by Bill Morgan
GUIDED MEDITATION: OBSERVING THE MALLEABLE SELF
1. Take a few minutes to settle down, quieting the body and breath, arriving more fully here in the present, glad to be here, wanting to be here.
2. Invite the heart qualities of delight, gratitude, warmth, and wonder.
3. Settle back, and notice that experience keeps arising all on its own. The heart keeps beating, the breath keeps moving in and out, and awareness of one thing after another keeps happening: now a sound, now a body sensation, now the breath, now a thought, now another thought.
4. Notice how the thoughts of self—such as “I am sitting here” or “I am warm” or “My hips feel tight”—also arise on their own, frequently, bubbling up in the internal landscape.
5. Imagine that this thought of self—the idea that there is a self doing the meditation, thinking about what’s going on, orchestrating what you are attending to—is just another experience that can be observed.
6. Now a sound, a body sensation, a thought of self, a sound, a thought of self: notice how all of these can be observed.
7. If the attention gets hijacked by analytical thought, settle back, take a few easy breaths, and once again open the field of awareness, first to sounds and body sensations, and then to notice again the arising of the thought of self.
8. In the last few minutes of the meditation, settle back into the holding environment, aware of a few easy breaths before slowly opening the eyes.
The next meditation game is an investigation into the location of the self. This is something we rarely consider. There is awareness of the self much of the time, but we don’t think to identify its location. In Tibetan meditation, looking for the “home” of the self—and not finding it—is considered an important practice; it deepens the intuitive understanding of the composite, constructed, fluid nature of the self.
GUIDED MEDITATION: FIND THE SELF IN THIS PICTURE
1. Take your time and proceed through steps 1 through 4 in the previous meditation.
2. Now move the attention systematically through the body to see where the self might reside.
3. It may seem at first that the self is located in the head, somewhere behind the eyes. Keeping the breath relaxed, allow the attention to move into that area.
4. Carefully attend to your experience. Does the self appear to live there? Does anything seem to be stable and unchanging in this area?
5. Move your attention to the area of the heart. Does the sense of self reside here? What do you notice? What do you feel? Does the sense of self appear to be stable, or does it fluctuate like everything else?
6. Gently and slowly, move your attention through the body. Notice that the sense of self arises, but it does not appear to have a home base anywhere.
7. Maybe the self lives in the mind. Where is the mind exactly? See if you can find a home base for the mind.
8. Notice how thoughts come and go, sensations come and go, the thought of self comes and changes and disappears and reappears again.
9. Look into this carefully. What if this meditation is revealing the way things actually are?
10. Stay with this a bit longer. Is everything constantly shifting and changing, or not?
11. In the last few minutes of the meditation, settle back into the holding environment, aware of a few easy breaths before slowly opening the eyes.
The orientation in these exercises is to see that the sense of a separate self continues to arise, that it keeps coming, like the breath and the heartbeat. Thank goodness for this developmental miracle! Where was the self when you were three months old? It hadn’t developed yet! The self keeps us oriented to time and place, and continues to spontaneously organize new input coming from the world out there and the internal environment. Another side of this also becomes apparent, however: the self is not a solid, enduring thing that resides somewhere. It is a constantly fluctuating series of interacting processes. Gradually we begin to acclimate to this malleable nature of the self, which is more wave than particle, more verb than noun.
QUESTIONS FOR CONSIDERATION
Whenever I try to meditate on self/no-self, I get caught up in thinking about it, which is often more compelling than the meditation itself. Suggestions?
This subject readily hijacks Western meditators, and that is why I have discussed it toward the end of the book. The attention needs to be pretty continuous and precise to see deeply into this matter. However, wanting to see deeply creates striving, which in turn invites tension, which agitates the holding environment and constricts clear seeing of what is going on. All mindful investigations rely on a foundation of a calm level of interest, with self-monitoring to notice when the holding environment is being ruffled. When such agitation is noted, it is most effective to reestablish the sense of ease before proceeding. It takes a while to trust that more insight will arise from this posture than from striving.
Noticing the different manifestations of the self—“I am here,” “I remember this,” “This reminds me of,” “I think I’m getting the hang of this”—is like playing whack-a-mole. Is that the idea?
Developing a playful approach to meditation is definitely helpful. However, discernment is necessary to determine whether this style of play increases tension. I played a lot of pinball as a young man. The games certainly held my interest, but they were highly arousing. What we are going for in meditation games is keen interest without the hyperarousal and the restlessness associated with competition and a win/lose mentality.
Sometimes it seems like the self is not there at all; there is just pure awareness of a sound or sensations of breath. Does that mean I am making progress?
It sounds like there is progress in establishing the holding environment and concentration. These are important forerunners of investigation. In these moments, the sense of self is latent. However, the goal is not to keep the sense of self in hiding, but to understand its wavelike plasticity and mindfully support its smooth operation. That is why, after the mind is quite settled, the next step is to slowly open the field of awareness. Mindful investigation can then observe the shapeshifting movements of various phenomena, including the malleable sense of self.
What am I supposed to do once I see that the self is malleable? It all feels like a game, because as soon as I stop meditating, I’m totally caught up again in my everyday mind, filled with attachments and dislikes.
Meditation on the malleable self is a gradual path, and internalizing this understanding more deeply takes time. After all, we have been strongly identified with the self for a very long time. Each time we practice, a small hole is poked in the understanding of the self as something solid. At some point it starts to appear more porous, translucent, and spacious, and your everyday mind will become more malleable.
18
INTERPERSONAL GAMES
WE ARE COMPLEX CREATURES. Not only are we comfort-seeking and meaning-making beings, we are social beings. Mindfulness practice, in order to grow deeper roots in the West and in the lives of meditators in our culture, needs to address all three of these core aspects of our nature.
The comfort-seeking dimension has been addressed in the cultivation of the internal holding environment. By consciously creating a safe harbor in the midst of turbulent thoughts and feelings, the holding environment not only creates the foundation for deepening meditation practice, it addresses our need for ease, delight, warmth, and relaxation.
While comfort is necessary, it is not sufficient. The Buddha discovered this after exploring deep, blissful states of concentration. Indeed, he found these to be more satisfying than sensory pleasures. However, these states did not last and did not offer deeper insights into the nature of the mind and mental suffering. This discovery led him to the deeper search for meaning—hence, the subsequent practices of mindful investigation and inquiry.
The social dimension of practice is addressed in Buddhist teaching through the cultivation of nonharm to others and to oneself. The principle of radical interconnection is a f
oundational tenet in Buddhist psychology; practitioners are encouraged to be diligent regarding speech and action in the world. There is also an emphasis upon sangha, which refers to the likeminded practitioners who are walking this mindfulness path in community with one another.
This interpersonal aspect of mindfulness meditation is becoming increasingly important in the West. We want to know about its relevance outside of formal practice. Will mindfulness practice have an impact in our interactions and the world of relationships? Will we feel and act differently as we move through the day? We live in an outward-facing culture, and these questions matter to us. In the early years, meditation was misapprehended as a form of avoiding life’s challenges—hence, the expression “gazing at one’s navel.” Long before that, even Freud saw meditation as regressive. It was considered by many to be selfish, disconnected from life, isolating. While early assessments of meditation failed to appreciate the many psychologically rich aspects of mindfulness, contemplative exercises that do not translate meaningfully into wholesome and constructive patterns of behavior will not gain traction in this culture. Bringing mindfulness alive interpersonally is a challenge we must collectively address.
I initially believed that relationship issues were not as important as individual mindfulness practice. I was convinced that unsatisfying interpersonal patterns and intimacy issues would be taken care of, put to rest, resolved by sincere meditation practice. This would happen naturally. I would be transformed inside and out by mindfulness.
This turned out to be yet another unrealistic expectation of meditation. Wouldn’t it be lovely if one approach—a single technique (or belief or person)—could take care of everything? I recall an early, telling example of how my narrow approach to mindfulness did not improve my relationships. For several years I had learned the value of counting my breaths, from one to one hundred, more precisely when sitting in formal meditation and more generally when engaged in activities in the world. The practice was dry; there was no holding environment in it. Yet I was convinced that this was the only way to deepen practice and that eventually this would lead to the freedom I had read about. I had an unshakable confidence in this.
While my partner was also a meditator and appreciated my diligence, she reminded me from time to time that my approach was limited. One evening, when we were having dinner with another couple, I was silently and steadily counting my breaths. Later she told me I had been obviously disengaged during dinner, which she found to be disrespectful. Moreover, I was so convinced that counting my breaths was the most important thing I could be doing, more important than fully engaging with the people at my table, that I ignored her counsel. It took me a long while to see that I could be technically mindful yet inappropriate. And I certainly was not deepening my relationships!
It is not uncommon for practitioners to get stuck in a style of practice that minimizes the relational dimension of practice and that attempts to bypass anything interpersonally challenging: self-doubt, a sense of unworthiness or unlovability, social awkwardness. In my experience, interpersonal mindfulness will not arise automatically as an extension of formal mindfulness experience.
How shall we address the social dimension of mindfulness? First, by acknowledging we are social beings. One of our core needs is that of being seen and acknowledged. “I am in here! Can you see me?” is a core communication in the West. We want to be seen, heard, valued. Along the evolutionary ladder, we learned that “if I see you, you are more likely to see me.” I see this as the obvious starting point for mindfulness in the world.
My coteacher, Susan, and I have designed several relational games. In this first one, the instruction is embedded in the title.
SOCIAL MINDFULNESS GAME 1: I SEE YOU: TRANSFORM EVERY TRANSACTION INTO CONNECTION
The underlying assumption of this game is that everyone wants to be seen, even if this need has not been explicitly identified, which is all too frequently the case. Wherever I go, whoever I run into, the intention is to convey to the other that I am. We try never to have an exchange with someone that is absent this intention.
The game involves a great deal of mindful discernment and creativity, which is what makes it interesting. It is a puzzle. Just as a sense of interest is an important factor in formal meditation practice, so it is in interpersonal practice. Each person is wired differently. How can he or she be approached? Is more than brief eye contact perceived as intrusive? Is too much friendliness off-putting? What is the best way to say hello to this one? And that one? Appropriate use of humor? Discussion of the weather? People are often busy, preoccupied; how can I finesse a meaningful moment of connection in the midst of that busyness?
Sometimes it takes a few attempts. Consider a waitperson in a restaurant, for instance. There may be a professional, practiced kind of welcoming that is part of most service industries, but often this is superficial and somewhat harried. How might that person be seen and appreciated more fully, in a few brief moments? A playful, offbeat antic will often lighten the atmosphere and initiate a more relaxed flow of interaction.
This exercise is not simply altruistic. It capitalizes on a simple principle: just as the other wants to be seen, so do I. When a waitress feels seen, she sees me seeing her. I am the one who is proactively initiating a process whereby all of us may, even in a brief exchange, address this core need. It gets us out of our heads, changes our mood, and seems like a lovely practice to take up in this world-on-fire.
In the Tibetan Buddhist tradition, meditators are encouraged to imagine that everyone you encounter has been your mother in a previous lifetime. This can seem a bit of a stretch for Westerners. Whether one happens to believe in reincarnation or not, however, the purpose of this reflection is to increase a sense of affinity with our species as one moves through the world.
The following exercise is oriented toward breaking down the sense of guardedness and disconnection that often populates our interpersonal lives.
SOCIAL MINDFULNESS GAME 2: THERE BUT FOR THE GRACE OF CONDITIONS
1. As you move through your day, first notice someone who appears to be upbeat, smiling.
2. Imagine that the person has experienced something positive that accounts for this delight, has felt seen, admired, has known success.
3. Next notice someone who appears distracted, lost in thought, hurried.
4. Consider that this person may feel pressured, stressed, burdened by circumstance, unable presently to relax or access lightness.
5. Next notice someone who seems depressed.
6. This person may have experienced loss or deprivation, perhaps is isolated, filled with self-doubt, unable to access joy.
7. Notice someone who appears to be impatient, angry.
8. Reflect that this person may have known rejection, disappointment, unrequited love, and is unable to access ease and friendliness.
9. Perhaps we are all subject to causes and conditions that shape our disposition and outlook. At times you, too, have appeared to be upbeat, distracted, depressed, or irritable.
10. Notice someone else now. Imagine that you can see this person’s life unfold in time-lapse photography, viewing significant moments in his or her early upbringing, moving forward to moments of joy, moments of sorrow and loss, and then to what happened earlier today.
11. Whatever emotional state this person appears to be manifesting, does it make more sense now? Does it change the sense of connection with this person? Does it elicit a sense of compassion?
I also find it useful to bring relational mindfulness into retreats, workshops, and work with couples. The following dyadic exercise brings into focus a more subtle appreciation of seeing and being seen.
SOCIAL MINDFULNESS GAME 3: SWIMMING IN THE SAME AQUARIUM
1. Sit facing another person. Before you both close your eyes, decide which of you will ring the bell and open their eyes first. Both of you close your eyes. Take a few moments to settle in, soften the breath.
2. In a moment, one of you will open your
eyes, ring the bell, and gaze upon the person before you. The other will keep eyes closed with the awareness that he or she is being seen by the partner.
3. Both of you can notice what happens in your experience as you prepare to do this exercise. Does the breath change? What thoughts arise? Are you aware of discomfort or anxiety?
4. Now, one of you open your eyes, ring the bell, and look at your partner. For two or three minutes, both of you mindfully check in on your experience. What is it like to gaze upon another human being whose eyes are closed? What is it like to be gazed upon? Can you open to this?
5. Consider the following: Just like you, this person before you was once young, a child, exploring the world, has known both joy and sorrow, has had challenges, has known success and disappointment. Just like you, she has had dreams; some have come true, some not. Just like you, she has known love and loss, the exuberance of victory and the pain of defeat. And just like you, she too wants to love and be loved.
6. The person with eyes open now rings the bell; both of you close your eyes and take two or three minutes to be with your experience. Prepare to switch positions.
7. The other person now opens her eyes and rings the bell. Gazing at her partner, the observer reflects: Before you is a fellow human being, sharing this precious and challenging life. Just like you, he has endured much to arrive at this point in life, has known joy and sorrow, acceptance and rejection, sickness as well as health. He is growing old just like you, wants to be more comfortable in his skin and in the world, wants to find a deeper sense of purpose, grow in wisdom and compassion, just like you.
8. The person gazing rings the bell. Both of you close your eyes and open to your felt experience.
9. After three minutes, open your eyes and share your experience with each other.
The qualities of the holding environment are important both on the cushion and off. The more we develop these qualities in formal practice, the more they begin to show up in our day-to-day lives. Letting go of detailed mindfulness is necessary in interaction, however; holding onto this can itself create tension in daily life. A softer, more spacious approach is called for. Interacting with others, with eyes wide open, is complex and also calls for self-compassion. We are not simply watching people from a distance in these exercises. As participant-observers, we have our own triggers and vulnerabilities, our own interpersonal disappointments and needs to be seen. Being generous with ourselves and appreciating our intention is beneficial in any interaction.