The Best Buddhist Writing 2010 - Melvin McLeod [39]
As we are inquiring into our present state, doubtful, skeptical thoughts about the whole process may emerge: “I don’t feel like I’m distracted by thoughts of the future or the past. Many of my thoughts are about the present. Sure, I’d rather be doing something (anything) else right now. What’s the point of this exercise, anyway? I don’t think I’m sleepwalking through life, at least not most of the time. Has it been three minutes yet?” Again, the truth is not a matter of belief or accepting some traditional dogma. Truth is uncovered by closely examining our own experience. Answers are discovered through seeing what is actually happening in our body and mind. Here, the proof of the recipe is definitely found in the taste of the pudding. Cook—and then taste-test for yourself. Just look and see what is happening at present. Don’t take anyone’s word for it. Look—honestly and directly.
Just notice—and then notice again, noticing what’s happening in the next moment and then the one after that.
DON’T REJECT ANYTHING
Even this simple exercise of precise awareness and honesty involves bravery—we’re letting go of our preconceived ideas about what our experience is (or should be) and taking a fresh look for a change. We’re letting go of old judgments. We’re not trying to make anything in particular happen or achieve a specific state of mind. We’re not meditating. We’re just noticing what is already going on in the present—without any manipulation. Don’t try to hold on to what occurs: If it feels relatively pleasant to sit simply for a moment like this, let it be that way. If it feels like nothing special is happening, then let that be as well. Similarly, if it feels slightly uncomfortable and unfamiliar, let that feeling of awkwardness arise. Does it linger and then dissipate? Above all, don’t condemn or reject anything that’s arising in your experience: “Is this really the way my mind jumps around all day long—like a grasshopper that’s had too many espressos? That wasn’t a very loving thought, now, was it? Why am I still thinking about that? What comes next, what comes next, what comes next? Is this what’s supposed to be happening? What’s wrong with me today? I think I was more present last week—what happened?”
In Robert Heinlein’s science-fiction novel Stranger in a Strange Land, he describes several truthful, evenhanded beings called Fair Witnesses. Adopt the attitude of “fair witnessing” toward all your experiences for a moment, gradually relaxing the pervasive compulsion to grasp and hug the best and happiest moments while avoiding the ugly, unpleasant ones. As much as possible, return again and again to noticing, noticing, just noticing, with a simple, nonjudgmental attitude of curiosity and gentle inquiry. What is happening here and now for you, within your own experience? Notice with the open attitude of a good friend you haven’t seen for a while. This is the friend who genuinely wants to know your state of being, who asks and then listens carefully to hear the answer to the question: how are you? Listening in your own experience for the answer to this contemplative question is the essence of genuine self-reflection.
MORE THAN A FAIR-WEATHER FRIEND TO OURSELVES
In this simple way, we begin to make true friends with ourselves in a thorough and profound way instead of being a fair-weather friend. We say, “Jack and Jane are mostly fair-weather friends,” meaning these are friends we can spend time with when all is going well and sailing along smoothly, but during high-stress times of grief and loss, illness, or divorce, Jack and Jane don’t come around. The invitation of a daily meditation practice is to move beyond such a superficial, fair-weather friendship with ourselves.
After all, it’s fairly easy to love those aspects of ourselves that others approve