Meditation Technique pt.1: Mindfulness of Breathing

One of my favorite Buddha images, Sukhothai Historical Park.

In my last post, I talked about the conditions that lead to the experience of seeing clearly, or vipassana meditation. In this post, I want to begin the discussion of the actual techniques that I personally use to steer this journey in the right direction, so as to avoid the numerous pitfalls that await any unsuspecting practitioner.

So what are these pitfalls?

To me, the practice of meditation is like walking a tight-rope, with craving on one side and aversion on the other. Basically, the Buddha said that these two things, plus the third of ignorance, are what keep us locked in the wheel of samsara, or suffering. Craving, in meditation, can be seen as reaching for positive experiences and aversion as pushing negative ones away. In either experience, the mind isn't equanimous. That is to say that it isn't calm, centered, and steady. Another way of looking at it is to say an equanimous mind is always content with what it has, and it doesn't look to change things.

This doesn't mean that we don't want to improve our lives, but that we are willing to accept and be at peace with the way things for us in this very moment. As it turns out, this acceptance is the key to manifesting change.

In order to see clearly into the nature of the mind and the reality of any given moment, we need to develop a mind that is calm, steady, and centered. When we practice observation, we take a step back from our reality and into the space of the silent observer, making it easier to see these three poisons, as they are called, of craving, aversion, and ignorance at work in our lives all the time, without us even knowing it.

So when I sit down for my daily meditation practice, I use a variety of techniques to calm the mind and maintain awareness. Or I should say I try, because much of the time, I am unable to achieve this. "Try" is a tricky word though, as the idea about Right Effort is a fine line. If you try too hard, the mind is overstrained, if you don't try hard enough, the mind is too scattered. In the middle, somewhere, is concentration.

So what do I try?

Meditation in Therevada Buddhism generally comes in two flavors: vipassana and samatha. Samatha is calm-abiding and vipassana is clear-seeing. Some like one more than the other, some practice both. I see them as connected, and have noticed that many times, clear-seeing follows calm abiding. So oftentimes, I start with a concentration practice that leads to samatha.

Breathing. The breath is the most consistently recognizable aspect of our direct experience of any given moment. It's always happening. So is the heart, but the heartbeat is much more subtle and therefore more difficult to perceive. This makes the breath a great place to start. The point of concentration is to keep your attention fixed on the present moment. Observation leads to attention. So basically, one way or other, you want to watch the breath. Some people don't like this description, and prefer to think of it as being the breath, so as to not create a duality between the experience of breathing and the experiencer. Either way, it's not something that you need to think about.

Since I like to keep my home practice nice and loose and relaxed, I don't always use one technique for practicing mindfulness of breathing. Sometimes, I focus only on the sensation of the breath coming and and going out of the tip of the nostril, as taught by Pa Auk Sayadaw, a Buddhist monk and meditation teacher from Burma. This is the technique that I find to be the most effective, as there is no movement in the location of where the breath is actually being observed or perceived. When my concentration moves, my mind tends to move as well. Having a fixed point to observe keeps my mind steady, and even though there is movement in the breath passing through the nostrils, the location of the observation remains the same.

When my intention is weak, I find that my mind is unable to focus on such a small aspect of my experience. On days like this, I just try to pick up any part of the breath I can. I notice that when I am practicing like this, the clarity of concentration is minimal compared to those days when my intention is stronger and I am determined to watch the breath at the tip of the nose. But somedays, I am just content with even trying to practice anything, so I don't push my luck.

A couple of years ago, mindfulness of breathing was the extent of my practice, and I sort of took in the whole experience of the breath coming in through the nose, going down the throat, and filling the belly, before going back out again. At that point, I was counting 1 through 10 on the exhalations, and then starting over again. After coming across some more teachings and a little bit of self-analysis, I sort of realized that my point of concentration had somehow shifted from the breath to the act of counting itself. That's not to say that this technique doesn't work, it's just that you have to be careful and check in to see what you are actually concentrating on.

When my concentration is weak, I still use counting, but when I don't need it, I let it go. 

As soon as I realized that my concentration from breathing, or counting as it was, was weak, I'd just go back to the breath. Always back to breath. My mind would wander, and I'd bring it back. It would wander again, and I would bring it back again. There was no other aspect of my practice. When I started to look at the other aspects of my experience, such as the mind's tendency to bring forth judgment and criticism, a whole other world seemed to open up for me. Now, at any moment in my life, I can use this practice of checking in with the mind to see what's happening there. It's a wonderful partnership, mindfulness of breathing and mindfulness of mind.

I don't want to get too much into mindfulness of mind in this post, but I am a big believer in it's importance in every practice of mindfulness, due to it's tendency to show up and take over.


So when the mind is unable to stay with the experience of breathing, what happens next? 

This is when the practice really helps us see how our minds like to take something small, blow it out of proportion, and turn it back around on ourselves. Here we are, practicing meditation and doing something good for ourselves, and as soon as the mind slips in concentration, we find the judgmental mind steps in to tear us down for it.

"What's wrong with you, why can't you concentrate?"

This is something that you will probably hear from day one. First of all, you should ask, "Who are you?" There's no one here but you, so you don't need to listen when the voice in your head is trying to talk to you like you are someone else. Basically, the voice in yourself is like a wind-up toy, and is no one. You are the one listening and feeling bad for what this voice is telling you.

Don't believe the voice in your head!

What I do when I "catch" this voice beating me up for my inability to focus, which happens on a daily basis, is I do my best to let it fall off of me. Like a hot coal, it can only hurt me if I catch it, which is exactly what we tend to do when we don't know that this voice is not worth listening to. Sometimes, my response is somewhat of an internal laugh, sometimes even an external smile. "Ha," I say back to it, "I see you at work, and I know you aren't real." 

Careful to not start a lengthy dialogue with this voice in your head, or try too hard to figure out where "you" stop and the voice begins. It doesn't really matter, just notice its tendency to bring negativity into the forefront of your experience and that will be enough for you to stop believing it. As far as dealing with it without believing it, well, that seems to take practice. Since this voice runs the show for us much of the time, it's not exactly an easy transition to make.

Keep "calling it out" and it will lose its power over you. 

Don't judge it, and don't pick a fight with it. Just by shining the light of awareness into the dark places in our lives, healing takes place. You don't need to bring in the troops; flicking on the light-switch is enough. If you try to fight back, you will find your mind has lost its balance. If you stay present, and neither grab this hot coal, nor try to swing at with a bat, you will notice that your mind has become calm, stable, and has the ability to watch your direct experience as it is happening.

When you have this experience of calm presence, just keep practicing like this, neither grabbing for anything nor pushing anything away. As soon as you throw a party for yourself for "arriving" in the moment, your bouncer probably didn't see the ego sneak in the back door and now you're back in your story, thinking about how great you are and this and that. But don't believe these stories either, they probably just come from a deeper seated sense of lack and insecurity, which is probably caused from believing that voice in your head for all these years...

The great thing about meditation is that you don't need to look into everything, it will come looking for you!

Angkor Thom, Cambodia

Lately, in preparation for an upcoming 21-day vipassana course I plan to participate in, I have been trying to practice concentrating on the rising and falling of the stomach, but with little success. And by success, I mean that I have found it very hard to concentrate on this aspect of breathing as it tends to be more subtle, especially when the breath is relaxed and shallow.

So how should I be breathing?

Well, in short, you shouldn't be doing anything. We want to move toward observing any aspect of our direct experience for the way it is, not for the way we think it ought to be. Controlling the breath is not necessary, just simply allow it to be however it wants to be. Sometimes, it will be short. Sometimes, it will be long. It can be smooth or choppy. It can be deep or shallow. When it's deep and long, it's easier to observe. When it's shallow and short, it can be very difficult to observe. When the mind becomes relaxed, sometimes it feels like breathing has stopped altogether, and sometimes it does. If the breath has disappeared from your ability to observe it, just stay with the experience of waiting for it to return. It will.

The breath is the only thing you need to practice with when it comes to meditation, but for my mind, I find it helpful to include other aspects of my direct experience. For example, my attempts to concentrate solely on breathing will be met with all sorts of obstacles that are constantly changing. It could be mental chatter, pain in the body, sleepiness, or some sort of mood/attitude. If I am in a bad mood, can't focus long enough to stay with more than 3 or 4 breaths, and have shooting pains in my back, I just find it's better to go to those other experiences than to try to stay on the breath.

At one retreat I sat, the teacher, Steve Armstrong, related the practice of concentration to being like a bulldog guarding its bone. There can be an intense amount of focus and peace there, but when "life" happens, some of the various other techniques I practice can be useful in helping me avoid dead-ends and circular tracks of mental activity.

There's nothing miraculous about the practice of mindfulness of breathing, at least not in the beginning.
When you try it, and are honest with yourself, you will find that is very hard to stay focused on the breath for any amount of time. The mind will slip away very quickly, and go to any one of the things that is floating around just below the surface and waiting to pop up into our lives.

The breath is an anchor, and can help to steady the mind when the seas are rough. It's probably not something that you want to skip over completely, in pursuit of some "better" technique. Just because many people don't use this as their main practice, doesn't mean that you don't need it. As I said, it's always there, and will always be there until you die. If you only know how to deal with pain or rocky emotions, what will you do when the skies are clear and there is no turbulence?

Meditation is not just a cure for your ailments. It's more than that, it's meant to elevate your state of consciousness into a higher realm, and is relevant in every moment of your life. Don't worry about that too much though. For now, just keep breathing, and try to remain connected to the direct experience of the breath. Whether it's at the nostril or the belly, whether you count or you don't, just keep watching. 

In my next post, I'll talk about another technique that is closely related, but seems to warrant it's own category, and that is mindfulness of body. 

What is Vipassana Meditation?

A sleeping Buddha image in Ayutthaya. 

In way do I consider myself an expert on Vipassana, or Insight Meditation, but I will attempt to give an explanation based on my experiences with practicing it for the sake of those who might be interested in learning more about this ancient and powerful technique.

Vipassana is not something that you do, it’s something that happens to you when the conditions are right.

Ok, so maybe it's not a technique per se, but there are certainly techniques that lead to these conditions arising. I won't get into the actual techniques of what I practice in this post as much, but more of the philosophy that allows the techniques to be effective. 

So what happens?

I “practice” meditation a lot, but a lot of the time, I am unable to enter the state of clear-seeing that is vipassana. My mind is not yet trained enough to be able to get to that state very easily, and the more I try to make it happen, the further away it seems to be. When the conditions are right, I enter a state of seeing and knowing. Not like I know something that I can put my finger on, but more of an understanding.

The mind is a tricky thing. It likes to play games and it works in patterns. Insight meditation looks to dive into these inner workings of the mind by using the tools available to us. These tools are intention, willingness, and observation. Just like a skilled laborer, the meditator can apply these tools to see the nature of the mind. But there is a condition—there is always a condition— and the mind is not granted the opportunity to observe in any given moment. Certain factors are usually required before we are able to observe any aspect of our direct experience as it is happening. When something startling happens, the jolt can be so great as to create a sudden experience of awareness. You can think of a time when you had a near death experience, or a near car accident, or something that really rattled the cage.

Intention is a common predecessor to observation. When we set the intention to be mindful, it acts as a reminder, and as we find out, mindfulness is a lot like remembering the present from moment to moment. It’s sort of like the empty stomach of the hawk that acts as a constant reminder for the hawk to keep its eye on the prey. If we don’t know that we want to be observant, chances are, we won’t be. The mind has a million other things that are waiting to take the center stage, and those things don’t require any effort. Observation requires effort. That’s why we call meditation a practice. It’s not something that you just go and do, it’s something that you work toward, and the more you exercise the muscle of mindfulness the stronger it becomes.

Especially at first, the challenge is so great that it is easy to give up.

Willingness is the difference between experimenting and practicing. I think most people, especially in the west, come to meditation as an experiment. They want to see what it’s like, and when they quickly discover how difficult it can be, suffering overcomes curiosity and they stop meditating. Or maybe they sit once a month, but can never seem to lock it in.

The first couple of years were like this for me. I was attracted to meditation for various reasons, but none of them gave me the willingness necessary to actually do much sitting. I liked to read a lot of books about the philosophy of mindfulness and talk about it with friends and strangers, but the actual amount of time I spent sitting in silence was next to nothing. This is because I had no idea what was meditation was supposed to be like and was lying to myself about the success of my sessions. “That was a good mediation,” I’d say to myself, even though I couldn’t make myself sit for longer than 10 minutes...

Now I understand that there is no such thing as a good meditation. "Good" is just a label that the mind likes to put on things that it finds favorable. Good doesn’t exist in reality, and as it turns out, discovering reality is really the reason why meditation seems to be worth all the trouble. So now with a new found purpose, other than experimenting with some heady philosophical concepts of what meditation is all about, I find myself much more willing to endure great amounts of suffering for small glimpses of truth and freedom. And what I used to think was something of magic, now seems to be very straightforward and practical, as vipassana allows you to see, step by step, how the mind works, thus allowing you the opportunity to find freedom from those activities which prevent you from understanding reality.

Finally, when the conditions are right, observation happens. When I stopped lying to myself about the success of my meditations, I realized that I wasn’t meditating at all, but rather, that I was just sitting there drifting in neural space. This is usually what happens for me, to this day, when the conditions for observation aren’t right. I say that there needs to be intention and willingness, but beyond that, I don’t always know what’s preventing me from being able to observe. As I said before, once you are able to observe, things become clear, and you can understand why things are and aren’t happening. But until that observation occurs, you are largely in the dark, feeling around for the light switch.

My guess is that it has something to do with how many layers of dark clouds are already hovering over your mind. If it is too thick, all the intention and willingness in the world won’t necessarily grant you the ability to observe the present moment. There are days like this for me, when I just can’t seem to be able to focus, no matter how many times I keep coming back to that intention to do so.

So what happens when we are granted the ability to observe?

Well, a lot can happen, but basically, a space-time event occurs and then we have a reaction to it. These events are occurring all the time, but we rarely realize they are even happening. That’s not to say that we didn’t sense the event, but that we weren’t aware of our reaction to it. In mindfulness, both the event and the reaction need to be observed, otherwise, we are just asleep at the wheel.

One thing I like about visiting some of these ancient
ruins is the serenity expressed on the Buddha images.

When we become aware of an event as it happens, our interpretation of it comes in three different flavors, according to the Buddha. It can either be pleasant, unpleasant, or neither pleasant nor unpleasant (neutral). From this initial interpretation, a whole chain reaction of mental activity is spawned. The way this works is interesting to watch, and when you see how one thing leads to another, it sort of makes sense out of presumed randomness.

Oftentimes, I miss many of the steps along the way, as my mind drifts from concentration and into chatter mode, but when I snap out of La La Land, I can remember the spark that got the story going, connect the dots, and it all makes sense again.

There’s not anything specifically special about the mental events that take place during meditation, they are largely the same types of events that take place all day everyday, but they just tend to go unnoticed. So rather than the goal of meditation to experience peace while we are sitting cross-legged in silence, the goal        becomes to be aware of every waking moment of our lives. This is when meditation really becomes a practice and not just an experiment.

Here is an everyday experience that has nothing to do with meditation itself.

Jill is walking down the street. She sees a dog, and even though the dog doesn’t look the same as hers, it reminds her of her dog. Then she realizes she forgot to reschedule the appointment for her dog to see the vet about his foot problem. Feet. My feet hurt, she comes to realize as she walks, these shoes are old, and I should buy new ones. Then she sees an old car and realizes that her car is old too, and that is why she is walking, because it broke down last month. I need to buy a new car, but all of that debt to pay first! And then, last night’s argument over debt with her husband takes the center stage right as Jill is crossing the street and a honking car swerves out of the way at the last second and Jill finally wakes up from her dream.

Isn’t this madness?

Absolutely! But is it random? Not exactly, it’s easy to see how certain conditions were present that caused one train of thought to turn into the next. Not only that, but you can imagine these issues with debt and her problem with her husband are floating around and prone to popping up on a frequent basis.

Going back to the two sides of the observation coin, it is pretty easy to see how Jill sensed the event (the event being the sight of the dog), but wasn’t aware of her reaction to it, which lead to the ever so common chain-reaction. The scary part is that it took Jill almost getting hit by a car to snap out of it. If there wouldn’t have been a car there, and the street was clear, she would have just kept right on going, and 20 steps later, who knows, maybe she was thinking about what she should get her husband for his upcoming birthday, something that won’t break the bank but that will get her on his good side a bit. Of course, there's also the chance the car didn't see her in time and ran her over.

Yes, a lack of mindfulness can get you killed!

This is largely how we go about living out our daily lives--being led around by our minds without realizing it. Having a daily meditation practice, more than anything, just acts as a reminder that this is the state of my life. It hasn’t really changed the mental activity all that much, but has just offered more reminders of how ridiculous it really is. On a good day, I can string these moments of mindfulness together and experience peace and clarity. But not everyday is good and to constantly be reminded of how poorly you are practicing can be dis-heartening.

So that’s where the next step in the process comes into play, acceptance. If observation happens, but the observer cannot or will not accept what is being observed, nothing is gained (insight), or lost (madness), and things quickly go back to the level of unconscious auto-pilot. Chances are, Jill, after being startled by the honking car, was back to her normal unconscious auto-pilot mode within a few seconds of being woken up from it. That’s because the truth of what tends to be realized when we observe things as they are in their environment can be hard to accept, and unless we have some idea of how we can practice acceptance, we probably just won’t. Not only that, but being lost in thought is so normal, that any glimpse into reality can be seen as nothing more than an accident rather than a realization.

The thing about acceptance is that it is very humbling. It tears you down and breaks you apart. It’s like shining the light into the back of the closet to look for something. As soon as we find what we are looking for, we turn the light off and pretend that we never saw just how dirty it was back there. We go back to our routine and the contents of what was revealed are quickly forgotten, but somewhere in the back of our minds we know what is waiting for us, and we know what we have to do.

Acceptance is finally facing that which you know awaits you, but you've been in denial about. Sometimes, for me, it can also result in surrender. When what I have to accept is a big load, the only thing I can do is get down on my hands and knees and cry it out. Not out of sadness, but as a way to finally let go of what I've been holding on to. Those moments have truly been some of the most beautiful moments of my entire life. 

The longer you go without cleaning something, the harder it becomes to make yourself do. Meditation can be a lot of like cleaning. The more often you do it, the easier it is to keep things clean. If you keep putting it off and putting it off, you end up with a huge burden to try to get back to a clean slate. In my experience, I let something go like that when I am not able to admit that it is in fact a reality. At one point in time, I think I had gotten to be an expert at shielding myself from the truth.

Now, it’s a little harder to trick myself, and when I try, I become uneasy.

Just because it’s easier for me to see how my mind plays tricks on me, doesn’t mean I always am willing to accept that that’s what’s happening.

If I had to guess why this is, I’d say it’s probably due my own personal tendency to beat myself up over what I’ve uncovered. Kindness is probably the most important step of the entire process, and although it’s the last, it’s also the only one that can work on it’s own without the others. You can have intention, but without willingness, your intention will quickly fade. You can have willingness, but without observation, you’ll never understand what the point is. You can observe, but if you don’t accept what’s happening, it’s just like turning the lights back off after you've finally found the switch. And if you can accept what you see after the lights are on, but you can’t respond with kindness, love and compassion--for both you and those around you--then it would have been better if you had never found the switch in the first place. If you run around blind your whole life, and never find the switch, but you practice kindness for both yourself and others, you are much closer to enlightenment than the person who can see, but has no love.

Some of the most destructive humans in history have been very great observers and acceptors, but they never found the final step of kindness, and were overcome with desire, greed, and hatred. Again, it would have better if these people never had tapped into the power of mindfulness in the first place.

If you are going to turn on the light, you better be willing to respond with compassion to whatever you see.

If you’re not, maybe the timings not right for you to start looking for the switch. Then again, sometimes kindness ends up being the only logical solution after going through steps 1 through 4. In fact, I’d say that’s how was able to invite kindness into my life. But then again, that was never my intention, and I never knew it was even an option. Maybe I just got lucky.

So now that you know the importance of kindness, you can choose to practice it with every step of the way. When your concentration slips, and you find yourself lost in thought, practice kindness. Don’t be hard on yourself. It happens to everyone!

When you are disappointed in the fact that you caught yourself being hard on yourself for not being able to concentrate, practice kindness.

When you become frustrated after your attempt to practice kindness is consumed with the more powerful fealing of defeat that arose when you weren’t able to refrain from being disappointed because your concentration slipped, and now you’re just disappointed because you can’t even practice kindness correctly, practice kindness.

Do you see what I’m saying?

So I realize now after writing 2,500 words that I still haven’t really offered any sort of tangible definition to what Vipassana Mediation really is, but I think I’m okay with that. It’s not something that you should be able to put your finger on. It’s something that you need to practice, if you want to invite the light of awareness into your life in hopes of being able to effect the change that you wish you see in the world. Sure, there are other practices and other paths--this is just one--but for me, this is the one that seems to fit the best with my analytical type of mind.

My friend finding a moment of peace at Sukhothai Historical Park. 

As much as I liked the ideas surrounding mystical realization from meditation, this practical approach to “waking up” just makes more sense to me. Intention, willingness, observation, acceptance, and kindness can be thought of all the fluids that keep your car going: gas, oil, water, grease, etc. But just because your car is in running condition doesn't mean you won't drive it off a cliff or run over some lady lost in thought. In my next post, I will write a little more about the actual techniques I use to keep me between the lanes, that is, when the conditions are right for me to even be able to do so. 

Please share your thoughts and experiences with meditation in the space for comments below!

The 1-Hour At-Home Meditation

You might notice that I chose to include the at-home element of this article in the title, as I find the difference between meditating at home, as opposed to let's say with a group, to be monumental. Sitting with a group tends to be easier, especially because it is such an intentional act; everyone is there for the same reason and that group support really seems to help. For me anyway, sitting at home can be extremely hard. Distractions are numerous and can be found in close proximity. If I sit with a group, I turn my cell phone off and usually don't even bring it in to the room with me. At home, I use my phone as a timer and don't turn off the ringer.

This is my spot. Putting the two smaller cushions under my knees helps the pain on longer sits...

Maybe someone calls. Maybe someone stops by, like my landlord delivering a package. When I lived in Colorado last winter in a house with 3 others, I sat through everything from a party to a fight between my roommate and her boyfriend. Maybe people are stomping around, maybe the computer or that new movie I just brought home is beckoning me. Maybe I am hungry, or have to go to the bathroom. Did I forget to set the timer?

These are typical things that run through my mind when I sit for meditation at home.

But what this is really about is the 1-hour meditation, as opposed to the 10, 20, 30, or 40 minute meditations that I frequently use as well. There is just something about that entire hour that is extremely humbling and sometimes insightful. What a beautiful opportunity to see a reflection of who and what you are in that place and time. Oftentimes, what I see in that reflection, is all those places within me that are ugly: hyperactivity, impatience, resistance, etc.  Knowing this before I sit, it can take a lot of courage just to get to the point where I agree with myself that this is something that I want to do. Okay, maybe want isn't the right word, let's go with willing.

This morning was one of such times when I agreed with myself to sit for an hour. It has been a decision that I have been making a lot lately. I think it was 3 weeks ago when I started to re-implement the 60-minute meditation into my home practice, after taking about 5 months off, with the exception of one or two times (I still sit everyday, but usually, I use a smaller increment of time, because I love to exercise my right to be lazy). 

The first 2 weeks was great, I was sitting these one hour sessions twice a day: one in the morning and one in the evening. I didn't miss a day, I didn't miss a session.

Then something happened. I think it was that obscure thing they call life, but I'm not positive. I'll have to get back to you on that one if I ever figure it out.

Nothing really happened, but the ebb and flow of life caught me off guard and suddenly I hit a wall with my practice. One thing I have grown to accept is that this happens. But what I haven't learned is how to handle it with grace. It's funny really, that I am doing such a great thing for myself by even trying this, but yet I can so easily get down on myself when I can't maintain such a rigorous schedule on top of teaching full time.

In those 60 minutes, on any given day, a lot can happen. Sometimes, the time flies by, and other times, it drags on for what seems like an eternity.

So what is the difference?

The mind. The reason why these 1-hour meditations can be such a burdensome task to complete is that it is ample time for the mind to run its course of madness, leaving you wishing you would have never allowed it the chance to take the center stage in the first place.

What we usually do is stay busy; we keep ourselves distracted with our daily lives, our responsibilities, our relationships, or some form of entertainment. It's much easier to come home and put a movie in then sit for an hour in complete silence.

One thing about my practice in particular that allows the mind so much time on the mic is that I don't have a set technique, other than to try to remain aware of some element of the present moment. If I was only focusing on my breath, or only repeating a mantra, it might keep my mind a little more focused. Then again, there are some days when focus seems impossible, and when that happens, those techniques can really get the mind going.

So what do I practice?

Mindfulness comes in different flavors, but that are only so many aspects of any given moment that we have the ability to mindful of. Mainly, we can be mindful of the 5 senses, and what the Buddha considered the 6th sense, the mind itself. So there is mindfulness of hearing, seeing, taste, touch, smell, and mindfulness of mind. In some practices, such as Dzogchen, which comes from Tibetan Buddhism, there is also the practice of mindfulness of awareness itself.

I guess for me, I see the value in practicing all of these different types of mindfulness, and I sort of let my experience naturally guide me from one to the next. Well, that's my intention, sometimes I just sit there impatiently waiting for the bell to sound.

The point of this article is to talk about the difficulty of this time bracket, not to talk about my practice. Hopefully I'll get more into the details of that in another article.

Waiting for the bell...

Waiting for the end of a meditation can easily be considered to be some of the worst moments of my life. It's ironic that I end up suffering so much in a practice that is designed to bring an end to suffering. In a 10, 20, 30, or 40-minute session, the suffering isn't nearly as bad. For example, in a 10-minute session, you can still easily catch yourself waiting for the bell, but when that moment arises, how much time can possibly remain?

In a 60-minute sit, who is to say how much time has expired, and how much remains? Time is relative, and you know this because you have experienced 60 minutes fly by and 60-minute eternities. So maybe time is crawling and you've only finished the first 10 minutes when you catch yourself waiting for the bell. Fifty more minutes!!! Oh man, I just might die...

Not only that, but things like an overactive mind or sleepiness really have time to consume you in this amount time. When I sit for an hour, I make sure to sit in the middle of my mat and put a pillow on the floor behind me. That way, if I fall asleep while sitting up, I won't crack my head open when it smashes into the floor. It's never happened, but I've woken up mid-fall many times, just in time to stop myself from falling completely.

And as far as the overactive mind goes, well, this is just a reality of my life and probably most people. The thoughts are endless. Dreams, fears, hopes, desires, memories--pretty much every type of mental activity gets tossed about like a load of clothes in the dryer. This can be a painstaking process to watch. Sometimes, it can bring about insight, and other times, you think someone filled your dryer with last weeks trash.

Either way, to endure the 1-hour at-home meditation, you have to just sit through it. Sit through the pain, the fears, and the dreams. Sit through the sleepiness. Sit through the anxiety, and the urge to get up and do anything else. It's all there, waiting for you on the cushion, and the choice is yours as to whether or not you are willing to see it, because chances are, you won't like everything you see.

So next time you think about meditation as some ultimate blissful journey through time and space, try it for an hour, and see if you can handle your own worst enemy, yourself. After all, there's no else there, but you.

I Visit a Local Fortune Teller

I guess it's my interest in learning more about Thai cultural takes on spirit or the soul that led me to want to visit a local fortune teller who can supposedly talk with ghosts. It's sort of a conversation that comes up regularly between my Thai co-workers and myself at school, ghosts that is, and when I said that I had heard about witch-doctors in Isaan (NE Thailand), one of my coworkers mentioned that there are some in this area as well.

Interested to know more, I asked her if she had ever to been to see such a person. She had, she said, about 7 years ago, and the woman was able to help her get rid of a spirit who had been haunting her.

Sounded pretty heady, and from my take on the whole thing, you sort of get what you ask for. In other words, if you go out looking for this stuff, you might just find it. If you keep to yourself and don't get involved, you probably won't attract any attention to yourself and you might not ever have a problem.

I guess the thing about it that made me think it was something I wanted to do was the acceptance of such beliefs in Thai culture. It's not the crazy whack-job down the street that took too many drugs in the 60's and claims to be clairvoyant. It's a woman who claims to have the ability to communicate with spirits, and leads a spiritual and respectable life. She has probably never touched a drug in her life.

Anyway, I won't bore you with speculations. I'll just relate the experience of visiting this woman.

Last week, I followed my co-worker, a 24 year-old woman, about 5 or 6 kilometers on my motorbike to the next village over. I wasn't surprised to hear my name being shouted by my students as I cruised through the main street. My school, being the largest in the area, has students in all the surrounding villages, and every time I go out exploring on my motorbike, I hear someone shout "Teacher Dougie!" Then, I usually hear about it the next time I see that student in class, and they ask what I was doing in their neck of the woods.

When we arrived at her house, I was impressed with how inviting it was. The living room was open to the outside, which is common around here, and was a wooden-floored room with almost nothing in it. No couches, furniture, nothing. You could probably fit at least a 100 people in this room. The only thing there, in the back to one side, was what I'll call the "shrine wall."

This area was garnished with vibrant colors, flowers, images, and what I assume to be decorative offerings that her visitors had given her. She had us sit on the floor in front of her, and one at a time, we offered our "problem" to her for her insight. Since you don't waste her time just for a friendly chat, and you need to have something troubling you, I offered my current mental predicament of whether or not I should ordain as a monk again, and if so, when is the right timing.

In Thailand, all men are expected to become a monk at least once in their life as a sort of symbol of coming-of-age, which usually happens shortly after they turn 20. Most men ordain for a short time, a period of a couple weeks or maybe 3 months. Then they disrobe and live out their lives as householders.

Some men return to the robes, and the number of times in which you can go back and forth is unlimited, at least as far as the monastery is concerned. As far as the community is concerned, on the other hand, a man should not be a monk more than two times, so as to not appear as one who is escaping his problems, ungrounded in his life. Since I have already ordained once, and I want to ordain again, I need to consider things carefully, and timing is everything.

Before she started her "ceremony," I bowed 3 times at her feet (she was sitting above me on a raised platform). Then, she had me light 3 candles in which she was holding, and as I did, the wax from the candles dripped into a large silvery bowl that was filled with water. She then asked me some brief questions as to the nature of my visit and my Thai co-worker helped to translate.

I won't tell you that she blew my mind with some amazing psychic reading, which is sort of what I was hoping for. She made a few assumptions about my life and was batting about 500 on her accuracy. Her main advice to me was to slow down when riding my motorbike. She said I've been driving too fast and that it was dangerous.

At some point, her son came out of his room and greeted me in a familiar way. I didn't recognize him at first, as he was out of his uniform, but she confirmed that "my son is your student." I probably have 700-800 students, so recognizing them when I see them outside of school can be difficult. "Wow," I thought, "pretty heady mom you got there..."

After she asked me about personal things, she asked if I wanted to bathe with some holy water. I didn't really know what to expect, but I said yes in order to find out. She had my co-worker lead me into a back corner which had a wooden platform and was blocked by a sheet in the front. She instructed me to strip down and cover myself with one of the sarongs (a sheet-like skirt) that was hanging from the wall.

When I came out, she had me sit down on a stool with my legs out-stretched in front of me. I was now sitting on a porch, but was right next to the fortune-teller who hadn't moved and was still sitting on her platform inside the living room. Again, the boundaries between inside and outside in these places is a grey area.

She had me hold my hands together in a gesture of respect, and then she put the bowl, the one which contained the wax droppings from the beginning of the ceremony, up to my mouth and had me drink from it. I did just that, and started chugging waxy water before she took the bowl away and said that was enough.

Then, she apparently took a mouthful of the water, and proceeded to spit it with full force into the side of my head. And then she did it again, two more times. I can't say that I was able to hide the smile that was on my face, but I was able to keep it under control for the most part. It was mostly from the brute force of the blow to the head and the sound that her mouth made that got me going. But also, I had to wonder, what the hell is this about??

She then took what was left of the bowl and said some things in Thai as she poured it over my head and my body. In about 10 more seconds, my co-worker, who had been standing by, said okay, you're done, you can get dressed now.

Back in the living room, fully dressed, I was told to sit at her feet again. This time, she used some sort of white paint to draw a symbol on my forehead and tied a good-luck bracelet around my wrist. She gave me two more to put on my motorbike to keep me safe. She also gave me a plastic pendant that had two dead bugs in it, which I thought was pretty strange, and told me to tie it onto the necklace with monk-pendants that I was already wearing. And finally, she gave me a gift which was like a fake flower, a candle, and a little trinket wrapped in plastic and told me to put it over my head at night for good luck, and I was on my way.

Me with the symbol she painted on my forehead...

Dead-bug pendant she gave me.

Her whole operation is based on donations with a minimum donation of 29 baht per visit, which is less than $1. Before the ceremony had begun, I put 100 baht on a platter that was full of money from that day's visitors. By the time we had gotten there in the early evening, there was no one else there, but she mentioned         that she had a steady stream of visitors all day.

Here she is in front of her shine wall.

I must say that I felt good upon leaving, and that if nothing else, I found the woman to be very kind and genuine, and that she really wished me to be safe, happy, and healthy. It was sort of like visiting an Aunt that you don't know well and don't see often, but that loves you and never lets you leave without a gift.

So did she answer my question? Well, I dunno, sort of, but I think she was so surprised to have a
farang (foreigner) visitor, that she spent more time "chatting" with me than answering my question. She did say that if I wanted to be a monk again, I should wait until next year, and mentioned something about this year being unlucky for me to ordain.

All in all, I am glad I went to see this woman, and would be open to furthering my investigation into the unknown aspects of Thai culture.

Sunset on the drive home...

Flooding In Sukhothai

The only city in my province, Sukhothai (which is also the name of the province), has been flooding this week as the Yom River, which runs through downtown, broke some of the levees that contain it and leaked into downtown, covering a 5 square kilometer area in as much as 1.5 meters of water.

I just had to see it for myself, so I went in to check things out...

A very high Yom River.

To my surprise, the scene was extremely peaceful. Yes, the downtown area streets were completely underwater, and yes, people were using boats to get to and fro, but it was quiet, and the expressions on people's faces were that of curiosity and maybe even amusement. There were many relief workers, soldiers, and police officers directing traffic, driving large trucks around, and helping people. Although, as I found out, the directing of traffic was more like "proceed at your own risk and I'll stand here and see if you make it."

I did make it though, into the middle of the flooded zone, on my little motorbike, but soon found that the 5-way intersection, which was a high-point and fairly dry, offered no better exit route than the one in which I had rode in on. I was hoping for something a little drier, as I ended up getting my shoes totally soaked the first time, but upon scanning the other streets, I realized they all contained much more water than the first one.

The whole thing was surreal, mainly because of how calm and seemingly happy everyone appeared to be. The first thing that came to mind was:

Why are all these people smiling?

These girls were certainly enjoying themselves...

I've never seen a flood first-hand in the U.S, but from what I've seen on TV, I seem to recall scenes of people panicing, crying, and devastated. What I don't recall is people smiling, laughing, and playing in the water.

Okay, so maybe it's true that I missed the worst of this flood, and maybe these people were freaking out the first day or two (I probably saw it on the 3rd or 4th day). But even then, I doubt people were freaking out like I would expect them to.

So why is this? What makes these people so able to handle this unfortunate situation with grace?

Did they expect the unexpected, or were they neither expecting, nor not-expecting the unexpected?

I believe that these simple Thai people didn't expect flooding to happen, but they weren't surprised by it either.

It just happened. Life happens. How we react to it is really the difference between living in harmony with nature, creation, God, or whatever you want to call it, or not. Maybe these Thai people weren't expecting something terrible to happen, but they weren't living in a fragile bubble either.

Many families that I know in the U.S. live in these little bubbles of fear. "God forbid that anything would happen to us!"

Well guess what, something will happen to each and every one of us: we are all going to die!!!

Our expectations, whether it's that something will happen, or that something won't happen, don't serve us for finding peace and happiness in this life. If anything, they make us vulnerable and desperate, with a mind that is always leaning toward, or away from something.

I love living in Thailand. Thai people are so wonderful! They are kind, respectful, and easy-going, and everyday I find there is so much for me to learn from them. When I think about why they are this way, I can't help but to think it's because they have accepted that they can't control everything, and that things happen. They don't walk around thinking that the world owes them something, but in no way are the pessimistic either. They are humble. They are patient. And when something out of their control doesn't go the way they want it to, they smile, laugh, or shrug it off. After all, what else can you do?

Read more about the flood here:

http://www.nationmultimedia.com/national/Flooding-caught-Sukhothai-officials-napping-30190302.html

Neither Expecting, Nor Not Expecting the Unexpected

Some people say that the key to not being disappointed is to expect the unexpected. The "surprise" element that occurs when something unexpected happens has the ability to "rattle your cage," thus leaving you shaken up and wondering where the sucker punch came from as you pick yourself up off the ground and dust yourself off.

So, with this theory of "expecting the unexpected," we would walk around waiting for life to throw us a curveball, or for someone to literally punch us while we're not looking. What madness this is! What kind of quality of mind is available to someone who is always waiting for something terrible to happen?

We all know someone like this, or we may even fit this description from time-to-time. I can think of many occasions--vacations, parties, weddings, etc. (any time when expectations seem to be high)--when something bad has happened, and someone is quick to chime in with the hindsight is 20-20 psychic update by adding, "I knew this was going to happen!"

In meditation, we set the intention to observe things as they happen naturally. We don't go out looking for them, nor are we trying to avoid them. In this way, we hope to have a mind that can adapt to any situation with grace. It's not that we're ready for anything, but rather that we are open, receptive, and have the willingness to accept anything that comes our way. Well, we have the intention to be willing to accept anything that comes our way. As I've found out, setting intentions doesn't always guarantee the desired results. But don't worry, this is just a practice, and there's no one here judging except for ourselves. 

This open and willing-to-accept mind is the mental position of a Spiritual Warrior; neither prepared nor caught off guard. In between these lies a plane of clarity, compassion, and non-resistance; exactly what is required for a warrior to face the inevitable challenges that life has in store for each and every one of us. 

It comes as no surprise to me that I often find that my mind has unconsciously drifted from this plane of equanimity. One example that I like to use is the death of a loved on. With this situation, I find that my mind, in order to save itself from a catastrophe, has prepared itself by expecting the unexpected, and if I sit with that, it's easy to see that it has lost it's balance. 

Equanimity, in Buddhism, is neither leaning toward something or away from it. So an equanimous mind doesn't expect anything, nor does it not expect anything. It isn't ready, but it's always aware, watching the experience of life as it unfolds from moment-to-moment without judgment. 

After all, there is nothing that is supposed to happen in this life. Likewise, there is nothing that is not supposed to happen. It's all just happening; the rest are expectations. 

So what's wrong with expectations? 

Unless you are born a saint, the practice of meditation can sometimes be a bit like walking into a dark alley in a bad neighborhood at night. You know that there are going to be things waiting for you that could bring harm to your life, but how your carry yourself may be the secret to coming out in one piece. If you go in expecting that someone is going to hurt you, you will most likely attract just that. If you go in like your strolling through the park, completely oblivious to the dangers that lie ahead, you will still probably attract the least desirable of outcomes. 

So how exactly should someone walk into a dangerous alley at night? Well, again, no one should or shouldn't do anything, we're just talking about attracting the kind of results that will be favorable to the outcomes that we desire. If you are looking for a fight or are suicidal, by all means, take a different approach! But if you are looking for a peaceful alternative to getting robbed, beaten, shot, or stabbed, there is a certain manner in which you could approach the situation that will give you a better chance of coming out unscathed.

What has worked for me in these situations, and yes there have been quite a few that have matched this description--both literally and figuratively--is to stay calm, present, and positive. Yes, the possibility of of negative outcomes was on my mind, and yes I was fearful. I would even say that my attempts to hide my fear were feeble. But that's okay, the dangerous men in the back alleys of the world want to see that you know they are running things in their neighborhood. Otherwise, if there was any doubt in their minds as to whether or not I knew, I am more than willing to bet that they would have made sure I found out, one way or another. So I couldn't hide my fear, but there was also another important element, one that I am here to say we have a little more control over, and that is love. 

Wearing a smile, whether you are exploring the backroads of your mind or surrounded by gangsters in a dead-end alley at 3 in the morning, is the closest thing to a life-jacket, or a bullet-proof vest, that your going to find in your tool-bag at any given time. It doesn't have to be a big one, and it doesn't even have to be genuine, but just enough to show the threat that you know the potential risk factors and yet you're still crazy/courageous enough to be there (or is it just stupid??).

So next time you find yourself in a precarious situation, or thinking about the possibility of one happening, you can check in with the mind. Is it reaching for something? Is it running away from something else? Or do you have that twisted little smile on your face, not expecting, nor not expecting, the unexpected?

But besides potentially saving your life from dangerous criminals or avoiding a spiritual breakdown when you stumble upon the skeletons in your karmic closet, the most obvious reason to not have expectations at all is to avoid being disappointed. 

Especially in meditation, being mindful of your expectations, and not letting them run rampant, is the closest thing to a parachute you're going to find when it comes to flying into enemy territory. No need to look for anything, and no need to fear the unknown. The worst that can happen is you might learn something about yourself that you sort-of-wish you never found out about, but now that you did, you are glad because it finally allows you the beautiful opportunity to confront the forces within that perpetuate suffering in your life. Oh, and when you do, don't forget to smile :)

Battling Bugs and a Vow of Non-Violence in Thailand

It's been a while since I 'lost it' like I did after school the other day, so instead of pretending like it never happened, being that there were no witnesses and all, I am deciding it best to confront my failure through this exposition.

There were a number of elements that contributed to the meltdown, and time was definitely one of them. But I'm not here to make excuses; I'm here to confess.

I am writing this from Bangkok, about a 6 hour bus ride from where I'm currently living in Sukhothai Province. I've had plans to come down here for the past week or so, to visit a friend, and had secured a ride part-way from a co-worker/friend who happens to go that same direction every weekend to spend time at his home with his family.

He is a patient man, and I doubt my tardiness in getting ready to leave was testing this patience, but when people go out of their way to do something nice for me, I feel compelled to make it as easy for them as possible.

So when he knocked on my door on Friday at about ten past 5, wondering if I was ready, I knew I needed to step it up into overdrive, as I hadn't finished eating yet and still needed to hop in the shower. I was prepared to skip the shower, given that he was standing there waiting, but he afforded me an extra ten minutes by admitting he had forgotten something at home, and returned to get it.

Perfect, I thought, just enough time to finish eating (I was almost done anyway) and rinse myself off before throwing a few things into a bag and boom, out the door to Bangkok. The plan would have worked fine, too, if it weren't for one tiny detail.

After showering, I threw on a new t-shirt, one that was nice and loose and would be comfortable for a long bus ride. As soon as the shirt was over my head, I felt a little prickly sensation, and then another. Hmm, I thought, maybe the fabric is a little rough since it hasn't been washed yet.

But after another moment or two, the sensations increased in quantity and in intensity. "What is happening?!" It became too much, and my arms started to flair about in a way that had anyone seen, they surely would have found it difficult to refrain from laughter.

I decided to take up the front of the shirt, to see just what the deal with this fabric was. Maybe it was some cheap polyester or something that was just scratchy in general. But upon revealing the inside of the shirt, and a slight focus of my hurried eyes, and what is that, "Oh my God this shirt is swarming with TINY TINY ants!!!"

I think it's safe to say that this is about when the meltdown proceeded to take place.

I ripped the shirt off as quickly as possible, but it was too late. My bare skin revealed my upper body to be covered with these little buggers, many whom of which had already bitten me.

If there was a choice as to what to do next, some sort of window of opportunity in which I could have taken a different path, I must have missed it. Any flailing that had begun when the shirt was on just increased by hundred-fold. Now, I was swiping and swatting every inch of myself I could get to, and using a different shirt to slap my back with.

I tried to catch them before it was too late, but there was just too many. I saw several escape down my boxers just as the phone rang. It was my friend, waiting at the front gate of my bungalow complex, wondering if now I was ready yet. He had a slight chuckle in his voice too, signifying that I should have had plenty of time to prepare after being given an extra ten minutes.

I suppose the fact that I took a vow of non-violence almost 2 years ago is what makes this a complete disaster on my end. I have been doing really well with it too, until now. Sure, there have been a few ants and mosquitos that have died by my hand, but not maliciously, and usually by complete accident. And some others that have drowned after finding their way into a dirty dish that was finally taken into the bathroom to be washed (I don't have a kitchen, or even a sink for that matter, so I wash my dishes by using a spigot in the bathroom).

Half of my above-average Thai bathroom, notice the spigot on the right, which is the closest thing I have to a sink.

But the difference is that I never intentionally had the desire to kill these tiny little creatures, not until the meltdown. That was really the point of taking the vow in the first place. It's not so much to save mosquitos and tiny ants from an untimely death, but more to purify my mind from the desire to harm another living being. As I found out, this desire to harm other living beings wasn't rinsed clear from my psyche, it had just been lying dormant, suppressed by the intention to do otherwise. A few years ago, this would have just been another insect killing rampage, but on this fateful day, it was the collapse of an entire way of life.

I didn't have a mirror in front of me, but I'm sure my face was bright red. I muttered something to the effect of "yeah yeah I'll be out in a second" and hung-up the phone before screaming every possible cuss word I could, nearly at the top of my lungs. The pain and unnerving sensations covering what was now my entire body was over-the-top unbearable.

As I took the opportunity to reflect on my current state, I was genuinely taken back by the whole thing, and felt about as low as I have for a long time now. I continued to jiggle, shake, swat, and swipe every square inch of myself, hoping to get these tiny ants off of me as I threw the last of my belongings in my bag, grabbed a new shirt, and ran out the door.

I was nearly to the point of cancelling the whole thing: I knew there were so many still on my body and more than anything I just wanted to hop in the shower and make sure they were off of me, but also because I was ashamed of how little I felt in that moment, how quickly I dropped my convictions and lost control.

So what is it about this story that I feel is worth sharing?

Now that I'm sitting here, feeling fairly recovered from the whole thing, I'm glad it happened, as I actually find it quite hilarious how ridiculous I must have looked and only regret that there was no hidden camera there to film it (or was there??).

If there is a lesson to be learned from my little, or should I say dozens and dozens, if not hunrdreds of tiny mishaps, I intend to learn it.

Obviously, I came face to face with "myself" in that moment, and learned more about my current situation than I have in a while. Afterall, I am a pretty calm and collected individual these days, and I haven't lost that calm, at least completely, in what seems to be a very long time. So what went wrong, and what ugly aspect of my current collection of conditions resulted in having this meltdown?

In my opinion, the lesson here has to do with expectations. Especially for us westerners, we seem to carry with us expectations that certain things are supposed to happen for us or that we shouldn't have to experience certain things.

No, I didn't have the expectation that my clean shirts shouldn't be covered with tiny ants, but I did have the expectation that when I applied a clean article of clothing, it wouldn't contain such bonus materials. Is there a difference? I think it's the difference between craving and aversion, which I talked about in my last post. If craving is wanting something, aversion is really just the flip side of that: not wanting something. In Buddhist meditation, we try to witness these elements occurring within us first-hand, but as I found out, you don't need to be sitting cross-legged to realize they are at work in our lives on a daily basis.

So no, I hadn't been walking around thinking that my shirts should be free of ants, but just the flip side of that, that my clean shirts would  be free of ants. On that fateful day, that expectation, that I didn't even realize I had, came to the main-stage of my life, and boy was it ugly.

Yes, I live in a tropical climate, yes there are a lot of bugs, and yes I find myself sweeping them out of my house almost everyday. Anything that is in contact with a flat surface is subject to infestation. The new shirt, which had been laid out on the bed that I don't use for anything other than a giant shelf (I sleep on a thin mat on the floor), was a prime target. And, given that they had recently been obsessed with a jar of q-tips and a box of package peanuts, I should have known that a new shirt might also get their attention.

So was it my fault that they got into my shirt? I dunno, maybe, but that's not the point. The point is that I was caught off guard, I was completely and utterly surprised to find they had found a new home in my new t-shirt. Looking back, it shouldn't have been such a surprise, after all, in this neck of the woods, these tiny little 6-legged insects are everywhere! 

Some of the aforementioned ants in action in an unrelated incident.

*Stay tuned for more on expectations in my next post...