Posted: March 22nd, 2014 | No Comments »
As the year 2014 approached, I thought what am I going to do now?
The previous year, 2013, I focused on deepening my meditation practice and contentment. I tempered my ambitious career goals, did not look to date anyone, traveled very little, and lived a boring, routine lifestyle.
The mystic Osho once said,
…to be real is always difficult. To live with a wife and to be happy is really difficult; to live with children and to be blissful is really difficult. To work in a shop, in an office, in a factory and to be ecstatic is the real difficulty. To leave everything and just sit under a tree and feel happy is not difficult — anybody will feel that way. Nothing to do, you can be detached; everything to do, you become attached. But when you do everything AND remain unattached, when you move with the crowd, in the world and yet alone, then something real is happening.
The true challenge is not going off to a retreat center to gain some insight. Doing so can be a valid path, but it would be escapist for me right now. The challenge is living a full, mindful life. Last year, I drastically simplified my life to see if I could be mindful and content again. For the most part, I succeeded. Now, I want to address those big challenges again of livelihood, relationships, and health.
I’m uncertain how or if it is possible to be both ambitious and content? Will I fall back into cynicism, hopelessness, and judgment? Every time I’ve returned from a retreat, my old habits always crept back in and overpowered me in the most important emotional moments.
Is it just a matter of patience and more practice? Or something else? Over the months, I’ve been mulling over this question and asking others.
In December, I did a weekend retreat at the Cambridge Zen Center with Master Bon Shim. During our private interview period, I posed a question:
Me: You said before that even enlightened individuals still have conditioning, a conditioned ego?
Master Bon Shim: That’s correct. Even after realization, there is karma. Enlightened does not mean perfection. Masters still make mistakes, still get things wrong.
Me: So, is meditation enough then? Can meditation, by itself, unravel or undo or burn through all karma, all conditioning?
Master Bon Shim: Well, there is the example of Siddhartha, the Buddha, who reached complete nirvana, complete awakening….
In general though, too many students have this “checking mind”, of constantly evaluating their teacher. This is not so good. Clearly, there are some bad teachers, and you should be careful of abuses. But, this “checking mind” that’s looking to find a perfect teacher or faulting good teachers for not being perfect is not good.
(paraphrased from memory, my apologies to Master Bon Shim if any of this is incorrect)
Although I gained a lot from our interviews together and that weekend in general, I felt dissatisfied with the answer.
A Heart Blown Open Book
I keep thinking back to a book where American teachers question the Dalai Lama on explaining how it is possible senior teachers make such grievous mistakes:
A dozen Western Buddhist masters, from many different backgrounds, were brought to India to participate in the conference. They sat in an audience, with His Holiness on stage taking their questions. Kelly was near the front, and he listened as one of the American teachers brought up a troubling question: A high ranking Tibetan teacher had gotten into trouble for sleeping with some of his female students, and had been sued and forced into a kind of hiding from the uproar he had caused.
"How do you explain his behavior, your Holiness," the questioner asked, perhaps hoping for a psychological explanation. The Dalai Lama, smiling, leaned forward.
"The problem," he said, gently, "is that their insight is not deep enough. When the insight of your true nature is deep enough, it transforms all parts of us, so that Basic Goodness and compassion naturally and effortlessly arise. This prevents the kind of deluded behavior we see with him." He sat back.
Kelly, incredulous, waited for someone to challenge the statement. He raised his own hand and the Dalai Lama pointed to him.
"Your Holiness," Kelly offered, "may I use a word here?"
"Please," came the answer.
"Bullshit," Kelly dropped, and a collective gasp went up from the audience…
The Dalai Lama chuckled.
"I know this man we’re speaking of," Kelly continued. "He took three three-year cave retreats where he saw only his master and lived in the wilderness with no power, no heat, no bed. That’s nine years of the most intensive monastic training. He trained with you, your Holiness, for a decade. And he spent another decade training in the States. This man trained for thirty years, and you’re telling me his insight isn’t deep enough? I’ve met him, I’ve talked to him. I’ve practiced with him, and I’m telling you, that explanation is, with all due respect, bullshit, your Holiness."
Kelly sat back, smiling. The Dalai Lama nodded his had and chuckled again, his eyes shimmering behind the thick lenses of his glasses.
"That is because your insight isn’t deep enough," he said with a kind-hearted smile.
Kelly’s mouth popped open. As the Dalai Lama waited patiently for Kelly to respond, he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. (p275-6)
Reading this passage was really exciting to me. Here was a teacher that asked the scary questions. If dedicated meditation for decades was not enough then what’s the point?
It would be easy to say the Tibetan teacher who took advantage of his students was a fraud,. The scarier truth is that maybe he was truly awakened AND still wrongly took advantage of his own students. That even the highest among meditation masters are capable of human faults and mistakes. As Zen Master Bon Shim said, even enlightened people still have their habitual conditioning remaining.
Therefore, is a high level of insight, of seeing into the fabric of reality is not enough, not sufficient to living a good householder life, to transforming one’s ego and habits?
To some degree, I worry I am doing what Zen Master Bon Shim said. “Checking mind” and wanting perfection from my teachers and myself. Yet, there is this doubt that perhaps my practice could be improved, that there was something I was missing.
Junpo also shares similar doubts. Despite his practice and experience, despite having received transmission from his teacher, Junpo says:
The years of meditation had created a stillness in his mind that made seeing what arose there easier. In the quiet he could sit with his arising impulses, emotions, and thoughts. For most of us, we react to life — someone cuts us off in traffic, and we get angry right away…Our reactions are conditioned, meaning that for most of us we don’t notice that the energy of the emotion must first arise, and then we have to react to it. That we could, in fact, choose a different reaction if we could slow the whole process down.
Kelly, because of his insights and quietness of mind, had greater freedom to choose his reactions, but he had little understanding why those particular impulses arose within him in the first place. Perhaps, the difference was cultural or perhaps it was indeed because his insight wasn’t deep enough, but Kelly did not agree with Dalai Lama. His Holiness, after all, ha had lived in the rigid container of a monastery for his entire life, and was a man who had taken a monk’s vows of celibacy. In Kelly’s experience, it was intimate relationships that were the most likely to activate one’s old conditioned patterns and allow for the emergence of emotional energy that one would never encounter in a monastery. (277)
My frustration and seeking stemmed from this tension of insight and ego. I could go off to a retreat and experience absolutely beautiful moments of truth and reality. I would experience the joy of simply being alive where the sound of my breathe is music, and the work of ants is a symphony. And after all that, I return home to find my old habits and emotional triggers return. My relative, ego life remained buried in my subconscious.
The book continues
…he saw that the path to true freedom had to hold both truths as real. There was a small, conditioned ego that could impede every part of your life, especially your spiritual insight. Worse, it could deeply distort spiritual insight with its neurosis and pathology. But there was also the Absolute, the ground of being where Kelly had taken his seat. They were both true, in every person – a relative, temporal, and finite ego that would blink out of existence a few decades after it became self-aware, and an immortal, timeless, an utterly imperturbable deeper self that did not come and go….both of them needed to be integrated for true insight, true wisdom, true freedom….
…And spiritual teachers, likewise, were often some of the most neurotic people out there. Many…wanted to simply get away from their small, broken selves, as if becoming Enlightened or Awake or one with Christos or God would somehow magically fix all the broken parts of their smaller self. As if one ever transcended the ego. One did not – insight came through an ego, always, never around one. (280-1)
Here was the crux of the problem. I had often focused only on the spiritual insight path OR on the self-improvement ego path; switching between the two but never integrating them together. My meditation practice and my regular life felt like opposites to me.
It was only after I started doing therapy that I realized the bridge between these two worlds was my emotions. I realized just how much of my own emotions I was avoiding. How judgmental and hopeless I often felt about myself. Somewhere in my early meditation practice (and really just my early adult life), I got the mistaken belief that emotions are not a valid object of meditation but a distraction.
So much of beginning meditation is focused on setting up pristine, peaceful environments to practice because it can be so difficult to even be mindful with positive feelings and places.
However, reality is not so kind. It provides whatever arises whether that’s joy or pain. The mistake is judging a painful moment to be not suitable for meditation and that one should solely focus on the breathe. Or, judging one’s self for feeling pain or suffering and thinking meditation should “fix” this illusory pain. Expecting to stay with the breathe in all those charged moments though is ridiculous. Instead, staying present with those emotions, with those situations and seeing them as they are is the true challenge. Getting to the core of experience and emotion to see the world and one’s self without filter. Going through the emotion is the meeting point between meditation and daily life.
Likewise Junpo writes:
Doshin nodded. “Not much point to spiritual insight if you don’t understand your emotions at a core level.”
Kelly nodded. “How many times have awakened teachers screwed up because of something emotional? An affair? A flash of rage? Addiction?
Doshin nodded again.
"We need to create koans centered around emotions, koans that train us to transform negative emotions within our awakened minds. Therapy and shadow work ain’t enough. Meditation isn’t enough. The stronger the emotion — depression, anger, anxiety, lust, jealousy — the more fuel there is to drive us to our true nature, to wake the fuck up." (304)
Often, meditation is presented as a way to feel less stress and be more productive. Yet, there seems to be so much chaos in one’s mind when meditating. In reality, those feelings and thoughts have always been there, but our lives move so quickly we don’t even pay attention.
In fact, I dare say we subconsciously want to both be distracted and be present. There is a part of us that fears the doubt, pain, and chaos within ourselves and thereby wants our smart phones, our social media, everything to keep us distracted. On the other hand, there is the genuine side of us that regrets the lack of connection, the lack of presence in our lives..
I’ve meditated for several years. Despite knowing better, I thought I could meditate my way out of feeling negative things. I could somehow be aloft, above and beyond such small, relative ego problems. The truth is that you can never go around problems, you can only go through them.
It is very difficult to just be with difficult emotions, people, and situations. The natural instinct is to fight, flee, or fix. One lesson that has helped me tremendously though is that by being present with a difficult experience, I can unpack what is going on. I can see that underneath the anger is fear. Underneath the fear is a great caring. While it is easy to get judgmental about myself being angry, once I can see its source is a great caring then I can be compassionate to myself, I can see things as they are. Likewise, I can be very judgmental about others based on their surface actions and speech, but can be compassionate once I feel the source of those actions in their actual core emotions, their core needs
One of the things Mondo Zen seems to be doing is intentionally triggering those intensive emotions to have a safe place to mindfully look into those charged emotions.
As a next step, I’m also looking to start a Dharma House. At its core, the house is a place where we live together in supporting each other’s practice. In terms of everyday life though, it’s an intentional, safe home where our egos come into contact, and we willingly stay present in that charged situation so that we may learn to communicate in a mindful way. It’s a practice I’m not sure many of us ever get to consistently try except with our spouses and maybe business partners.
Finally, I’ll end with what Junpo has to say about the Dalai Lama’s insight is not enough response:
"I’m curious what you think now about what the Dalai Lama said to you a decade ago. How it relates to this."
"That my realization wasn’t deep enough?" Kelly asked, laughing. "He was right."
"But I’m curious what you think about the idea of what he said. That if one’s realization is deep enough, it transforms all of his being, and there is no need for psychological shadow work."
Kelly considered. His lips drew in and his eyes momentarily turned inward. "He was right," he said at last. "If you realization is deep enough, it transforms the entirety of the human being."
"But there are only a handful of people on the planet who wake up that completely. For the rest of us, it’s a process that our shadows interfere with. But completely Awake, Doshin, is completely awake." (305)
Is meditation enough? Yes. But, only if I can apply mindfulness in all situations including those I most want to avoid and run from. The traditional meditation center and teachings don’t have all the answers, it’s up to us to find our ways to train mindfulness into our everyday life.
One day I hope we can all completely wake up. In the meantime, I continue seeking ways to deepen my practice on and off the cushion, inside and outside the meditation center.
A Heart Blown Open: The Life and Practice of Zen Master Jun Po Dennis Kelly Roshi by Keith Martin-Smith is an amazing book and highly recommended even if you’re not into meditation. Kelly lived a most extraordinary life having experienced the wholeness of life from drugs, sex, and wealth to abusive father, cancer, and prison. I’ve read the book two or three times now.
I did not include more information on his emotional koan process as this post was already too long. I also have no personal experience with the koans, but I’m hoping to do a Mondo Zen retreat later in the year.
This post was exceedingly difficult to write. I have several drafts approaching it from many different angles, but all of them addressing how to integrate mindfulness and daily life better. Part of me feels like this is a “no-duh”, that’s so obvious life insight, but I don’t know, it means a lot to me.
Photo is from a mountain hiking trip I did last month, beautiful weather and scenery
Posted: January 6th, 2014 | No Comments »
My last piece, A Letter To My 22 Year Old Self, received nice comments. However, some folks were worried about my emotional health.
In response, I’ve been pondering, am I actually depressed? And what happens when you are so radical honesty in public?
Four years ago, I started this blog writing:
Welcome to my virtual home! This is a lifelong experiment to living transparently.
Putting yourself public on the internet goes against the norm unless you’re a celebrity, own a web business, or insane. After all, what about those drunken picture from St. Patty’s bar crawl where you’re passed out on the street at 2pm? We can’t let others find out!
Sure, there will be negative consequences, but in the end, I take responsibility for my actions and not trying to please everyone. Besides, my friends know I’m a little nutty.
If I was to be totally honest (eh? eh?), my early posts sucked in terms of honesty. For example my RV stories had an element of bravado even with the negative stories like getting robbed. I was “fronting” or crafting a false “personal brand”.
I started thinking about this topic after reading James Altucher, who has a great post entitled 7 Things Happen to You When You Are Completely Honest:
People confuse “honesty” with a type of “happiness”. He can be honest because he is happy. But it’s not true. Life is a series of failures punctuated by brief successes. That’s honesty. Failure is not necessarily bad. It’s reality.
But branding tries to reverse that. With a “personal brand”, you suddenly pretend to be super successful, a “businesswoman” in Kardashian’s case – failure is non-existent, and out of your mind comes the exact mathematical formulas that if someone drinks your Cola and snorts your Ecstasy then they too will have the pretty girl, the success, the money, the accoutrements.
Honesty is about the scars. it’s about the blemishes. But it’s more than just bragging about failure, which could be a form of ego. It’s about truly helping people.
Funny. I have heard and have voiced the same opinion in different ways. Like, it’s easy to not worry about money when you’re rich. Or it’s easy to not care about your appearance when you’re beautiful. Likewise, it’s easy to be honest when you’re just full of good stories and joy.
Yet, the past year brought forth my most honest writing as I wrote about my broken dreams, doubts, and past failures like
Confessions of a Failed Internet Hustler - Part 1. Not surprisingly that last year, I published the least number of pieces, often with months of silence.
After all, who wants to read about another person’s problems? One of my friends jokingly says she vicariously lives through me with my years of random projects and travels. So I can see how folks worried about me when my writing turned from goals and dreams to struggles and sorrows.
Further in the same article, James writes:
WHAT WILL HONESTY GET YOU?
#2 PEOPLE WILL THINK YOU ARE GOING TO KILL YOURSELF
The next thing that will happen is people will ask “are you killing yourself?” Because every blog post almost seems like a suicide note.
#3 PEOPLE WILL THINK YOU ARE CRAZY
Then people will send emails to your friends, “is he as crazy as he sounds?” And that’s how I make friends now because introductions will be made and people will have to find out for themselves.
#4 PEOPLE WILL GET FRIGHTENED
So they will call you names. Oh, that guy is just trying to be a “contrarian”, for instance. Or an “idiot”. Or worse. I’ve been called everything. I had to call the Brown University Public Safety office the other day because I got emailed a death threat and the guy didn’t think I could track him. The guy was a senior and had also apparently threatened the life of a librarian there.
They need to understand why you are telling the truth. Why you are being honest about what you really think. In meetings at the office everyone is quiet. You’re not supposed to speak up. So people will dislike you, try to put you down, post comments, whatever.
After reading his post, I laughed.
No, I’m not going to kill myself.
Despite my writing, I actually feel physically, mentally, and spiritually better than ever.
Not to say I have solved my life. I still have most of the same anxieties, doubts, fears, self-judgments, resentments, emotional triggers, and so on. And yet, I am feeling better. But how can I still feel the same things yet feel different about them?
How do I figure out this dichotomy? How do I make sense of where I am now?
Thinking of this dilemma, I I remembered a story from Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life With The Heart of A Buddha by Dr. Tara Brach.
Fearing she might harm herself, Marian sought counsel from an elderly Jesuit priest who had been one of her teachers in college. Crying, she collapsed in the overstuffed chair he offered. “Please, please help me,” she pleaded. He listened to her story and sat quietly with her as she wept. When she calmed down, he gently took one of her hands and began drawing a circle in the center of her palm. “This,” he said, “is where you are living. It is painful– a place of kicking and screaming and deep, deep hurt. This place cannot be avoided, let it be.”
Then he covered her whole hand with his. “But if you can,” he went on, “try also to remember this. There is a greatness, a wholeness that is the kingdom of God, and in this merciful space, your immediate life can unfold. This pain,” and he again touched the center of her palm, “is held always in God’s love. As you know both the pain and the love, your wounds will heal.” (207)
I still feel many of the same, negative emotions. However, I don’t identify so dearly with them anymore. My entire life takes place in a larger wholeness, a larger context of spaciness.
I have a deeper trust, born out of experience, that whatever joys or sorrows arising are just fragments of a larger life to be acknowledged, accepted, appreciated and let be.
And those negative feelings that used to hang over me like a cloud for hours or days? Now, they last typically seconds, minutes, and yeah sometimes, hours. The difference is cutting off the judgments on top of judgments. And it’s not because I’m pushing the negativity away, but because I can see each experience’s proper significance and not overreact.
I’ll end with James’ last piece on what honesty brings:
#7 YOU BECOME FREE
At first we hug our boundaries in chains. We think “if we tell the girl we like her, she might not like me back”. We think, “If I say I like this candidate, my friends might hate me.” If I say X, everyone else might say Y. And so on. But more and more we start to feel where those boundaries are and we push them out. We push them further and further away from ourselves. Until finally they are so far away it’s as if they don’t exist at all. You don’t need money for that. Or a big house. Or a fancy degree or car. Every day, just push out those boundaries a little further.
We reach for that freedom. We never truly get there. We’re always striving to see how far they can go, just like a little child with her parents. But eventually, the boundaries are so far away we begin to feel the pleasures of true freedom.
And it feels good.
You’re right James. it feel good…even when it feels terrible.
* Photo is actually from my RV cross country trip at the living roof top of San Francisco’s California Academy of Sciences.
* Radical Acceptance by Tara Brach is one of the best books I read this year. I came across Tara nearly five years ago in her Washington DC sangha but finally read her book this year.
* James Altucher is a very interesting fellow, I don’t agree with everything he writes, but his life is pretty fascinating.
* I should preface every statement in this piece with “most times” and “usually” but that usually sounds terrible most of the time.
Posted: December 17th, 2013 | 5 Comments »
It’s me, your future self from five years ahead.
Honestly, I’m not sure you should or could make any different decisions than I already did. But, I can at least tell you that it’s okay that you feel so lost right now and tell you what’s coming ahead in the next few years. You’re going to lose your way, but you’ll also find your way back.
I know you’re having a difficult time. You’re living in a big city with few friends. You’re really distraught over graduate school. You never read Aristotle, Augustine, or Aquinas. That’s why you’re having a tough time following your philosophy peers using words like Being and Reason. It’s not your fault. You spent your college years programming and reading the Bhagavad Gita, Dao De Jing, and Lotus Sutra.
You’re going to realize you have no future in a Ph D program. It’s going to hurt. You’re going to lose trust not only in academia and larger institutions but also in yourself, in your emotions, in your decision making.
As a result, you’re going to attempt to become the ideal, self-made man.
Over the next year:
* You’re going to start going to the gym to lift weights.
* You’re going to read Tim Ferriss’ 4-Hour Workweek and be inspired to become an entrepreneur.
* You’re going to join the pickup community and try to meet beautiful women in the worst locations of night clubs and street corners.
* You’re even going to buy an RV with the idea of traveling and living cross country.
You’re going to keep doing these things for years.
It depends on perspective, it’s not all bad.
But, you’re going to fail repeatedly. Again. Again. And Again.
* You’ll make hundreds of dollar in internet marketing, but you’ll also lose thousands of dollars more.
* You’ll gain a few pounds of muscle before you quit after a few months. Then, you’ll try it again with renewed determination.
* You’ll go on a few dates with girls you met in bars and even on the street. Hell, you’ll even lose your virginity. But, that nagging feeling of inferiority and insecurity will sabotage any potential relationship. Not to mention, you’re looking for girls in all the wrong places.
* You’ll move to Florida where you make some incredible friends and join a meditation community (sangha) for the first time. But, then, you’ll get robbed and leave.
* You’ll discover your first true love in Boulder, Colorado and afterwards spend a year of heartbreak that it couldn’t be.
* You’ll finally drive your RV cross country to Portland. …where you’ll get robbed again. You’ll accept it with an open heart. But, the next day, you’ll discover your transmission is dead. And then you will break down into tears and despair. Not so much because you were in love with that transmission but because it represents jut how broken your dreams and goals were in the first place.
* You’ll lose $300 playing poker in the Bellagio in Las Vegas and hide out in your hotel room for a week programming your first, successful web application.
* This will lead you to believe you could startup a web business. You’ll cold call businesses and knock on doors asking for a hour to chat.
And after all this?
You’ll move to Boston to live with one of your best friends from college along with other best friends in the area.
Initially, you’ll be a broken man without any more goals or delusions.
You know, I just realized that I shouldn’t speak for you so much. Sorry about that, let me just say what happened for me then.
I definitely felt like a broken man. Every goal I set since your age having not come to fruition. I felt cursed like I couldn’t change. That I would always be that poor, skinny, and lonely kid back in high school.
But, at this lowest of moments, in the dark, terrible Boston winter, is when I was ready to find my way back.
Remember, that 21 year old version of us? The one who just came off of a ten day vipassana meditation retreat in Shelburne Falls? His eyes were so bright and clear, he knew the truth but didn’t yet know how to integrate that into his daily life. And that’s why I did all these things, trying to learn how to thrive in this world.
About a year ago, I started going to the Shambhala Center. Early on, I had a talk with Nick, my newest and closest dharma teacher. I told him, "I can’t tell anymore what is my inmost request and what are just my unintelligent, instinctual reactions or social conditioning anymore." I knew at that moment that I had lost my way.
This past spring, I started seeing a holistic therapist. I’ll tell him things I’ve never said to another human being. He keeps telling me to allow the feelings in, to listen to them, and accept them. I start listening and then feeling and eventually accepting myself.
In the past summer, I went to a full week Shambhala retreat in Vermont where I bared my soul to a crowded room about having felt a lifetime of inadequate, inferiority, of not being enough for others. There was so much confusion, pain, and sadness back then.
Now, this past weekend, I did another Shambhala meditation retreat in Shelburne Falls where I had first meditated and found my path all those years ago.
But, this time, I didn’t cry. I didn’t feel so confused or sad. I was mystified at first wondering if I was suppressing an emotion. But, no. There was only compassion and joy. I finished the retreat surprised that unlike previous retreats, I didn’t feel very sad that I was leaving. Nor did I look at my meditation peers hoping we would be best friends afterwards.
I think you’ll get here one day too. I don’t know if there are any shortcuts. I’m tempted to give you advice:
Don’t do internet marketing. Don’t buy that RV. Don’t get involved with those pickup people.
Do exercise with a barbell instead. Do get a regular programming job. Do meditate with a sangha.
But most importantly, do learn to accept and appreciate all the small moments.
But, the truth is, I don’t think you would believe me.
Besides, despite all those failures, it was all good feedback. Now, I’m never ever going to be tempted again with shortcuts. I won’t always be thinking, “maybe if I just ___ then everything will be alright.” I tried that path of pure willpower without emotion. Now, I’m never going to stray from my path because I can feel it right here, right now in my center.
I keep using the word failure. But it’s not like any of those experiences were wrong in themselves. The only failure was that I wasn’t listening to myself, to my emotions, to my experience. I wasn’t trusting myself. Otherwise, they were a lot of adventuresome, great experiences, but they came about from a need to overcompensate and be someone else.
Learn to trust yourself, trust in your center. A lot of your instincts turned out true. Mindfulness is the hottest topic now. Video games are a bigger industry than films. Web development jobs have equal or higher salaries than engineers. You were just ahead of your time.
You don’t need anyone’s permission or have to become special in order to start living a genuine, sincere life right now, right here.
Your Future Self
Posted: December 1st, 2013 | No Comments »
I completed my November month of meditation having only missed one day. Half the time it was with a group, and the other half by myself at home. Typically, by myself, I meditated for 45 minutes before going to sleep.
Have I transformed? It’s hard to say. Especially because I don’t want to make meditation into yet another project. Sitting on my cushion is the one time that I devote entirely to the present moment, to just being with myself. I want to say that I daydream and worry less. That I have more daily moments of great peace and gratitude. While I still feel that infinite emptiness within myself, most times I don’t feel the urge anymore to run away from it, fix it, or think it’s a problem. I want to say that I’ve connected with people on a deeper level. It would be nice to have that kind of great certainty. But I have no idea if any of that occurred, and, if so, because of meditating….but definitely seems correlated.
The month was easier also since I did a weekend program at the Shambhala Center and started practicing at the Cambridge Insight Center as well. I’ll be spending a day at the Kwam Um Zen Center as well. I do very much prefer group practice.
This morning, while feeling encouraged by a full month of consistent practice, I was reading Turning the Mind into an Ally by Sakyong Mipham. The book mentions establishing a base of Shamatha practice or calm abiding meditation that’s a refuge. Meditation shouldn’t seem like a chore requiring white knuckled discipline to get through but an old friend you’re happy to see. I realized my practice, specifically when I practice alone, isn’t always like this. A lot of times my discursive thoughts get the better of me after twenty minutes or so. But what’s the difference between mediating with a group and by myself?
When I sit with others, I don’t have nearly as much difficulty with wanting to quit or getting bored. Besides the peer pressure/support, it’s the fact that I’m outside my home, away from my usual distractions. No computer to go browse the internet or a bed to go to sleep. I know when I go to the center, my only activity is to meditate.
So, I’m going to try cultivating more of the peaceful abiding and enjoying the meditation rather than seeking insight. progress. or measurement.
I will continue meditating daily in December. I also feel drawn to write a lot more about meditation and dharma these days so maybe more posts in the future.
Posted: November 1st, 2013 | No Comments »
Back in July, I did a week long meditation retreat. During the journey, I laid down directions for myself including the goal of meditating every day and to prioritizing only one new habit per month.
Close friends of mine probably know that I’ve spent years chasing after all kinds of goals, experiences, skills, and habits. But I’m starting over with a clear intention of not trying to fix myself or the world. But to do these things because I feel they are right and good for me.
In addition, the idea of public accountability was always appealing to me. I think the best way to start a habit is to do it with others. But having a public way of showing your progress, I hope, is almost as good.
Looking over the past two months, I’ve been slipping more and more. So, my goal for November is a solid 30 days of meditation. I suspect I’ll miss a few days here and there, but I want to be at least 24+ days.
I’ll be logging my progression here: