Archive for August, 2010

Oh, to look as peaceful and tranquil as Julia when I meditate...and to be able to sit in lotus position comfortably on concrete.

This is the first in a series of short articles about the subject of meditation that I plan to write.  Why write about meditation when there’s so much already out there on the Internet about this?  So many books? The only answer I could come up with is, “Because.”  Because I want to.  Because, perhaps, it will help me with my own practice.  Maybe it will even help someone else.  Maybe it’s just my egotistical self-promoting Leo side trying to find an outlet for my drive to write.  I asked, “Why not?”  but I was able to answer that:  I am not an ordained anything.  I am not a teacher, except in the way that we’re all teachers.  I haven’t been practicing for a lifetime, though I practice regularly now ¹.  The group I sit with on a regular basis is Zen, but I plan to write about other things I gleaned from books I’ve read, teachers I’ve met or listened to (Buddhist or just teachers in the school of life).

I don’t think Vipassana is necessarily the path for me.  It’s far too austere for my notions of devotional practice, which generally revolve around compassion and love and butterflies and bliss and a friendly God (what my friend Darcey calls “Slumber Party Theology’).  There isn’t even any talk about “God” in Vipassana, since the notion of God is considered by some Buddhists to be the final object of dependency, the ultimate fuzzy security blanket, the last thing to be abandoned on the path to pure detachment. ²

Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

In Zen, I have been told, we are supposed to come to our practice, to our zazen, to our cushions without ideas of achieving or gaining.  Yet, who really does this when approaching meditation for the first time?  We all have expectations.  We all want something.  That’s why we approach meditation in the first place, and maybe, eventually, get to that place where we can practice just to practice, sit just to sit, without throwing all of our stew of expectations, self-judgments, and evaluations into the mix.  Wanting something, or a feeling of dis-ease (not as in sickness, but in the sense that something just is off – there’s that dukkha again), is what gets many of us onto the cushion in the first place.

But what we want, what we expect from our meditation practice can vary radically.  The quote above from Eat, Pray, Love ³ is an illustration of this.  Gilbert wants bliss, and love, and butterflies, and a connection with God from her practice.  Another person might come to meditation looking for a way to deal with anxiety or because she’s read about the health benefits of meditation.  Another person might come to meditation because he’s interested in the ethical aspects of Buddhism as a way to live a good life, and learns about meditation that way. Yet another might see his meditation as a self-experiment in the expansion of consciousness.

And just as we come to the cushion (or the bench, or chair, or whatever we use) with our own differences and expectations for our meditation, there are many, many different types of meditation out there.  There are many non-Buddhist meditation practices, some of these are much like Buddhist meditation practices, and, even within Buddhism, there are many different types of meditation.   It can get confusing.  I spent a lot of time swinging back and forth between one type of meditation and another and another before I decided it was time to get consistent.  I’ll probably say this again in another place:  While exploring to see what works best for you is OK for a while, the best thing we can do for our meditation practice is to be regular and consistent.

But what is meditation?  With all these different types of meditation out there, is there a common denominator defining meditation.  Is there something consistent between all forms of meditation to define what meditation is?  I thought I’d start with the dictionary definition.  If you look up meditation at dictionary.com here’s what you find:

med·i·ta·tion

/ˌmɛdɪˈteɪʃən/ [med-i-tey-shuhn]

–noun

1. the act of meditating.

2. continued or extended thought; reflection; contemplation.

3. transcendental meditation.

4. devout religious contemplation or spiritual introspection.

---

Origin:
1175–1225;  < L meditātiōn- (s. of meditātiō ) a thinking over r. ME meditacioun  < AF < L, as above ⁴

But, somehow, these definitions didn’t to it for me.  For me, extended thought and contemplation is something I do when I’m thinking or reading, but not what I’m going for when I meditate.  Transcendental meditation is just one form of many, and though, I suppose religious contemplation can be one form of meditation, it’s not what I’d say I’m doing when I meditate.

Another, more simple definition that I’d agree with more is to be found at Wikipedia:

Meditation is a holistic discipline during which time the practitioner trains his or her mind in order to realize some benefit ⁵

Here we have the idea of training the mind.

So what is meditation, and why do we meditate?  I think the definition, purpose, and goal of meditation varies with religion or tradition.  Buddhism, of course did not originate, nor does it own meditation.

The goals of meditation according to:

• Christianity: Christians pray, right?  They don’t meditate, do they?  One could argue that prayer is a variety of meditation, though I would argue that it depends on the type of prayer.  Asking for stuff or bargaining with God certainly doesn’t count as meditation in my book, but I see something similar in counting hail Marys on a rosary and counting Om Mani Peme Hungs on a mala. Contemplative prayer traditions abound in Christianity.  Centering prayer is one such type of Christian meditation, with the goal of, “clear(ing) the mind of rational thought in order to focus on the indwelling presence of God ⁶, using a (usually Christian-based) anchor word to dwell on, coming back to that word whenever thought arise.  I see parallels between this, and my Zen practice, where I keep returning to the breath.  There have also been clergy that have also had Zen training.  Of course, the focus in Christian meditation would be God, which differs from the focus in Buddhist practice, though I have met Buddhists who are anywhere along the spectrum of theism.
• Yoga: When I first hear the word “yoga,” my mind first goes to hatha yoga, as that’s how I first encountered yoga here in the US as a child.  It was the 1970s, and my older mom had a young friend who would stand around on her head in our living room and talk to me.  I thought it was very cool, so I started to spend a lot of time with Richard Hittleman’s 28-day yoga program, as that was the only book I had access to.  This also pissed off some of my friends and neighbors.  I was told that this was “Evil,” and a “tool of Satan,” because the Sun Salutation was worshipping the Sun instead of Our Lord Jesus Christ.  These are the same people who would later suggest that I should be careful of meditation because it might open my mind too much – and then who knows what might get in there:)  I would roll my eyes, and explain that yoga was healthy and good exercise (advice I wish I’d stuck with, as, I assure you my body right now is NOT yoga-toned…but I plan to get with it again soon) and NOT religious.  I was right about everything but the last because, of course, yoga does have a religious or spiritual element, though hatha yoga is often practiced just for the workout.  The word Yoga means something like, “union” or “joining.”  Yoga is based in Hinduism and assumes the existence of God.  So the goal of yoga is to reconnect with the divine.  This is done both through meditation and asanas (postures)—which, of course, if done mindfully as they should be are, themselves, a form of movement meditation.
• Transcendental Meditation: This is a form of mantra meditation (also Hindu based) introduced in the 1950s by Maharesh Mahesh Yogi.  It was first promoted using more religious language, but then they began to promote the health benefits to make it more widely accessible and get more people to sign up (there is a cost to getting your mantra), and to allow it to be taught in schools.
• Science: Techniques like progressive relaxation and mindfulness meditation are being widely touted by science these days as being healthy:  reducing stress, promoting relaxation, reducing pain, increasing overall feelings of well-being and happiness, increasing empathy, decreasing blood pressure, controlling anxiety, even possibly helping with allergies.
• Buddhist meditation:  I would place ending suffering as the primary goal of Buddhist meditation.  I suspect that most would also place achieving enlightenment or Nirvana as the primary goal, though some would tell you that you should just practice without goal, and without striving for experiences of enlightenment or kensho.  Of course, within Buddhism there are many traditions and many varying practices.  I’ll go into some of these in a later article.
• I realize I missed many religions here, and these are just a few paths that practice forms of meditation.

My "goal" is to practice zazen like a baby.

So, why do I meditate?  On first thought, I would say that I’m definitely NOT practicing to deepen my connection with God.  Because of part of my upbringing, I have initial negative reactions to the word “God ⁷.  And yet…my practice deepens my feelings of connectedness, my insight into the interconnectedness between things, and is this whole – this everything-all-together—not God?  I suppose I started getting interested in meditation because, first, I was interested in anything different than what I was taught as a kid.  I think I first became interested in Buddhism for the same reason I became interested in other religious paths – out of disbelief in Christianity and a sort of rebelliousness.  But Buddhism is where I am now because it makes sense to me (or does sometimes – I still have a sort of baffled amusement toward some Zen stories).  And I became interested in meditation because I was an anxious person who was interested in finding ways to deal with anxiety besides popping the BuSpar my therapist was trying to prescribe me.  Has meditation helped me to reduce my suffering?  I would say, “yes,” though subtly.  I do find that when I practice regularly, I am able to deal with things with a little more equanimity, a little more calm.  Even with financial drama in my life, I am able to be a little more present right now, and worry less about the future ⁸.