Sunday, May 25, 2008

Inside and Outside

Today, in the middle of conversation with some very dear friends, I was struck with an odd perspective. It was as if I stepped back from the verbal volleyball in which I had previously been engrossed and saw, fleetingly, exactly what they looked like, exactly how strange and special it was that I should know them at all.

It was almost as if I flipped from being inside the experience, wholly engaged in a seamless consciousness of participation, to being outside, looking in with newness and wonder. And from the outside, my friends, I saw something extremely inspiring, yet heartrending and beautiful, which struck me as exceedingly obvious, so obvious that we do not normally notice.

In your faces I saw a fragile composition of elements, a collection of quirks, stories, and laughter, layer upon layer of time and tedium, trustingly condensed into your mirage of self. And I was raptured because I cherish you, your faces bursting with youth, and I readily saw that the very notion of coherence was a chance designation, a momentary name given to a system in flux - a snowflake, a diamond, a seed, a star. What more can I say about my own self bearing witness to this? Stars align to form constellations, also transient, also empty.

Meditation and contemplation, by the virtue of silence, sharpen the ability to observe from outside, to see from another perspective, to engage with a beginner's mind. It feels to me, in these fleeting moments of altered perception, like I have reached a much more intimate appreciation of emptiness, of interdependent phenomenon, or suchness; what I simply praise as divinity, because its existence is mysterious and sacred. Maybe the lesson would go something like this:

Far out along the
edges, Mind beyond
mind, discover the center.

Friday, May 23, 2008

polyphasic sleeping?

As soon as I read about this, I felt like something deep inside my head started whirring and chirping like a Willy Wonka candy machine. Bells and whistles, starlings and butterflies, the full moon rising in my belly, that kind of thing.

The very basic run-down. Some people have successfully been able to change their sleeping patterns such that they sleep 2-3 hours a day. Instead of one long sleep cycle (monophasic), the day and night is broken down into smaller intervals punctuated by periodic naps (usually every 4 hours).

As nice as it might sound to gain 4-5 hours a day, there are naturally some complicated trade-offs. The blog link contains a thorough examination of some of the benefits and complications.

Sleep patterns, energy cycles, dreaming, circadian changes in awareness - all of these are intimately linked to my explorations of consciousness through meditation. I have a strong hunch that many people who attempt polyphasic sleep and fail are unaware of the degree to which one-pointedness and equanimity affect our wake/rest cycles. At any rate, I relish the chance for this adventure but must wait for the right opportunity.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Neural Buddhists

David Brooks dips his finger into the percolating god-or-not debate, but refuses to taste.

Actually I find his portrayal of neural buddhists rather satisfying, it even returns a touch of dignity (dare I say, purpose?) to the aimless bazaar of scientific secular materialism. No point arguing about the existence of God, experience something sacred and those middling questions lose all interest. That's how I know when I've met someone truly mystic, we're too absorbed in relishing the wonders of human life to bother with fumbling pedantry.

The article did leave me wondering one thing. If we are hardwired, biologically and psychologically, to have experiences of the sacred, transcendent experiences, experiences of love and wholeness, what exactly is the point?

After a giddy little god-trip I inevitably come down, unwind, and return to my normal mundane and limited daily perceptions. Why do I strive to experience oneness? What's the point?

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

declaration of intent

One year from now, if I have not somehow accidentally stumbled upon the kundalini, I will make haste to a secluded spot in the forest in order to realize this little dharma-vow of a shakti-infused, spirit-guided life of egoless power.

I envisage something up to 90 days, minimal impact & distractions - a small backpackers tent, a bit of food, a journal. I will find somewhere safe and secluded, establish a sharp mind, and then begin the operation. There are many routes of breath and energy that I can explore, but with singular intent I will eagerly pray for the full realization of my light-filled nature.

Not the complete awakening, because I hope there will be many more revelations to come, but a step in the right direction.

Gate gate, bodhi svaha.

Saturday, May 3, 2008

prayer - tuning into divinity

"Everything which is not known remains dark. Mystery is our relation to what we cannot see."

Prayer came into my life as an extension of energetic attention. Through meditation I am learning to concentrate my mind upon a single point with great focus. Over time I began to realize that I could use that focus in concert with imagination, memory, and intuition to generate specific mental and emotional states. In my experience there are specific gestalts of sensory impression that are very effective at arousing precise varieties of mental energy, especially if those sensory impressions possess potent personal or emotional meaning. Visual images, sounds, shapes, smells, sensations of touch heat or pain along the skin, all can be used to shape and direct the energy of one's own mind for a specific purpose or intention.

An example: relaxation or cleansing can be achieved with sensations of water, the element associated with healing, purification, intuition, and dreaming. Imagine the coolness of water splashing on your head, slowly soaking your hair and scalp, traveling down shoulders and back, stomach, legs, thighs. This water can flow over your body or through it, like a river rushing through a sieve. Or you can imagine lying flat on a raft, moving gently with the rocking motions of the water. In either case, the essential aspect is to generate an internal experience through creative visualization and somatic memory. Key elements could be the sensation of rocking, the flowing motion of the water, coolness or wetness, gentle sounds of splashing, flashes of blue and turquoise, or anything that speaks to your own personal interpretation, memory, or experience. There are meditations specifically devoted to sensory experience that can increase our awareness and sensitivity to body sensation. These are very useful to bridge the gap between mind and body so that, with practice, we can recall (or imagine) any sensation at will.

In the case of prayer, the evocation of images is a bit more abstract. Instead of the stark cleanliness of physical sensations, words like compassion, forgiveness, or blessing, for example, do not have simple cognitive or physical experiences that can be recalled. However, when we find that space of openness, yearning, surrender, (combined with a smidgen of heartache) that I have come to know as prayer, it does have a certain signature of sensation that can be called upon, at will, when the need arises for spiritual renewal.

I accidentally stumbled upon that prayer space when I was reading and rereading the prayer of St. Francis of Assisi. As I read I began to find a special resonance within every word. It was as if I could use the template of the prayer, that is, the succession of words and syllables, to weave together a series of emotional and mental states. I read it over and over again, very slowly, tasting the fullness of each word, feeling the yearning and intention behind each phrase, charging myself with the power of those words, offering that scintillating ball of energy back up as a promise, a gift, and a recognition.

It was part self-hypnosis, part psycho-conditioning, that much was clear to me. But the whole event was also an exercise in egolessness (transcending selfishness, planting seeds for compassion, love, and wisdom) and so I felt it brought me closer to some place of inner wisdom and grace, a place which might be a thread or life-line to the divinity in me. Since then I have have discovered other uses of prayer (uses for it and uses it has for me), but I have said enough for the moment.

May you all discover your own thread to divinity, be charged with the yearning and intention to dissolve all ego-motives, and awaken purest compassion in your life.