Watching-a-fountain-meditation

While I was recording my latest podcast episode, I found my attention drawn to a fountain outside my window.  A fairly large fountain, it's water shoots several feet straight up.  It captivated me with its grace and beauty and as I was talking, I found myself being drawn into a meditative state.  That experience got spontaneously incorporated into what I was talking about and became an example of two ways of meditating -- one is "contemplation" and the other is what I'll call, for want of a better word, "diving". Had I wanted to stop recording, I could have used the experience of watching the fountain in a number of ways to meditate.  If I were to use it for contemplation, I would have found meaning in the way the water moved, the shapes the water takes, the whole phenomenon of the existence of the fountain.  I could have thought about how the fountain was a reflection of life or how it mirrored my emotions and inner world.  I could have found all sorts of meanings in the patterns of the water.  Contemplation involves the exploration of meaning.  Traditional contemplative practices might start with a brief reading followed by time spent exploring the meaning.  

The other type of meditation, the one which I was drawn into, doesn't involve meaning.  Rather than thinking about the fountain and what it might symbolize and mean, I was simply watching the movement and patterns of the water.  In such a meditation,  meaning is left behind.  The object of attention is viewed without meaning.  Meaning keeps the mind actively engaged and when we let go of meaning, the mind can "detach" and go within.  This allows for a deeply restful and rejuvenating experience. 

Meditation always involves a shift in attention.  When we meditate, we use our attention in specific ways to achieve specific effects.  In this case the focus of attention was the fountain, and I could have used that focus in a number of different ways.  Another effect of watching the fountain, or anything in nature, in this way is that you take in the qualities of what you see.  Everything we see, hear, touch, taste or smell has an effect.  It's as if our nervous system is a complex tuning fork that resonates in different ways depending on where we put our attention.  Allowing in the impressions of the patterns of nature realigns us with our own life force.  As I remember the experience with the fountain now, I can feel the energy and vitality of life as it is expressed in flowing water.

Spontaneous meditations happen all of the time.  Usually we're in too much of a rush to take advantage of these moments.  The next time you step outside and the sound of a bird, sight of a flower or light of the moon captivates you, pause for a bit to drink in the experience.  Notice those times during the day when your attention naturally shifts in a way that is nourishing and brings peace.  It could be something as simple as a smile from a co-worker or an image on the web.  Take advantage of those shifts by slowing down a bit and giving yourself time to sink into them.    

What is meditation? On the play of student and teacher.

I have meditated for most of my life, I've taught meditation, I lead guided meditations and yet I can no longer say what meditation is. Once upon a time I thought I knew a lot about it. I thought I knew the best way to meditate and what the most "worthy" goals for meditating were. I had lots of opinions about meditation, and those opinions were extremely important to me. And now I find myself happily free of all these notions. Meditation means so many different things to different people, and from my point of view, all those meanings are equally valid.

Sometimes people see me as an expert in meditation, and yet here I am unable to answer the simple question "what is meditation?". My understanding of meditation constantly evolves. The idea of myself, or anyone else, being an expert in meditation is quite funny to me. Although it might serve my interests to pose as an expert (after I do make guided meditation CDs for sale), the idea seems absurd.

Each of us have such a unique journey on our spiritual path, and I can hardly pretend to be an expert on anyone else's. Perhaps I seem like an expert to someone who is really happy with the experience they have with my guided meditations. It seems as if it is something about me or my words that brought about their good experience, but in actuality it is simply the unfolding of their own journey that coincided in this most delightful way with the unfolding of mine.

The real expert on your spiritual path is you. You are the one having your experiences, and even if a teacher in some way seems to help you along, it is you who find truth or meaning in the teacher's words or actions. You are an expert on what meditation is for you. The teacher is your mirror.

Of course, we feel gratitude those who help us along the way. That we are ultimately our own authority does not diminish that. I feel tremendous gratitude for all of those teachers who have inspired me on my path. I also feel gratitude to those who thank me for what I have given them. Nothing is more fulfilling than feeling that we have helped another. We are walking this path together and our learning is mutual, and yet in this mysterious play of life we play the roles of teacher and student and the reward is love and gratitude.

What is meditation for you?