Way back when I first started meditating when I was 17, it was candle gazing (trataka) that I was drawn to. For a long time, that was how I practiced, eyes wide open, focusing on the flickering flame, bringing deliberate attention back to what was in front of me whenever thoughts or distractions drew me away. At some point, I learned to meditate with eyes closed. Whichever way we choose to go about things, it is always wise to exercise some practical discernment and ask ourselves, why, what's the intention of my practice, how will it serve the way in which I engage with the world?
What's the rush?
"Ahsta, ahsta!" Punjabi for "slowly, slowly!". Words my parents used to, and still, say to me. When I drop something because I've not quite quelled the habit of needless haste. When I forget there's a cup of tea by my feet as I practically sprint to attention and leap out of the moment to head and do whatever else. When I bump into something and hit my elbow, head, knee, because my wavering mind is half elsewhere. “What's the rush?" They'll ask. What indeed.
Ways of seeing
There are two ways of seeing: through a critical, judgemental lens that pours a dispiriting and mobilising grey wash over what is really in front of you; or with an open mind that embraces the unknown, and a willingness to drop the biases, fears and preconceptions in favour of connecting with what's true. The latter may well mean coming up close with the reality of your flawed thinking, stumbling blocks, doubts and the very preconceptions that limit you. But it's far more honest, because in the exposure lies the illumination, from which comes the capacity to see the binds that restrict your head and heart. In clear sight lies potential for transformation, for a shift in perspective, a change of heart. See the grey without letting it dull your view.
Shut up and sit down: The simple practice of meditation
Meditation is such a simple practice - in purpose, theory and principle, if not as a felt experience of our mental landscape - that I sometimes wonder, when I come to sit down or lead a class, about why we get so hung up about it. I say we, I mean me, in terms of wondering whether I'm aiding the drift towards peace as opposed to the slipside towards more inner noise.
Contemplative movement: What does it mean to be strong?
Are you becoming the person you want to be?
How to cultivate and nurture the practice of patience
Patience can be a trickster of a thing. We call it a lofty virtue as though it's something we can only ever aspire to. We know that it's something worth cultivating and yet we give it less attention or time than the things we and society convinces us we have to be doing all the time.
Conditioned as most of are to think our worth lies in all that we do, measuring that worth in the context of capitalism, ableism and consumerism, we put patience and pausing on the back-burner, telling ourselves we'll stop and give ourselves a break when things slow down.
The enriching nature of mind weeds
Meditation is tough. Sitting patiently with our selves, with our messy minds, is not an easy task. That's why we do it. Not for self-flagellation or ego-pumping determination. But to cultivate acceptance, discipline and calm.
The discomfort, the mess, the challenge, is part of the process. Intellectually that makes sense. Feeling it though, when you're sat there doing battle with your internal narrator (i.e. your little, vulnerable, weak and shouty self), it's enough to make you give up. Don't. Persist. This is where the lessons lie.
Put your mind in the muscle: A call to attention
There’s a phrase that’s used in the fitness world that’s meant to help you focus: “put your mind in the muscle”. The theory is that by channelling your mental energy as well as your physical grunt, your efforts become more concerted, and you get results.
It’s a principle and a practice that I find makes the strain both worthwhile and satisfying. Not only does it keep my mind “in the game”, it helps me tune out all of the peripheral noise that would otherwise be a distracting hindrance to the reason I am in the gym in the first place – which is to develop strength, stability, balance and stamina.