or perhaps arises out of actual physical pain. In this particular case the process of detachment is exacerbated by the physical experience and will color my ability to focus on releasing myself from the escalating fantasies of doom and gloom. The process is the same nevertheless, and points up the necessity to be practicing with all levels of thought, all the time. Attempting to disarm a bomb without training is suicide. If I don’t practice this process with the mundane aspects of living I will fail when the real test arises.
       When I relax into my growing awareness that time is just a convention which we have agreed upon, rather than something that has a substantial existence outside my mind - only then can I recall the freeing truth that - in this moment it is only fear itself that I must fear. Tomorrow will never be anything but an imagined place and all our tomorrows are held in the hands of today….now. Bringing awareness back to my body in this present moment is being in touch with what is real. To be dragged behind imagined possibilities in an unreal future, is to be held in a self imposed prison.

July 8, 2010

Working with Pain

      When I first began my meditation practiced I quickly found that the muscles in my back were not prepared for the stress of sitting erect for even short periods of time. The muscles would become stiff and I spent many miserable sessions in such pain that I could do little more than obsess over when the bell would ring. After a while it got better and I thought I had won the battle for peace. Then several years later I spent a year as the grounds/maintenance person at a meditation retreat center in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. This was a time of much learning, not the least of which was that there was more work to be done in terms of  pain.
      I lived with two other staff and we would sit three times a day for a total of 3 hours and this far exceeded my previous experience. The pain was back…with a vengeance. But today I can see that it has become one of my greatest teachers. I found that when the pain in my back became more intense than just a background irritation, I was able to name it as a "sensation" rather than pain. I then identified my reaction to it as "aversion" and this allowed me to catch myself before I moved, at which point I noted, "urge to move" which enabled me to stay put. In fact, I found that most of the time, I didn’t need to go to the "urge to move" awareness because the sensation would change. Sometimes it seemed to disappear, or at least dissipate, when I called it a "sensation" and identifiied my reaction as "aversion."  I would repeat this each time a physical sensation grabbed my attention and in this way the pain became a way to increase my concentration instead of causing me to be distracted.
      At some point when this process failed to give me much more than a few seconds relief  and the intensity of the discomfort increased, I would silently note "intention to move" and allow time to see if anything changed. If it didn't, I would mentally go through the whole list again from "sensation" through "intention to move," making sure my body was as relaxed as possible. I followed with several breaths, and noted "moving," and very slowly adjusted my posture. The adjustment was made in the smallest of increments with much mindfulness; just enough to soften the intensity of the sensation and then begin the series once again as necessary.   
      I have come to realize that all my reactions to sensory experiences during meditation follow this same process. I have a feeling or thought and it falls into one of three categories: Good, Bad, or Neutral. If it's good then I am desirous of it; I crave or grasp after it forming an attachment. If it is bad then I have an aversion toward it and try to push it away, or involve some manner of avoidance. I was able to see numerous times where I would, without thought, change my breathing in response to the sensations before I could catch myself. As I became aware of this habit earlier in the process, I simply started to note my intention to do so before I reacted. Being mindful of the action rather than habitually re-acting became the goal. I was able to stay focused for a longer time doing this and began to work more often identfiying different experiences in terms of my attraction or aversion to them.
      I wish I could say I came to these realizations because of my own wisdom. However, in truth it was because of suggestions given by one of the teachers at the meditation center. He said there is the stage in the Buddhist teaching of Dependent Arising called "becoming" which he defined as a posture that arises from our reactions of craving or aversion. And if we react to our thoughts or feelings in either of these ways, then we "give birth" to the ego. We reinforce a habit-energy that becomes a condition for the arising of other habituated responses in the Dependent Arising process. Each step in that process makes up what are referred to as hindrances to awakening or "kleshas." The Buddhist sutras point out that Ignorance is not realizing this process. What was illuminating as well, was when the teacher pointed out that each time we resist the act that leads to the reinforcement of our habit energies, we slowly kill the habit and the roots of the habit will dry up.

July 7, 2010

Equanimity

Compassion needs equanimity not self righteous anger which is actually an aversion and an avoidance reaction.

July 6, 2010

Dependent Arising and Conceptual Proliferation

      One of the first things we realize when we begin a meditation practice is that our minds are a veritable thought factory running out of control. The term we use for it is “monkey mind” because it chatters incessantly as it wildly leaps from one ideational branch to another. In the process of taming this monkey-mind so that we can find some degree of peace during our meditation, we also find that we are able to acquire an ability to slowly nudge this natural process in the direction of spiritual growth.
      One way to accomplish this is to reflect on the manner in which these thoughts, scenarios, fears, or judgmental monologues arise in our mind; to investigate their origin. When we realize that our attention has strayed from the breath or our chosen object of concentration, we stop the process and note that we have strayed from our intended subject. We try to follow the path backwards to locate what it was that had ignited the engine of our now derailed train of thought. A simple sequence that has been helpful to me is as follows.
      Initially there is Sensory Contact: the simple sensation created by contact between our sense receptors (eyes, ears, nose, tongue and receptors on the skin, and sometimes the intrusion of a thought into the mind). It might have arisen as an ache in some part of the body, or we might have experienced a new sound, or smell.
      Secondly, there is Feeling with regard to this sensory intrusion. In this regard we are referring to feeling, not as emotion, but rather as the perception of a felt quality of pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral. Other general words we might use to denote the meaning of feeling in this context are attraction/aversion/neutrality.
      Third in our sequence is Naming. Here the capacity for more subtle discrimination begins wherein we might label or categorize it in broad terms of such dichotomies as hot/cold, or bitter/sweet.
      The fourth step is Thinking where we recognize in more specific conceptual terms, a brief framing of the experience such as the water is hot or the chocolate is bitter.
      And finally the monkey emerges in full force with what Ajahn Amaro calls Conceptual Proliferation. The minds starts to run in ever widening circles creating scenarios, stories, or just ongoing chatter that can change from one subject to another. It is here that the mind strengthens the idea that there is a “me” having this experience and that there is an “I” in opposition to the world which reinforces a sense of tension and dissatisfaction with life. Perhaps one such proliferation might go like this: “why does the landlord have that water heater turned up so high. Someone could get scalded, like a baby, damn I ought to report him. But then he’d probably hike my rent or throw me out and then I’d be homeless.” And then perhaps another sense contact might arise in my stomach or throat from the fear around the thought of being put out on the street. And thus a new avenue of conceptual proliferation begins to take my mind further and further away from the truth embodied in being mindful of my present experience as it is – a sensation.
      This simple guide for reflecting on a train of distractions during meditation, often of a seemingly mysterious origin, has been valuable in helping me see the germ of the proliferation that arises in reaction to visceral experiences. Let me offer a personal experience as an example. It was during the second 30 minute session during a half-day meditation when I recognized that I had been distracted from my breathing and was carrying on a conceptual conversation within my mind. My hands and back muscles were tight, but I was able to stop the process of increasing tension, and followed the arising of this condition back to its source. This is what I realized had taken place in a very short moment.
      Sense Contact: I experienced a sensation inside my ear.
      Feeling: It was aversive, unsatisfactory, unpleasant.
      Naming: I identified it was an itch and
      Thinking: It is not unlike the dry skin itch for which I have drops.
      Conceptual Proliferation: I thought about the first time I went to a clinic for an ear ache and they flushed out my ear with water. It hurt. I then recalled having gone to the specialist who ultimately provided me with the drops and recalled a conversation where I mentioned trying to be careful in removing unwanted ear hair. Then the self-conversation changed the scenario into how she might get a hair out of the ear canal with tweezers; the need to keep still so as to avoid puncturing the eardrum; needing to lie on my side on the exam table; then an added safety measure of having nurse hold my head still. But I still might jerk suddenly, I told myself, when the doctor extracted the hair. But how would she do that exactly; slowly, in increments, or quickly with one swift yank. At this point I felt a queasy feeling in my stomach and I realized where I had gone. At this point I realized I was distracted and was then able to follow the steps backwards to that moment of sensation in my ear; noting of course, that it was gone.

You Make me Feel......

      It is quite obvious that when I interact and talk with people, I can learn about them. But it is observed less often that I can also learn about myself. Today I can see that when I have reactions to what people say or do, while it does say something about them, more importantly it is a window into myself. In the same way that no one can make us angry, they cannot make us have feelings that we are not already prone to feel. When I sense someone is kind, compassionate, or loving, I am at the same time tapping into my own abilities to have these feelings. In the past if I felt love or compassion in the presence of another I would likely attribute these feelings in me as coming from them. Do we not often attribute our capacity to love another as originating in them, as though we need them to be able to love? The words to a song come to mind; "You made me love you." Many of us tend to give credit for our good qualities to the influence of those around us, while we are always eager to take full credit for our negative feelings.
      Yet when my friend would become energized and almost tearful when talking about how she loved and respected her teacher, I responded to that with similar, if not identical, feelings toward her because it is also within me to feel this way. Too often we lose sight of this and can get into a place where we believe that in order for us to love or feel joy, we need that other person to be present in our lives. We can be obsessed with people, places, and things when we believe our feelings are coming from our association with them. This is the beginning of dependency and is not at all accurate. A person may be a mirror or conduit for my qualities to come the surface but what is not there to begin with, cannot be brought forth by another….be that love or rage.

So Why Should I Meditate?

      Meditation offers a window into my everyday world to which I am otherwise oblivious. I realized after many hours on the cushion that all manner of insights are the direct result of those boring sessions when I didn't want to do it but did it anyway. The times when it seemed like all I could do is wonder why in the world I'm doing it became led to a flash of insight, or a brief but sudden moment of enlightenment on a problem that had previously baffled me. I was forced to admit that knowing ‘why’ is far less important than just being open and present to each moment with a spacious awareness. Exciting!
      I recognized at some point, that by repeating my Fear-Judgment-Anger mantra in meditation, I became more “spacious” in my thinking. I was then able to see the world differently when my mind was not cluttered with anger, fear, and judgment. It suddenly made sense that a spacious mind is one that has a wider vision because it is not crowded with imaginings, feelings, or judgments.
      I began to see that all things - everything - arises out of conditions and passes away. Wanting/grasping, fear/aversion, are all nothing but mental objects of awareness, so I should not make them personal. One day while meditating on a bench in the middle of the woods I experienced a revealing moment. I was sitting, eyes closed and following the breath when the wind came up with enough force to push my upper body back, and it made an ominous sound as it rushed through the trees. I was aware of the physical sensation of agitation that seemed to quiver through my body from the top of my head to my toes and recognized it as that of fear. But rather than enter into a dialogue with myself about this object of my awareness, I just recognized it as “fear”, as an object arising in my mind, and not my fear which, when named and experienced as such, requires me to react to it as a threat. I noted that the fear subsided almost immediately when I did not entertain it with thoughts of “what is it? “What should I do?” or open my eyes and try to see the nature of the threat.
      This experience translated nicely into the insight that when things come up like anger, fear, or any idea within the mind, I need only remind myself not to personalize it. They are just fleeting clouds which naturally arise from other causes and conditions, and I need to do no more than pay attention to them, and watch them recede into oblivion as easily, and as they arrived. I now also find that if I will just note it and return to the breath, I am able to work with physical pain in this manner as well.
      To quote again the words of Alexander Pope, “Presume not God to scan, the proper study of mankind is man.” It is through looking into ourselves rather than out into the world that we are able to grow. The job is never really completed because there is always more that the universe will teach us. And it seems a fact today that it will always give us exactly what we need to further our practice..…always! It also reinforces for me, the need to continue to meditate and to take my practice to the next level, whatever that may be. The path is always in front of me in this moment. And through my meditation practice I have come to believe that whatever arises in my awareness is exactly what I need at that moment. There really is never a moment when what I am experiencing is just some extraneous thing impinging on my real life. It is all my real life from moment to moment – just as it is. That has become such a liberating thought for me. It brings up tears, not of sadness or frustration, but of joy. Everything is as it should be……because it is so.