108days

Day 17

I had a really restless sitting yesterday. I kept shuffling around on the cushion trying to find a comfortable seat. I never found it. The one thought I remember having was "Nobody's looking... ". When I sit in the temple, I'm much less likely to shift around or try to move... perhaps because I don't want to call attention to myself. I try to be still, like a good zen soldier. But sometimes at home the sitting gets a lazy quality to it. But nobody's looking, I tell myself. You can be gentle with yourself. Isn't it a little crazy to sit still when you're so uncomfortable? Isn't that a good time for some metta (lovingkindness) practice?

Yesterday was such a nice day I turned the heat off. Lingering in bed this morning avoiding the chill of the apartment, I read part of this Ezra Bayda article that deals with comfort (again from the Shambhala Sun archives). And it answers at least some of my questions:

What is the practice here? First, we have to see the ways in which we constantly seek comfort. Then we look at our mental process, beginning with noticing our most basic beliefs. For example, if we're sitting in meditation and feel agitated, we ask, "What is my most believed thought right now?" The answer might be, "Life should be comfortable." Or, "Life should be free from pain." Or, "I can't be happy if I'm in discomfort." We certainly believe that these thoughts are true; yet many people have experienced that happiness does not depend on being free of discomfort. In fact, it's our belief that we have to avoid discomfort that is one of our deepest sources of unhappiness. But to see through the beliefs that underpin our habitual attitudes and behaviors, we first have to know what they are. We need to label our thoughts with precision and clarity to see through the addictive quality.

Once we see these beliefs clearly, what is the experiential component? It's staying with the restlessness, the anxious quiver, the hole of discomfort out of which our addictions spring. Residing in the present moment when it's uncomfortable isn't necessarily easy, since we have a natural aversion to discomfort. This is one reason why having a daily meditation practice is helpful, because we learn what it means to stay with the experience of the body even when this experience doesn't please us. However, to really reside in physical discomfort, it's helpful to first clearly see our believed thoughts.

There appears to be a thin line between lovingkindness and self-indulgence... at least for me. We can think we are taking care of ourselves (because that's a nicer thought to be with) and fool ourselves into avoiding what's really going on... we have an aversion to discomfort. If we never find ourselves in an uncomfortable place, we never have to deal with it.

Going to sit in the cold.

Day 6

Awakening in the Body

Continuing yesterday's discussion on how to hold the body during practice, let's consider today another article from the Shambhala Sun archives... this one by Phillip Moffit called "Awakening in the Body." It begins:

Many meditation students view body awareness as just a starting point for their practice. They tend to skip over it in order to focus on their mind states and emotions, believing that’s where they will experience the deepest insights. But the truth is, your body is the ideal mirror for discovering the Buddha’s great truths of suffering (dukkha), change (anicca), and “not self” (anatta).

The full text can be found here. Come back and let us know what you think.

Day 4

This morning I read an article on meditation practice from the Shambhala Sun archives. In it, Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche compares the beginner's mind to hard, dry ground:

In meditation, we begin to learn about ourselves as basic human beings, and when we learn about ourselves, we learn how to change. Our mind is like hard ground that has not seen water for a long time. That ground is not capable of giving nourishment to anything. Whatever is planted in it dies. Nothing grows. As meditation practitioners, we begin to till our mind so that we can grow something, the mind of enlightenment. We’re trying to change.

So we start to till this hard, thirsty ground. If our mind is like a wide open field on a farm that must be tilled and planted and harvested, we must train like the farmer. The farmer has a routine that must be approached with diligence and each step must be accomplished in its turn at its time. If the farmer decided not to plant, there would be no harvest.

Food for thought.