Meditation in an Un-Meditative World

Meditation is a quandary in this world. Trying to find tranquility is anything but tranquil. We are all about competition, ambition and speed – none of which exactly inspire peace. Hell, my own home seems to be defined by its own brand of insanity, bred of the sheer volume of people who reside within these walls; personalities virtually colliding into one another with meteoric force. Peace and calm are hard to come by.

What happened to the simple life? Where did that go?

Simplicity seems to be something we have to retreat back into, something that we may have had long ago but strayed from in the quest for More. But, beyond a certain point, having more doesn’t guarantee peace of mind. Somehow the more you have, the more you have to lose and the more you think you should have. It’s like running on a hamster wheel, never going anywhere but crazy.

It certainly has nothing to do with being happy.

In the past, my ex-husband, in his frustrated pursuit of spirituality, labeled me a ‘natural Buddhist’. That meant that I was not the one who had to try to adhere to precepts, or circle a stupa reciting prayer in foreign tongues, or sit in meditation for hours, to embody peace and lovingkindness. It was just my nature.

At times he criticized me for not wanting enough ‘stuff’, for being satisfied with living small. He believed it to be unnatural. Why not get the big-screen TV? Everyone else has one.

And the truth is, I did appreciate simplicity.

I didn’t feel I needed much to be happy. When left to my own devices, I felt tranquil and content. There was not much to it at all.

The Monks and Meditation

In Buddhist society, monks are the representation of a philosophy that encourages being in harmony with living things, the development of inwardness over wealth and power. They try to live a life of tranquility and material simplicity that couldn’t possibly be in greater contrast to the constant acquisition and consumerism that represents developed countries, particularly our own. In the Earth Charter, principle 7 tells us to  “Adopt patterns of production, consumption and reproduction that safeguard Earths regenerative capacities, human rights and community well-being.” Somehow this concept seems alien to most of modern society.

This is where the monks come in.

In embodying these values monks are role models for the common people and represent the exact opposite of materialism and competition. When most of us even think about this we are entirely baffled.

I was never a monk.

At some point, I think I deviated from being a “natural Buddhist” as well.  I might have still embraced a simple life but life didn’t seem as simple. Tranquility became harder. It was harder to engage in quiet, to be still and empty. I worried. About money and my children and someone else’s children and the uncertainty of the future. On top of everything else, I worried about the planet. Often, I felt lack. Mostly, lack of peace.

So, in pursuit of Tranquility, I returned, once again, to my ‘natural Buddhist’ roots – albeit this time trying hard.

I’d never really been into meditation. Whenever people used to talk about it, I would listen politely, occasionally even having moments of envy and wonder that anyone else would get anything out of it. Especially because, what they did seem to get out of it, was peace. The part about clearing one’s mind, of going back to the breath, seemed impossible. My head was full of thought. I have had entire conversations with other people inside my head that were sometimes so distinct and lucid that I could swear I had them for real. Sitting zazen for hours did not seem like anything that would fit even mildly into my  schedule.

Into the Labyrinth…

There are people who meditate by walking through labyrinths with a question or intention in their head. I attempted this with my ninety year old father. We went to a labyrinth that had been written up, years before, in the local newspaper. I explained the process to him – to think of a question as you navigated the labyrinth – and we started, a few steps away from one another, walking slowly and purposefully, winding round, twisting back here and there towards it’s center.

The question I reflected on was: How can I be at peace?

You are supposed to have an answer as you reach the center, but I had none. If I remember correctly, my question even changed and I had no idea how I started. Instead, I was thinking about how I could make my own labyrinth at home. When I asked my father if he had gotten an answer to his question, he looked at me, completely blank and befuddled and asked loudly, “Where’s the bathroom?”

At least we were able to find the answer to that one.

Metta Meditation Magic

I read about a contemplative Buddhist meditation practice called Metta practice. Metta is most typically translated as “good will” or “loving kindness”. Supposedly this state greatly contributes to a tranquil disposition; it is key to Buddhist practice and one of four sublime states to be cultivated, the others being compassion, sympathetic joy and equanimity which is defined by mental calmness and evenness of temper, also keystones to a peaceful mind.

Supposedly there are some extremely practical reasons for cultivating metta, not the least of which is that one sleeps easily, wakes easily and has no evil dreams, that one’s mind can concentrate with greater ease and, at the other end of the spectrum, that “neither fire, poison nor weapons can touch you”. It’s like some kind of mental armor that makes Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak seem like a flannel nightgown.

Metta With Me…It’s Fun!

So, here’s what one does to practice metta: find a comfortable meditation posture and tune in to one’s breath till calm. Then proceed to let this little patter run through one’s mind: May I be well; may I be content, may I have the strength to meet what comes. Starting with one’s self is integral because it’s virtually impossible to feel good about anyone else if you can’t feel good about yourself.

After the self is out of the way, one moves on to those who are closest to them, gradually going further and further afield until finally you’re dealing with the people you don’t really care for at all. It could be a very long practice if you have a lot of friends on Facebook. In any case, I discovered that I could do this when I was travelling home on the train. I couldn’t exactly sit cross-legged on the floor in a more acceptable meditation posture, but there were no more than a handful of passengers in the car and they were far from paying attention to the metta contemplation running through my head like electronic ticker-tape. Maybe they thought it odd to have me sitting there staring into oblivion while everyone else was glued to their Smartphone – but so what, right?

I got quite far and started ‘blessing’ people who I’ve only heard of on the news. It became like a game where you had to come up with as many names as possible in a given time period.

An article I read about tranquility claimed that tranquility keeps our thoughts free of the turmoil in the world around us. By the end of my exercise I was staring and smiling. There was certainly no turmoil. I wondered: am I allowed to laugh?  I had no idea if I was doing anything right or if I was doing everything wrong… or if it even mattered.

But I was willing to try again.

Benjamin Franklin Had No Idea…

On Benjamin Franklin’s list of virtues, tranquility is defined as “not being disturbed at trifles or at accidents common or unavoidable”. Benjamin Franklin had two sons – one of whom died before the age of four – and one daughter. This is why he was fat and happy. Let him try practicing tranquility in a house with seven people. I wonder how calm he would have been if his days were punctuated with petty argument, shrieks of laughter, crying,  complaints, questions and the constant hunger of five young mouths. He wouldn’t have had the time to go out flying kites: that much I know.

It is not quiet or tranquil here until everyone is in bed, too late sometimes to really enjoy it.

I frequently make a stab at peace by reading aloud to everybody but they fight for their spot next to me, interrupting with a million questions that seem aimed simply at annoying me. Often I’ll get close to sending everyone to their room but bite my tongue; their father will accomplish this mission soon enough.

Like Ben Franklin, I only had two children of my own to raise. Mostly I did it alone and, in comparison, it seemed simple. When you are around a lot of kids, it makes you realize just how easy it is for people not to get along.

Doing What Comes Naturally…

For me, the closest thing to meditation has always been some kind of outdoor physical labor. My mind becomes focused on the task at hand and my head seems somehow empty. I can feel the wind on my skin and I’ll notice every shadow the sun casts.  Little bugs and things that, miraculously make themselves apparent from one moment to the next; the grass and birds that converse softly around me; all become part of my outer and inner landscape. My awareness is heightened and yet my mind is peaceful and clear. Work like this makes me feel free.

The most menial tasks, the most difficult tasks are equally capable of clearing my head.

One day I pulled weeds all day with my daughter. Behind us, the pile grew to immense proportions till, at some point, it seemed to take up almost as much space as the weeds had when they were still in the ground.  My daughter said, “It’s like they keep coming!”. And, in fact, it was as if, no matter how many of them we cut down, they kept advancing. We were an army of two and they were innumerable and inexhaustible. “Still,” I said to Merit, pointing at the pile, “look at all their casualties – and our side is still standing! We haven’t lost a single person.” She laughed.

We took a break and drank almost a gallon of water each and somehow, getting back to work, I felt more peaceful than I had been in a long time. My brain was quiet and my body knew exactly what to do. Tranquility – at last.

Nature in Strange Places…

I experienced a kind of revelation when recently visiting an urban garden. It is strange how a garden seems to settle people down immediately; all the life quietly flourishing, so much un-aggravated activity. I’ve noticed that even the children are most engaged when planting or watering or harvesting in our own garden. This city garden was like an oasis in the middle of town; all these little nooks and crannies inviting silence and contemplation. Inviting just being.

For so long I’ve lived in the country and almost take for granted the silence of space. But there, so close to everything I realized how important it is to have these kind of green spots in a city, why parks can be so essential for city dwellers. Just that small breath of nature is pleasing and peaceful and makes us feel emptied and whole all at the same time, which – I think – is part of what meditation is all about.  Walking through a garden or a forest is like a natural meditation and it doesn’t require anything from us at all. Except to be there.

Tranquility seems easier in the natural world. Cats certainly have it down. There is hardly anything that bothers them. The sun could explode and they would just lie there enjoying the heat.

There’s a goat sitting outside my window now that is in a deeply meditative state. The wind is blowing. All the children are throwing water balloons. But, in the middle of it all, that goat is completely still. Her eyes are closed. Nothing is going to disturb that kind of calm.

But us? We seem to move further away from the natural every day.

No wonder meditation becomes something integral to maintaining our health and sanity. It slows us down; takes us out of the fray.

Meditation With Technology

Strangely, technology does supply answers. Apps like Headspace and Insight Timer (my favorite) are great for learning how to meditate and provide guided meditation to get you through everything from a stressful day to the corona virus. There are meditations to start your day and to help relax you into sleep. This is how I ended up figuring meditation out. On my own time with my headphones on.

I started at the worst of times: when I was caring for my dying father. There always seemed to be interruptions; my father may not have spoken for hours but the minute I was cross-legged and closed-eyed, he would decide that it was time to have a conversation. But I needed that calm so badly and I refused to give up.

I’ve been meditating regularly now for two years and I always feel a difference in my mood when I don’t. So I make time. Every day. Some days are still easier than others but there are less and less days where I am distracted and more and more days when I can sit, just like that goat, with all manner of things happening in the background, and not be bothered at all.

I feel I’ve come far.

HOW DO YOU COME TO TRANQUILITY? WHAT MAKES YOU FEEL PEACEFUL? Let me know. I’m still trying to figure it all out.