Meditation

Doing Or Watching Myself Do?

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One of the weird things about meditation is what you learn about yourself – like it or not. I have sometimes said that whatever other values meditation has, the things along the way are beneficial. A lot of it comes from understanding your own habits, obsessions, and mistakes.

In this case, I’d like to talk about learning the difference between doing and watching.

My meditative practice, as noted often, is informed by The Secret of the Golden Flower (Cleary Translation) among other readings. I tune my breath to be slow and even as I watch it, refining my breath and my awareness as I go. I sometimes call it the Triple Action as following, slowing, and evening is all one.

Without going into the benefits and experiences – as I and others note discussing goals often distracts from the act – it’s fascinating to see what happens when I get off track. If you’re not a meditatior and wonder “how can you get off track by just breathing evenly and slowly” then my advice is “try to do it consistently for five minutes.”

So anyway there I am meditating and tuning my breath, feeling strangely distracted and distant, and of course I continue to meditate since that continuity is part of the point. I continued and still felt like something wasn’t quite right, that I couldn’t quite focus. Then suddenly I become aware of what’s happening.

I’m not just there following my ever-refining breath, I’m watching myself do it. I’m following the watching of myself. It’s like doing something by looking in a mirror – just a lot of what we do is looking at reflections of ourselves in our own mind, our own self-image. I was so intent on the mirror I kept losing focus on the thing I wanted to pay attention to – my breath.

Now I kept up with my practice – insights can be distractions – but that stuck with me when I was done. Sometimes you’re not watching something, you’re watching watching. Sometimes you’re not thinking, you’re thinking about yourself thinking. The human mind can get into some pretty wild infinite recursion, which is immediately obvious as soon as you remember your last neurotic obsession.

This was a reminder of how we can make simple things very complex, how we over-think, over-monitor, and end up abstract from our lives. It’s pretty amazing what following your tuned breath can reveal to you.

But don’t let such realizations distract you.

  • Xenofact

McMindfulness: Aware In The Dark

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I picked up McMindfulness by Ronald E Purser when I saw it at a store, right after it had been mentioned on a podcast.  I’d heard of this look at the “mindfulness industry” and how repurposed stripped-down Buddhism was used to basically serve capitalism.  So I picked it up, read it, and found that my summary was a little too genteel.  So let me review the book – and heartily recommend it.

The book starts by looking at how, over the decades, mindfulness exercises taken in part from Buddhism had become big business in seminars and corporate advice.  The core idea is that you become more aware of your actions (and reactions) and thus mindful, are not as troubled by the world because you are so aware.  You’ll notice, by the way, it stops there – you just learn to navigate the world better as opposed to asking “why am I so stressed out?” and “why do things suck?”

The author, a Buddhist himself, walks through the Mindfulness Industry and shows how widespread it is but also how useless it is.  Since the industry is firmly lodged in neoliberal capitalism, it has no interest in fixing the system it’s in – which often causes the problem.  In fact, seeing how Mindfulness has become a corporatized product illustrates the problems of our economic and culture – which the Mindfulness Industry can’t and won’t solve.

During this tour, Purser notes firmly and intelligently that this separated selfish pseudo-self awareness misses out on Buddhism’s teachings on community, compassion, and responsibility.  The Mindfulness Industry doesn’t just take a few bits of Buddhism, it outright excludes the social elements of the religion and its teachings.  It couldn’t include them since then they’d basically be selling something that wouldn’t fill those big corporate conferences – and worse.

Because, Purser goes in depth more than I expected on mindful politics, war-waging, and more.  We’re so used to the “mindfulness” stuff we might not realize how far it’s penetrated, showing up in banal political speeches and efforts that desensitize people in the name of “not being reactive.”  Even if you pay attention to this stuff, you may be surprised beyond your capacity for cynicism.

Purser also speculated on how McMindfulness produces a selfish, separated, almost abstract sense of self.  I can see echoes of the prosperity gospel and online conspiracy theories in his speculations – both ways to seek wealth and self-aggrandizement, but without any responsibility or even real transformation.  If anything, I think there’s more to study in this area.

He does see hope – or ways – to free Mindfulness from its current corporate shackling.  So it’s not a hopeless book – it’s one carried by a kind of passionate loving rage.  So yes, you’ll get angry Buddhist when you read this.

A firm recommendation for seekers like ourselves.

-Xenofact

An Old Fear of Meditation

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Way back in my youthful days, when I became interested in religion, I was actually adverse to meditation. I want to explore this because it’s got some useful insights.

What annoyed me was that meditation seemed to be about controlling your mind. In my youthful misinterpretations, it seemed that you strove mightily to keep thoughts out of your mind. It sounded like a way to sit cross-legged calmly and get anxiety. I was a teenager, I had enough anxiety due to biochemistry.

It was only much later that I realized that meditation was more about doing something that then had certain insights/benefits or “just do it and trust me.” I wonder how my life may have been different if I had understood this difference earlier. Certainly it’d have expanded my interest in Buddhism (which I most associated with control) and meditation in general.

(Ironically I thought Taoism was cool, and despite some scholars in the 80s dissing the mystic aspects, I found those kept intriguing me.)

On reflection, I see a few lessons here.

First, my “fear of endless control” arose from people talking about what meditation should result in. The focus on the goal is anxiety-producing as we are not trying to meditate, but we are trying to “get somewhere” – and as I’ve expounded on, meditation needs doing and all else takes care of itself. I wonder how many scholars and theologians and historians accidentally turned people off to meditation or accidentally set people on a path to self-flagellation.

Secondly, it makes me realize how, as kids, there’s really little useful education on theology, culture, and spirituality. Yes, a lot of this is because all we get is religious indoctrination and marketed bullshit, but a person can hope for something more. Having a good, open, sympathetic understanding of such things would be a great benefit, though I’m not holding my breath.

Third, it makes me realize how important it is for us to be able to discuss spiritual and meditative practices with each other. It’s difficult enough as is, and when even talented authors mess it up the rest of us have a steeper hill to climb. It’s an actual skillset we could cultivate, and maybe share around.

So that’s it. Just a personal experience and something I learned. There’s always lessons in our past.

–Xenofact