You know, from time to time I need to get down

Tonight I found myself spontaneously meditating, with Robyn's Body Talk playing in the background no less. Just goes to show how irrelevant specific formations of internal peace practice can be. Most Buddhists monks would probably say that music (especially Swedish electronica/dance ;) is an interference to meditation since it overrides the natural vibrations of the mind. I was actually enjoying it immensely, and not because I was having an internal dance party during my sit. My breath, mind, and body-energy were very chillaxed (=chill + relaxed).

Anyway, to the point. I was thinking how I've continued to struggle with a dualistic conception of my meditation practice. Either I need to do it (and do it a LOT) because it's the only thing bringing more sanity, balance, and light into my life and my world OR I don't need to do it because everything is already OK the way it is, or rather I have already learned to be OK with everything the way it is and mediation has done its job.

Tonight it occurred to me that maybe part of my hang up results from a simplistic, goal-oriented approach to meditation. Rather I should say a singular goal oriented approach, i.e. a specific, one-time, all-encompassing acquisition of wisdom. All of this depends largely on the assumption of an uninterrupted, singular personality in my life, a constant "ego." Now this is something very suspect. This "I" that engages the world and (seemingly) controls my responses is only a very tiny shard of a multi-faceted being, that much I am clear on now.

So maybe it's possible to achieve specific revelations of wisdom within specific chapters of my life. Maybe the meditation mandate (or whatever mandate) can be contracted, fulfilled, and then renewed again later under new circumstances. I guess it raises the question - how many lives can I live in a single lifetime, or maybe, how many times will be I be transformed, renewed, and re-charged with new obstacles/lessons/challenges?

I guess the truly non-dual perspective would see individual beads on a string and simultaneously know the necklace as well. Yes yes.

I would like to give myself permission to sit spontaneously more often.

With all the body-listening, nadi-filling, breath-grounding, lotus-opening, divine-talking goodness that so often comes to grace my sense field. Yes.

Gratefully,
Always,
A

The Practice of No-Practice

For a long time, my practice has been a manifestation of discipline. Only when I was balanced, strong, patient, kind -- all of which was enhanced by a regular meditation practice -- only then did I imagine I was following the right path. When my heart is attuned and my mind spacious, I carry a stronger sense of connectedness, I can be more mindful of my true nature.

What a terrible judgement that was! How unhappy I became when I couldn't be balanced, when I wasn't strong, when I acted impatiently or selfishly. As I understood it, the path of spiritual discipline is like taming an unruly child and only when the child was behaving could I be proud of my work.

These past two years I have moved out of that comfort zone as my graduate (and married) life demands more of my time and energy. I can no longer maintain the constant discipline required to keep my child extra well-behaved. Often I feel less connected, less grounded. I am trying to create a more constant, subliminal sense of spiritual connectedness as I hustle through the city.

Do not misunderstand me. I do not totally enjoy or condone this lifestyle, but I am finding lessons nonetheless. Discipline has advantages to be sure, but without it I am learning not to judge my daily experiences. Rather I'm intimately sensing the contours of my own spiritual path, every moment of every day, good, bad, everywhere in between.

When I surrendered myself to this work (the mystic life, marriage, graduate school, simply living) it came from a deeply spiritual place. Now it feels like everything I encounter reveals the divine through me, and every action is worthy of dedicating back to that source. More and more my own understanding seems like an insufficient whisper, a mere distraction from the ever-present stream of revelations.

I act and interact from a fundamental impulse, like water falling downhill, or fire consuming a tree. It doesn't mater whether I am the water, the fire, or the tree. When I live according to this nature, there is great peace.