SETTLING INTO LIFE’S GROOVE
There is an odd juxtaposition between settling and grooving. The seemingly disparate energies of connecting to the earth and letting go into the flow can be in opposition when we are not synchronized, when we cling to one over the other. On the other hand, they might combine into an elegant balance when we are able to relax and ground and let go. Settling in and letting go into the groove allows us to re-synchronize body, spirit and mind. Our parts are gathered into a whole that flows through life.
I think we understand that meditation practice is predicated on settling down into the present moment. But the present moment is already gone once we even have the thought of settling. Everything is in motion. When we appear to be still, we are still on a moving planet. Within us our blood is flowing, our lungs are breathing, our endocrine system is always changing the way we feel. And, our mind is thinking. Despite whatever we believe about meditation, we are always thinking. A still mind is just another thought. When the mind is still, as soon as it notices stillness, it is thinking. No matter how still we sit in meditation, there are atoms moving at tremendous speed within all of that. So, it may be effective to think of settling down into meditation as settling into the flow of life.
There is an analogy in science of a kid bouncing a ball on a moving train. The ball appears to be bouncing directly up and down from the perspective of those, no doubt, becoming progressively irritated inside the train. But to anyone watching from the fields as the train goes by, the ball is moving rapidly with each bounce. Now is a bit like that, always moving even as it appears to stand in place.
I had a friend who’s teacher told him “meditation is happening now.” The teacher paused. Then he said, “I’m sorry, I meant now.” He looked directly at my friend and again said, “Now”.
And again, “now”. And again, faster and louder “NOW!” The teacher continued at varying intervals for the next few minutes until my friend gave up second guessing and came into sync with his teacher’s undivinable rhythm. He was forced to remain awake and listening. He couldn’t figure it out, but he could experience its flow. Now is just a point on the moving matrix of consciousness. And any point, when closely examined, does not exist. 2 is a point between 1 and 3. 1.5 is a point between 1 and 2. And 1.25 is a point between 1 and 1.5. And so on until we slice so finely we reveal the nothing that lies below everything. Points are designations that mean different things at different times. We are now in spring. It is now the afternoon. I am now 66. In 4 days I will be 67. At what point will that happen? Midnight of the 17th? With all respect to Eckhart Tolle, the power of now may be knowing that now doesn’t exist. At least not in the solid independent way that we assume.
From a Buddhist point of view, turning theoretical points in life into solid immutable truths is a fallacy that creates great suffering. Meditation came about largely as a way of settling us into the profusion of information in life in order to see clearly and become able to navigate that life. A sailor heads toward a point on their map, but doesn’t expect to see an arrow there drawn by Susan Kare 😉 when they get there. When we reach the point, there is no exact point, and yet there seems to be another point to navigate toward. When we say the journey is the goal, we are saying the goal is an idea. But the journey is actually happening.
Throughout history, meditation instruction has used the analogy of a river to express the flow of our consciousness. Our river of consciousness cooresponds to the stata of brain waves delineated by neuroscience. From rapid-fire anxiety states, to the slow pulse of meditative states, into the depth of the dark stillness of dreamless sleep, our mind is always moving. But, even the depth of the ocean is only temporary, giving way to the flow of another river. The idea of the analogy is to have better awareness of our experience and to accept its transitory nature. The idea isn’t to make anything solid, but to experience the flow so that we learn to navigate life.
The most rapid measurable mental states, called Gamma states, are likened to a waterfall. From the point of view of maintaining awareness, we often experience this as chaos or the confusion which comes from a profusion of thoughts. While this indicator of manic inflation is a red flag in some cases, it is common to all of us sometime. If we understand this, we can avoid being thrown off balance and submerged by the darkness beneath the turmoil. But, if we are resolved to find balance and maintain wakefulness, we are able to stay the course and connect to the flow of our breathing, which is a stabilizing agent. Breathing happens in the body, and the body acts as ballast for us to navigate turmoil and regain balance. Synchronization is very hard in a waterfall. But, if we see it through enough times, we will know that all times ultimately give way to the next time and we can have faith that if we don]t overreact, we will regain balance.
When we slow down enough to maintain awareness, we enter the hyper alert Beta state of white water rapids. This state requires a certain rigor of awareness. We often go off course when we are swept away in exhilaration of mind. Then we run the risk of having our awareness submerged. Joy is wonderful. But joy can be a red flag for maintaining balance. The work at this stage is to let go into the flow of movement and to try our best not to hold on to anything. Just keep moving through. In this stage meditation is most clearly a body practice. The way to fully experience the rapid fire of an excited mind is through the resonance of the body. We don’t have to ground ourselves completely. We don’t have to try and coral the mind. We endeavor to let the breathing synchronize mind and body, let go of the scenery, and just flow. Returning, as we can to the breath. This is challenging, but we should remember that there is no problem here. It’s just fast. We’re not having a bad meditation just because our mind is feisty. We’re also not having an amazing meditation as we navigate the white water. It just is. And that, like all else, will change.
As we keep returning to the breath the process becomes easier. We are entering a swiftly moving stream of the Alpha state. The breath becomes like an oar keeping us on track. The point here is that life is moving along and we don’t have to do anything, but be awake and maintain our consciousness. Images of life appear on either shore. But if we get fixated on them, we become stuck amongst the reeds and weeds in the shallows. All the while, the river is continuing on behind us as it always does and always will. The river is the continuity of our consciousness which has always been there. We can be part of it when we remember to return to the flow.
Each time we come back, the river widens and deepens. Which is to say, that each time we come back our mental waves slow until our mind becomes the deeply rolling river of the theta level meditation or light sleep state. In this stage we don’t have to paddle, steer, or even return. Our aware consciousness has enough momentum to just flow. Thoughts are more like clouds in the sky above us, that appear and change and drift, configuring and reconfiguring in their spatial dance. Occasionally, we may want to stop the process and decide if a particular cloud is a giraffe, a snake or a dragon. But, we’ve been here before, and we know fixation will lead to imbalance, possibly turbulence and lack of awareness. Awareness is our protection. It is our purpose. Consciousness is always there, before us, through us and after. But instances of awareness are the golden moments of an awake connection to our consciousness. These are the moments that, although ordinary and fleeting, connect us to the magic of life. Each time we are present in our meditation and our life, we give sight to the universe.
In the deepest theta state is as if our rolling river had widened and widened still, until it emptied into a large mountain lake. That lake is serene and peaceful. At alpine altitude, it is free of algae and flora, and so reflects a turquoise clarity. In this image, we are seated in the middle of the lake on a multi-colored lotus, which represents our enlightened natural state. The sun and clouds above are reflected on the surface of the lake, as though the sky had melted around us. We are fully steeled, seated and connected to the flow of stillness.
The deepest states of our available consciousness are called Delta and they relate to non-REM sleep, or the very deepest states of retreat level meditation. While it is rare to be conscious of Delta states they are always with us. They rest at the core of things, as though we’ve sunk to the bottom of the lake into absolute silence and dark. That deep sleep we actually pass through each night. That state of unconscious, dark, meditation that a few will experience consciously. Yet, this non-being is always here. It is a dark reminder that we come from the inconceivable and will end in the inconceivable. But it is from this darkness that we are able to open our eyes. And when we do, we are cleansed and life is awakened and alive.
As we go, we have the sight to open and relax into the flow of life. We are able to meet it without contention. As we continue, we grow less reliant on believing the world is for or against us. We change our allegiance from being ‘right’ to simply being. And we start to have respect for life by relaxing into our experience of it. And we develop enough respect for ourselves to trust letting go into the flow, and allow ourselves the gift of conscious awareness in life.
“Stop trying to steer”, a teacher told me. “And learn to dance.”
