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. 

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.

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...

Shining the Light Backstage

In my last post, I wrote about the importance of what’s happening behind the scenes in our lives, and the tendency to cover up those ugly aspects with that which is beautiful. Today, I will talk a little more about what those ugly aspects can look like, and what we can do to bring them into focus so that we may be able to overcome them.

So what are some of these ugly aspects that tend to be overlooked?

For me, when I stop and take a good look at myself, there are all sorts of places where I bump up into “myself.” And in this case, I mean “myself” to be all those layers that have accumulated over time that separate me from the rest of the world.

These tend to be things like judgments, insecurities, impatience, jealousy, anger, fear, resentment, and blame.

In Buddhism, these are known and kilesas, or defilements of the mind. The main three kilesas are greed, hatred, and delusion. The role they play in the prevention of our attainment of inner peace and true happiness is that they are the same as the 3 Poisons, also known as the 3 Afflictions, which are craving/attachment, aversion, and ignorance.

According to the Buddha, these three ugly aspects of our lives will keep us trapped in the wheel of samsara, or suffering. Basically, if we go on chasing that which we want, pushing away that which we don’t want, and thinking that this behavior will bring us happiness, we will never see the end of suffering.

I don’t pretend to be a scholarly expert of Buddhist terms and concepts, but more someone who practices the teachings on a daily basis, so let’s go right into my experience with these three things in hopes that we can clarify some of your confusion.

How can we become aware of these defilements?

First I will say that mindfulness, or the practice of being aware of what’s happening in any given moment, is the Buddha’s answer to dissolving ignorance. The best way to practice mindfulness, especially when the mind is not yet trained, is through meditation. Really, that’s what this is all about.

So in my meditation practice, I have seen these three defilements at work, nearly every time I have ever been willing and able to do so. I say willing and able because sometimes I just don’t want to leave the comfort of my own delusion, usually unconsciously, and other times, I am so blinded by my own delusion that it just doesn’t occur to me that they are even there.

It doesn’t have to be some grand concept here, that’s the beauty of Vipassana, or Insight Meditation; you can just take one little aspect of your experience, and all of the teachings are right there.

One place that’s easy to start is with the breath. Sometimes the breath is short and sometimes it’s long. But my mind doesn’t like that; it likes to think that if the breath would just be smooth and consistent, meditation would be happening. But in Vipassana, we don’t look to alter or correct our situation; we look to discover it. So right there, we find all three of the poisons are present.

Craving/Attachment: Instead of being OK with the quality of my breath, the mind desires the breath to be something that it is not. Sometimes, it is smooth, and sometimes, it is choppy and inconsistent. This is only natural. If the mind is always reaching for a smooth and consistent breath, it will never become calm, stable, and able to pierce through the veils of illusion.

Aversion: This is really just the flipside of craving and attachment. When the mind observes the breath as being inconsistent and choppy, it reacts by pushing that choppiness away. If we are not careful, we will find that the mind has taken over and is spending time trying to smooth out this breath. This experience happens to me pretty much every time I sit down on my cushion to meditate.

Sometimes, when I don’t have enough concentration to do anything else, I will intentionally smooth out the breath and bring more air into my lungs. This is usually when I am too drowsy to stay awake and stay focused. Granted, it’s probably better to do this than to just give up and stop practicing, but anytime spent controlling, instead of allowing, is not time spent seeing things for they way they really are, which is why I’m here in the first place.

Ignorance: This is really the fuel to the two fires of craving/attachment and aversion. Ignorance is just the belief that if we are able to bring something into our lives or get rid of something, we will be happy. It fails to recognize the transitory nature of all conditioned phenomenon, or the concept of anicca, which says that everything that arises, passes away.

When we shine the line of awareness onto these three aspects of our lives, it’s easy to see how often they are at work, behind the scenes, and how much control they have over the performance on the main-stage.

Can you think of an example with that new car or phone you’ve been wanting, or that job that makes you miserable that you can’t wait to get away from? Maybe it’s with a relationship. As soon as you can be with that guy or that girl, you’ll be happy. Or, as soon as that roommate who drives you crazy moves out, you’ll be happy. Really, it’s any sentence that can be formed with this structure: “As soon as _______________, I’ll be happy.”

So what is the practice here; how do we get rid of these defilements?

The practice is probably my favorite part, in which I will cover in brief detail in this post. Basically, all we have to do is keep watching, and try not to judge. Does it take some faith? I don’t think so, just maybe some patience. Wisdom works on its own, after it recognizes the same defilements over and over again, and realizes that they are no longer serving us.

The Buddha always encouraged his followers to practice this for themselves, not just take his word for it. So that’s what I am here to do, and so far, everything I have come to realize through the practice of mindful observation has been aligned with what the Buddha taught.

Okay, so maybe what I have come to realize is pretty insignificant compared to all the things he covered in his 45 years of teaching, but I’m just trying to take it one step, or one breath, at a time.

So the question is, can we accept what is happening in any given moment, and realize that we have everything we need, or are we always going to want things to be different, always one step away from that which we need to feel content?

The choice isn’t always ours to make, as the layers of conditioning are largely behind the wheel in our lives, but what we can do, is be willing to take a look, and be willing to keep looking when what we see is ugly.