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

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

The Ecosystem And Greater Development

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I’ve been reading “McMindfulness,” a book on how a kind of stripped-down Buddhism became a big fad by promoting “mindfulness.” Basically you learn to be aware of stress and decisions, while of course doing crap-all to make the world a less stressful place. It’s a few techniques used as a kind of though-stopping cliche. Also it’s written rather angrily by a Buddhist, and angry Buddhist writing is an experience.

One thing the author notes, repeatedly is that such “Mindfulness” techniques are bereft of things like ethical teachings, the importance of community, etc. The famous “Eightfold Path” which is sort of integral to leading an effective lifestyle for a Buddhist is missing. Its just awareness exercises otherwise, and you’re not that aware without them.

This struck my own experiences in what I call “the ecosystem.” My meditative work, Taoist-derived, is far far more effective, insightful, and useful combined with a “big picture” set of efforts. Ethical and social considerations, reading the Tao Te Ching, use of symbolic systems like the I Ching to interpret states, and so on. Meditation without a larger structure is just different ways to sit there but not “sit there” if you know what I mean.

It dawned on me that having an ecosystem is necessary to spiritual practice and without it you’ll develop little if at all. In fact you might just be self-centered and more withdrawn, being really aware of how you’re not doing anything with your spiritual awareness.

The ecosystem provides a way to support your growth – and often that involves supporting others. To deal with ethical considerations, choices, and operate among people is vital for spiritual development. You often need people for that development anyway, even if some of us really wonder about being hermits now and then. To exist in society and pursue spiritual growth requires a framework.

The ecosystem also primes you for real growth. To ask about moral considerations, one’s role in society, and so on is to prepare you to use those insights. Your spiritual growth is not trapped inside a bubble of self- it helps you become a much larger person.

Finally, the ecosystem is a form of meditation. What does the Eightfold Path really mean to a Buddhist? What do Taoists mean when they say that sounds can “deafen the ear?” To have an ecosystem of ethics and social practices is to ask why they exist and give you more to contemplate.

Meditative practices, mindfulness practices, do not end at just being a bit more aware. That’s the beginning, and to remove the larger ecosystem of ethics, social principles, etc. is to strip down meditative practices to nearly nothing. Certainly enough nothing to be marketed in endless seminars where people are taught to put up with all the crap in the world.

I’m not yet done with this book, but I’m getting why the Buddhist writer is pissed off.

–Xenofact