Back to Reality

Reality is a slippery little devil.  Our minds are so adept at creating our own version of reality that the boundaries between what is real and what is not can become so blurred as to be indistinguishable.

Our thoughts can control us so much that they can keep us running around in circles, spinning off into the depths of our minds and in doing so, missing out on all the wonders and also the reality of the present moment.  Most people don’t enjoy being in the present moment – they avoid it at all costs. However, this is because they have probably, for the most part, never ever truly experienced being in the present moment. (See my previous blog post on mindtraps for more on this subject – https://downtheforestpath.wordpress.com/?s=mindtraps.)

But I digress.  Problems arise when our perceptions of reality become twisted with the imaginative and creative thought processes that our human brains are so capable of.  This was made clear when my husband received a phone call last night from someone he hadn’t heard from in a long time.  When he queried why the person hadn’t been in touch (he didn’t have their number) they stated that he had become upset at their last conversation, and that he had put the  phone down on them.

This was not true – I don’t believe he has ever put the phone down on anyone, and especially would never do so to this person.  This person had left the real conversation months ago, and was not satisfied with the outcome.  And so, this person developed in their minds ways that it would appear that they had been wronged, so that they could continue to avoid reality and live in their preferred state of being the victim.  They may have told and retold the story of the conversation in their minds over and over again, changing the details until, after a period of days, weeks or months, reality had changed. Stories change with the telling, we know this.  But we are fooling ourselves when we keep changing reality to suit our own egos and emotions.

I remember times when I’ve done this myself in the past – sometimes it is to justify certain behaviour, or to explain events.  The key is to become aware of when you are doing it, to stop and say “Right.  I know what the facts are, and I’m going to stick to them, and not change them to suit my own desires”.  I still get surprised when I see this in other people – I’ve had people accuse me of certain things, of promising others and of creating a totally separate reality to that which actually occurred.  It can be hurtful, at times, until you understand the thought process that creates this – you then realise that you had no part in it, that it became an entity totally foreign to your own being.

This doesn’t mean that you are not responsible for your actions – we all must be the best human beings we can at this present moment. Actions have consequences. However, we must also be aware and have some compassion for those who are caught up in their own realities, to a certain extent. We don’t have to live in them, or even partake of that reality, but we can understand the reasons why.

We have to learn how to live in the here and now.  Being alive and present in the here and now allows no time for emotional attachment to our thoughts and feelings – we still respond emotionally to situations, but we don’t become attached to the emotion itself.  As I left work yesterday, after a long staff meeting, my colleague was upset at what was said about our department, which was, unwittingly or not, derogatory.  Not only does this emphasise that we need to think very clearly before we speak, but also that we also cannot attach to the emotions that follow after a certain event.  I too was very displeased with the outcome of the meeting and the insinuation, and driving home could feel anger welling inside, threatening to ruin the whole drive home and run well into the evening. However, I caught myself, and brought myself back to reality and the present moment.  What was the present moment? Driving home, in the late afternoon sun, putting miles between myself and the event, figuratively and literally.  It was no longer happening now, except in my head.  I could either let it continue to live in my head, or simply enjoy the evening. I chose the latter.

This doesn’t mean that the issue will not be dealt with. It will, in a calm, rational and compassionate way.  But it won’t dictate reality for me – reality is what it is, and nothing more.  When the time is appropriate, the issue will be raised without undo emotional attachment to the residual event that still exists in our minds, which may have altered slightly or even greatly since the actual event occurred – reality is a slippery devil indeed.  I will not go over the event again and again in my mind, perhaps changing reality in doing so.  I will deal with the facts.

Let us continue to tell stories, but not make up the story of our own life.  Our own lives are brilliant and fascinating enough – we don’t need to add more drama to them.  By doing so, we will miss our own lives, living instead in our minds and foregoing some of the wondrous nature that is constantly unfolding right before our very eyes.  We can hurt other people by making up stories to suit our egos and our needs, and the person whom we hurt most is ourselves.

Reality is not such a bad place.  Really.

 

The benefits of meditation

Sitting in meditation with awareness transcends into every aspect of your life. I know it has done mine. It’s so hard, and yet so simple – simply to sit for at least 15 mins to half an hour each day, in total awareness.

At first it’s really hard not to fidget – trying to get comfortable, the mind is doing everything it can to move the body so that we don’t have to feel this very moment, in all its glory or mundaneness. That is my biggest hurdle – the sitting still part. Sometimes I simply can’t, and then a walking meditation will take the place of sitting meditation. However, the importance of keeping that butt on that cushion should not be underestimated.

Forcing myself into stillness, I can then imagine a rock being thrown into a pond – it settles to the bottom of its own accord, and find the stillness. Then, it is time to simply “be” in the present moment. Feeling the tension in my shoulders, hearing the wind howl outside, thick with snow. Hearing the central heating come on, the soft padding of a cat entering the room. Smelling the incense, seeing the light of the candle upon my altar. For a few, brief moments, it is blissful and relaxing.

Then come the thoughts – anyone who has ever tried to meditate knows the flurry of thoughts that will fly through your head at any given moment. It can sometimes be a Herculean task to just sit when all these thoughts are going through your head – if you’re moving, you don’t have to think about them, or notice that they are passing through your head with lightning speed. But sitting still and facing all these thoughts – it can sometimes seem futile. I’ve heard so many people say “I can’t meditate – I can’t turn off, switch off; I keep thinking a million things”. You’ve got to persevere.

So, in sitting meditation, in zazen, we don’t try to push away all these thoughts – what we learn to do is to become the observer. It’s all about noticing the thoughts that go through the mind, without attaching to them and becoming lost in them. As soon as we attach to them, we’ve lost our awareness, our sense of being an observer – instead we are a willing or unwilling participant in them, and the benefits of meditation we will rarely see.

So, with all these thoughts whizzing through my head, I become the observer. I notice that I’m thinking about the belly dance show that I’m putting on in October, that I have to start dinner soon, that a friend hasn’t been in contact for months, that the car windscreen has a sticky annoying film on it that just won’t go away – noticing the thoughts without going into them – which is supremely difficult for some thoughts. And I am not always successful either, but I eventually do catch myself getting absorbed in the thoughts at some point, and bring my attention and awareness back into the room where I am sitting in front of the alter, with the candle and incense and cats sleeping around me.

Slowly, the more and more I meditate, the less and less I become absorbed in these thoughts. However, we all have good days and bad days. But I have found when I don’t meditate for a few days, I can and do get lost in my thoughts, creating drama out of them, or becoming easily annoyed with myself or other people around me – losing that sense of connectedness, compassion and empathy. For the benefits of sitting meditation carry through into all aspects of life – seeping through like springwater into the surrounding areas, benefiting all with its nourishment.

The more I do zazen, the less irritable I am (though again, we all have good days and bad days). I notice tension in my body more throughout the day. I notice when I am being self-centred, and when I am losing myself in the drama that I have created to give my life more importance. Sitting meditation makes you realise that all this drama is self-created to a large extent. While some tragedies can still occur, the correlating attachment to them will be lessened, and life flows that much easier even in the midst of major trauma or upheaval.

You have to want to meditate. People who say they cannot perhaps haven’t tried hard enough, or don’t want it enough in their lives. You have to be willing to commit to a certain amount of time and effort each and every day, and also to a commitment not to change yourself, but to become better aware of yourself, and by doing so, flow through life better. Obstacles will still be there, but like water we can flow around them instead of slamming into them again and again, never getting any further along the way.

Your life will become more active, and less reactive – instead of reacting to every situation, you can act with empathy and compassion; your ability to respond well increases each and every day. It is a responsibility – the ability to respond. It is also learning discipline, to sit when you don’t feel like it, to be aware of your body when your mind and body both are rebelling against it, and would rather be in the made-up world of your mind instead of sitting in the reality of the here and now.

Slowly, that awareness gained through sitting meditation will affect everything you say and do, for the better. The goal is not self-improvement, however – the goal is to be in the here and now, this very moment in this very life, and to see the joy and wonder that it truly is. We are gifted with long lives, should nothing unforeseen happen, and minds that can be trained back into awareness – let’s use them to the best of our ability. By doing so, a sense of connection to the here and now, to all the beautiful life around us, will be achieved – which makes it worth the effort.

Defeating the Goblin King

Dreams
I’m a big David Bowie fan, after having fallen in love with him as a young teenager, watching Jim Henson’s film, Labyrinth. He played the Goblin King, a creature who was used to getting things his own way – he was all powerful, and the Labyrinth was his to control. Or so he thought.

It’s a wonderful tale, of a young girl coming into adolescence, of learning that life is not always what it seems, and that life is unfair. It’s also about making friendships along the way, about being kind and also familial obligations. There are so many ways to interpret the film, and I thought to look at it from a Zen point of view. It was interesting.

Our thoughts often control us, without our even realising it. These thoughts, these intangible things, have so much power over our lives. We believe in our thoughts so much, and hold to them so much. We hold on so tightly to our thoughts, and to ourselves. Who would we be without our thoughts?

Yet in Zen we try to realise the control that our thoughts have over us, by acknowledging them, by becoming the observer. Bit by bit, as we sit in meditation and go through our daily lives, we begin to see patterns emerging. We may have a thought about ourselves – I’m artistic. We tell everyone that, reinforcing that thought. Yet that is not all that we are – we may be good with animals, gardening, maths, etc. The repetitive thoughts, the ones that we say over and over again to ourselves, become a reality for us. Yet they are still thoughts, not reality. There is no substance to them.

Of course, not all thoughts are bad. We need to think, to work out problems, to get out of bed in the morning even. It is in the attachment to the thoughts that gives them a false substance, a false reality. It also can give us great pleasure, living in this fantasy land of our thoughts – it means the hardships of real life cannot affect us there. We are safe, in the bubble of our thoughts.

Most of us spend a lot of time being controlled by our thoughts – we never even realise it. Much like Sarah, the protagonist in the film, was being controlled by the Jareth, the Goblin King without her knowledge, we aren’t even aware of the power that they hold over us. They make us run around in circles, not getting anywhere, simply thinking, thinking, thinking – where is the doing? Where is the experience? We get angry at someone, and have a thought about that. Then we attach to that thought, and it can affect us for the rest of the day, week, year, or our entire lives. We all have emotional responses to situations, and thoughts about everything – but the attachment to them is where stumble and fall on each and every step. There is no progress – we’ve fallen down the oubliette of our thoughts until we are completely trapped in a small, dark and confined space.

Instead of simply experiencing the anger and then letting it go, we’ve become a prisoner of our thoughts about the situation. And all the while, the Goblin King laughs to himself, safe in his tower, loving to watch us run around in circles as the sands of time run out.

When we sit in zazen, however, we begin to notice our thoughts, our patterns of behaviour. By being the observer, we can take a step back from our thoughts and look at them without attaching to them. We can see the physical manifestations of them in our body as well – a contraction in our jaw, the hunching of our shoulders, our heart beating faster. By becoming aware, of thoughts, and indeed, of all our surroundings, we are better able to respond to situations than before. Sarah didn’t see through the illusion for a long time in the film – even though she was reminded by other characters, time and again, that nothing is what it seems. Slowly though, the illusion wavered, and the cracks in the false reality began to show. The bubble was broken, and Sarah was somewhat freed, for a time. When she finally saw through the illusion fully, and took the great leap into the unknown, literally and figuratively, that’s when she was able to come face to face with the Goblin King himself, to bring him out of hiding and face him in a final battle.

So, after much practice in zazen, after much meditation and time spent being the observer to all the thoughts that run around in our head, without getting caught up in them, we face them down. We say “enough” – we are not going to be controlled by them any longer. We see the thoughts for what they are. The thoughts fight back, with everything that they’ve got – Jareth holds out the most potent, alluring thing that we all hold so dear – our dreams. He offers them to Sarah, but Sarah now sees through the false reality. She then recites the final lines from her book back to the Goblin King, saying the powerful, magical words that will defeat him.

“Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City, to take back the child that you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great. You have no power over me.”

Those six words – “you have no power over me” is what can release us from the labyrinth of our minds, from the traps that our thoughts can create when we attach to them. We suddenly become free, to experience, to return to our pure self, to break loose of the chains and to truly live life to the fullest.

So, the next time we fall into despair, wishing our lives were different, we can simply say those six words – you have no power over me. When our minds are rushing around as we try to meditate, we simply observe them without getting caught up in them, and repeat you have no power over me. When someone says something nasty to us, we feel the emotion, we react (hopefully with compassion) and then we let the experience go, without attaching to it, simply by saying you have no power over me.

Then and only then can the Goblin King be defeated, and we freed from the labyrinth of our minds.

Though, I must admit, I’m sure some of us would prefer to stay in there with David Bowie 😉

Living the Dream…

Life can have so many problems. Life isn’t just life for most people. Sometimes it’s like trying to fart against a thunderstorm. Other days it’s all unicorns and rainbows. But looking deeper, into the reasons why we hurt, why we suffer, we begin to see patterns emerging that can help us to stop living the dream. Stop living the dream? Why would we want to do that? Isn’t “living the dream” the whole goal of life?

Our problems can seem huge to us at times. Yet these problems are only the front line – there is usually a deeper problem underneath that hides in the layers of these other problems. The trick is to spot the tricky little devils. Sitting with the problems helps – literally sitting yourself down, maybe having a chat with yourself and then some good old mindful meditation can do the trick. The more we do this, the easier it gets to spot the real problem.

Today, I felt bad – I felt used. I thought that was my problem. After sitting myself down, I realised that wasn’t the real problem – the real problem was insecurity. Peeling away the layers revealed this deep-rooted problem – and then I realised that it wasn’t really a problem either. I was feeling insecure. A feeling is a thought with an emotion attached to it, which often manifests itself physically in the body. I was in a state of contraction – I needed to release the contraction somehow, and the best way to do that is to understand it. Once understood, it was an “oh, of course” moment. The bad feelings left. In fact, it wasn’t even bad – it was just life.

Our problems, our depression, our anger occurs when life doesn’t happen the way we would like it to. When we understand this, we see our folly – life happens. The winds blow without first consulting us, people die without saying goodbye, friends come and friends go – there’s nothing we can do about that. What we can do is alter our reactions to it all.

So, instead of living the dream, why not try living the reality? That is where the real gem lies.

Face to Face or Phone to Phone?

phoneSocial media today has led, as many are probably aware, to a serious decline in face to face interaction.  We are a social species, and everyone needs a little social interaction.  What I am discovering more and more is that people are forgetting, or never even learning, the niceties of a social situation – standing in line at the fairtrade coffee house and actually making eye contact with the person in front/behind you, maybe even smiling and talking to them.  I think we all, to a certain degree, need a little social interaction – face to face, even if we are self-proclaimed “not a ‘people person’”.  We are in dire peril of losing all our social graces. And yes, I do realise the slight hypocrisy of making my views aware on an online blog. 🙂

Last month when I went out to dinner with my husband and father in law, I noticed a couple at the table next to us.  They barely said two words to each other – either one or both spent most of the time on their mobile phones – not talking to other people on the phone, but presumably doing something with an app, or most likely checking social network sites.  I was truly saddened by this.  How many people spend their lives, head down, looking at a small screen to catch up with the latest? What about the world going on around them?

A few months before, in a crowded bar my friend and I asked to join a couple of lads at their table, as there were none free and my back was hurting – I needed to sit down.  They kindly agreed, and spent most of the time talking to themselves – fine, I wasn’t looking for conversation with them at any rate.  However, when one went to the bar to get drinks for the both of them, and my friend was also at the bar, I was left alone with one of the lads.  As soon as he was left alone, he went head down to his phone, completely ignoring everything and everyone around him.  Same thing happened at my local pub, sitting at the bar and chatting with the bartender and the bloke next to me – as soon as she left to get an order the bloke next to me put his head down and went straight for the phone.  Why go the pub at all?

What I worry about is the ability to interact with people in real life situations seriously declining.  Mere politeness is on the decrease, as any walk down a busy London street can testify.  I’m not expecting an ethical debate on animal testing, or politics, or whatever from someone standing in line with you, but what I would like to suggest is to put down the phone and at least acknowledge the person near you. Or at the very least, put the device away when you are walking down the street – a friend of mine nearly got run over last year because he was checking his phone.  How many phone related accidents do we need to hear about? Be aware of your surroundings.

One of my work colleagues told me of his New Year’s resolution last year, which I thought was brilliant.  He resolved to never pretend to not “see” somebody – to always acknowledge.  He thought it was really empowering  and I could see why – even when someone has pretended not to see you, you still go up and say “hi!”.  This most basic acknowledgement is such a small, yet significant thing.

Life is happening all around these people who are addicted to their phones, or tablets – using them to block out the world, or to avoid a social situation in which they are not comfortable. But really – it’s not that hard.  Someone isn’t going to bite your head off for smiling at you as you pass them in the street, or waiting in line at the shops.  Even if you are terribly shy – just try it.

I do wonder if there is a serious mobile phone addiction – a couple of days ago I saw a young couple walking out the door of a local recreational pool, both with phones in hands in case anyone should ring them – ready to answer at a moment’s notice.  Are they really that important? Are the callers? What about each other? Is this not a statement that whoever might ring them is more important than the person they are currently with, in person?

I’m sure I have some sympathisers – people who hate it when they go out to the pub or for coffee with a friend, and the friend puts the phone down on the table, right in front of them, face up, in case they receive a Facebook notification, an email or a call.  When I am with someone, I am with them. Fully. I think that anything less is rude, and a little saddening – judgement call, I know.  I really am attempting to understand rather than judge, but I realise I am failing in understanding – unless it truly is an addiction.  What do you think? Are people addicted to their phones? If so, isn’t there something we should do about it?

Lives are being wasted away.  If you are a person who always has their phone on, may I suggest you turn it off for a day, then two, then a week.  See if you have truly missed anything.  Don’t check Facebook for a day, then two, then a week, and again – did you really miss anything?  Be with the person you are with.  Acknowledge others around you.  Take that damned phone off the table and look the person in the eye.  Be there. Awake. Aware.

Going lightly through life…

As I was out walking the other day, the saying” Living well is the best revenge” popped into my mind.  After a moment’s thought, an additional part to the saying came to mind – “yet if you are focused on revenge, you are not living well”.

At this time of year, when peace on earth and goodwill towards men is often heard, I thought that the addition was rather apt.  For the first part of the saying, it almost deals with the issue, but yet does not allow for forgiveness.  We are still holding a grudge towards someone for what they have done to us.

It reminded me of a story that I recently read, where a group of young monks were given a sack and a bunch of potatoes.  The Master told them that for every grudge, for every thing they could not let go, they had to put a potato in the sack and carry it with them – a physical reminder of the thoughts that they carry around in their heads, which can be outwardly reflected in our behaviour and even our bodies.

After a while, the young monks decided that it was much easier to forgive and let go than to keep carrying around this heavy load the whole time. So, one by one, the potatoes were taken out as they moved on, letting go.  Yet, even as they emptied their sacks, they realised that the sacks could be refilled, and quite easily as well.  So they discarded their sacks – seeing that the sack was as important as the potato. The potatoes were the thoughts, the sack was their very self.  If they held onto their sense of self as lightly as they did their thoughts, seeing that there is no duality and that all things are connected, then there would be no sack, no potatoes, and no burden to carry through life.

I have applied that story to all the old and new grudges that i have been carrying in my life – why would I want to carry them in the first place? Letting go, leaving it all behind and holding very lightly to opinions and the sense of a separate self seems to be the way forward.  It’s not easy, however. Forgiving someone means letting go of any sense of righteousness.  It means letting go of the idea that someone is wrong.  It means simply living in the moment and enjoying it for every second that it exists.  The saying goes “forgive and forget”.  Now, forgetting is much easier than forgiving. I think simply forgiving is enough – forgetting means that it may happen again.  Forgiving implies understanding and not judgement.

So, now is the time to live well, letting go of any ideas of revenge, of grudges.  Life is far, far too short to carry around all that we do not need.  Go lightly through life.  And blessings of the season to you.

The Self, and No Self

Who am I?

Philosophers, religions, spiritualities and people all over the world have asked themselves this question. Lately, I too have been asking myself this – and looking into the meaning of the self, to see if there truly is a Self there to begin with.

The Materialists would say that there is no self at all – that there is no consciousness, that we are simply matter and energy and the result of material interactions.  Descartes stated “I think therefore I am”, to which the Materialists refuted Descartes dualism of a separate mind and body, ridiculing it as “ghost in the machine”.  Zen and Buddhism talks about a True Self that can only be realised by dropping all ideas of the self and achieving a pure state of being in the moment, a state of total selflessness in every sense of the word.

Nietzche stated that “We have never sought ourselves, how could it happen that we should ever find ourselves?”  Like the Materialists, he believed that we are a result of our experiences and actions, but that there still was a Self, a consciousness.  In order to be complete, Nietzche said that we must learn acceptance – to accept everything we have ever done.  I find this fascinating, because how many times have we done things our lives, stating that we were out of our minds, or did something “that was not me at all” – stepping outside of the core idea of what we are.  This acceptance, instead of avoidance, is key to the deeper understanding of the self, in my opinion.  Acceptance doesn’t mean liking everything that we may have done in the past, nor does it define us in the present moment, but what it does allow is a total non-judgemental overview of the self, and in doing so, a deep awareness that we might not achieve by avoidance of the subject.

Before Nietzche, Kierkegaard put forward the notion of choosing to be self-aware.  We are homo sapiens, after all – in fact, I believe the proper term for our species is homo sapiens sapiens – the beings that are aware that they are aware.  Kierkegaard stated that when we choose to be self-aware, we are both aware of our self and, at the same time, aware that we are aware of our self.  Observing the observer who is observing.  Yet, we choose not to observe, because we often don’t like what we see, or experience, either in the past, present or future.

This is all fascinating. And also requires some very deep thinking.  I’m currently exploring the theory of No Self from Zen Buddhism, which is a paradigm of course, as is much in Zen.  The No Self is also the True Self.  It states that our real self is in existence, always, and always has been.  It is pure, and shining free – we only distract ourselves from it to such an extent that we never see it.  Zen states that we are already complete, already whole, already perfect.

This is pretty simple to understand, and it makes sense.  The difficulties, the suffering in our lives detract us away from spending time in the pure moment, in which the True Self resides.  We suffer because we want things to be different, because we desire things, people, etc – and are not happy with the present moment as it is. If we are happy and accepting of the present moment as it is, without judgement of good or bad, or any attachment to it at all (see previous blog post on understanding, not judgement) then we can rediscover this True Self.  By letting go of all notions of the Self, we return to the core, essentially.

In Zen Buddhism, the term mu can mean a multitude of things – it essentially, and paradoxically, means “nothing”.  It can be termed as “no self”, “no ego”, “no holiness” and “impermanence”.  It is the transcending of all things, the enlightenment experience, the complete and utter letting go of affirmations and negations.  It is an answer to some Zen koans (questions asked to break apart the mind and let in a new way of understanding).  Zen master Keido Fukishima, like Kierkegaard, promotes the self-inquiry into our own being and mind, to be aware that we are being aware.  In Zen, this has the goalless goal of letting go – once we have found our mind, we lose it (not in an insane way, I might add) and in the losing, in the understanding of the impermanence of all things, including the mind and the self, we rediscover the True Self.  Keido Fukushima says, “Zen teaches us how to live by inquiring into and clarifying ourselves. This self-questioning is well suited to our contemporary ways of thinking. Rather than seeking salvation through an “other” or through grace, we achieve it on our own.”

Fukushima delves further into this idea, stating “The experience of mu may at first glance seem purely negative or passive,” he says, “but it is not so at all. Being mu, or empty of self, allows one to actively take in whatever comes. Our world today and all in it are separated into dualistic distinctions of good and evil, birth and death, gain and loss, self and other, and so on. By being mu, not only does one’s self-centeredness disappear, the conflicts that arise with others dissolve as well. Here is a simple example: When we look at a mountain, we tend to observe it as an object. But if we are mu, we no longer see the mountain as an object; we identify with it; we are the mountain itself. This transcendence of duality may sound like some psychic ability or spiritual power someone possesses. But that is not true. Rather, it is simply and naturally a case of being free, creative, and fresh. We become human beings full of boundless love and compassion.”

This rejects the dualists’, such as Descartes, theories and instead breaks down all barriers, which is both liberating and frightening at the same time.  There is no Us and Them, no Self and the Other – if we truly let go of all attachment we become one with everything.  Are we willing to do that, or do are we too attached to our sense of self to experience that? Can we truly dissolve into everything?

It comes in small flashes, in glimpses, for me so far.  The world, wrapped up in an apple, in a drop of rain, in the flight of a hawk.  Barriers have dropped, ego and self has fallen away, and we see the multitude of the universe (another paradox!).

This is passing through the Gateless Gate – I’ve also heard it called the groundless ground.  In realising the impermanence of everything, including the Self, we have a platform from which to jump off and into real living, where every moment counts and is never the same.  The Self changes from moment to moment.

This is hard, for we have spent our whole lives creating this sense of self, this timeless sense of self that we think defines us.  After seeing Taylor Swift’s new video, Trouble, in which she states “…I don’t know if you know who you are, until you lose who you are” really hit home.  I don’t think she meant this in a Zen sense, as she seems pretty attached to her past experiences (and boyfriends) but the statement really hit home.  She talks about losing her balance.  I really identified with this statement, having recently lost my balance in these last few months.  But what did I lose my balance from? Is the concept of balance just another distraction? I’m still working on it.

Starting with acceptance, and then moving on, letting go, without attachment, is crucial.  Maybe then the True Self will shine again, for longer and longer moments, ever shifting, ever changing, always truthful.

However, as Freud said, “It’s just a theory.”

Excerpt from new book, Zen Druidry

We are not “away with the faeries” in meditation – we are truly and more aware of what is going on around us than most people at that moment.  We are also aware of our own bodies – any tightness, any pains, where we are relaxed and where we are tense. We can adjust our bodies, again without attachment, releasing tension and the moving on to full awareness of everything. 

 

This first phase of meditation is exceedingly important.  Once we have attained a modicum of discipline, we can then open ourselves up to what is going on around us without instantly jumping into thoughts about everything we see, hear or smell.  We have already modified our behavioural patterns into something much simpler, much more integrated with the world around us. 

 

The next phase is to allow the thoughts that arise, releasing the focus on our breath and our environment.  We do not become absorbed in these thoughts, however.  We let them bubble up, notice them, and then without paying any more attention to them let them go.  This is the key – like an angry child with a temper tantrum, the more attention we give to our thoughts, the louder they will become, until they have completely absorbed us into their own little world.  We must realise that their little world doesn’t even exist – we must learn to stop living inside our heads.

 

Some of the thoughts that arise might be full of emotion, leading us to joyous recollections or into the pits of despair.  Again, we must simply see the thoughts that arise in these first stages of meditation, and later find the space to deal with them should they need to be dealt with.  The idea of mindfulness is not to push aside the feelings, not to suppress them in any way. You truly have to feel them – and with such feelings like rage, it can be difficult. But it is possible to feel these emotions without acting upon them. It’s why I haven’t murdered anyone – and I hope I never will! Because we live in honorable relationship to the world, we know that to act on certain feelings is morally unethical. We can still feel them, acknowledge them – hell, we’re only monkeys with car keys after all. We honor the feelings of our own human nature, dance with them, surrender into their flow for a time, but never ever submit, for to do could quite possibly mean our death, or the death and harm of others.

Mindtraps

Every day we are caught in mind-traps – little prisons of our own making.  We are constantly hijaked by our thoughts and feelings, our attachments to them and our egos, that we spin endlessly in circles until we fall down upon our butts.  The key to breaking free of these mind traps is through observation.

When we meditate in the Zen style, or do zazen as it is called, we become aware of our bodies and our thoughts.  We do not “zone out”, we are not “away with the faeries” or pondering the mysteries of life – in zazen we focus on pure experience.  This focus helps us in our lives when we are not in zazen. We are aware of how our bodies are feeling – whether our breath is shallow or deep, that twinge in our back, whether our facial muscles are tense or relaxed.  We also turn that awareness to our surroundings, listening to the birdsong outside, or the traffic, feeling the breeze or the sunlight upon our shoulders.  We are aware as much as is humanly possible of everything that is around us and within us.  It is no easy task.

Our thoughts are constantly seeking to distract us from the comfortable reality that we have created. Even though this reality may be a false reality, still it is more comfortable than sitting, thinking about our headache or the plain “boredom” of doing zazen.  We daydream, we think through all our life’s problems, we spin off in attempts to do anything but simply be in the moment, because we feel that we deserve otherwise. Remember that old saying, “there is no time like the present”?  Similarly, there is no experience other than this present moment – mayhap the best thing you could be doing is simply experiencing it right now.

We like to think. There is nothing wrong with thinking – we can solve problems, work out situations with a little forethought. We plan – and again, there is nothing wrong with having life plans. It is our attachment to these plans that sets us off in another mindtrap – where if we don’t achieve them our life can feel in ruins.

In zazen, we learn to observe.  We sit, and we observe our bodies’ attempts to defy our intention of just sitting still and being in the moment. Why do our bodies do this? Because they reflect our thoughts – our thoughts don’t want to sit still – they want to run riot.  In zazen, it is not so much controlling our thoughts, pushing them away or yelling at them to be quiet like unruly children – we observe the thoughts and gradually, through observing them, they become quieter.  A new thought is a wonderful, shiny thing that we want to explore – whether it is a “good” thought or a “bad” thought.  When we have observed that thought 100 times, it becomes a lot less interesting.  This is what zazen is about.

If we think about what happened to us that upset us during the day, we can easily become lost in our emotional attachment to it.  If we simply observe the thought – “Oh, I’m having a thought about this again” and then return our attention to simply sitting and being in the moment, then we are on the path to freedom from these mindtraps.  Again, it is not easy – we may have to do this 10, 100 or 1,000 times before the thoughts settle down and we tire of them.  With persistence, they will.

We must be careful, however, to simply observe, without “being” the observer.  If we become the observer, then we have created a separate entity that does not exist. If we are simply observing, then we are the pure moment. The past does not exist, neither does the future. It is only this moment, that is constantly changing, that exists.  If thoughts about the past occur, you can observe them, but then ask yourself – “where is the past right now?” It does not exist. When we worry about the future, we can ask ourself “where is the future right now?”. It does not exist. Only this present, everchanging moment exists.

I love to daydream – but not when I am in meditation.  I set aside a time in the day to daydream, to come up with wonderful stories that may see the light of day in future novels or short stories.  There is nothing wrong with imagination – it is a gift that should be used every day. We must learn, however, not to become lost in it, this imaginary world, as it is so much better than our reality can seem.  Living in a pure moment does not leave us unthinking, mindless zombies.  We are totally and completely present, truly living life to the fullest.  That is the greatest gift.

It is time to break free of your mindtraps – look at what thoughts keep occurring, what keeps rising to the surface when you are being silent and still.  By observing them you will notice them, notice the patterns that are created, the emotions and physical pain that may be attached to these thoughts and how they so easily control your life.  Once we see the pattern, we can weave our way out into a new pattern, into a new cycle.  Through zazen, we can take this into our everyday lives, and so, when someone upsets us, or hurts us, or brings us joy – we can see the pattern that is created and either choose to remain within it, or weave a new pattern upon the web of life.  We can either live in this very moment, or stay within our mindtraps. The choice is ours.