A digest for conscious living
I was relived to wake up feeling much better today and completed my practice before breakfast. Today I feel my clarity returning along with the emotional stability which was so sorely lacking for the past two days. I am glad that the dark spirit or energy which was visiting me is gone now. The feeling is similar to the one I get the day I wake up and finally feel healthy after a tough cold. The vigor and ruddiness of life feels all the sweeter for having been briefly absent.
I think it is worth reminding myself that I should never expect anything from my daily practice. I should not seek a particular feeling or state of mind. It is enough that I do the practice. Even if my mind wanders, or my body feels tight, the important thing is completing the ritual. Although most of the time there is certainly a pleasant if not blissful aspect to the Practice, it should not become a goal or a measure of what has been accomplished. The reason for this is twofold.
Firstly, any expectations or ambition regarding my Practice will taint the purity of my intent. It is the “Beginner’s Mind” that Sunryu Suzuki speaks about that has the necessary innocence to accept reality without judgement.
Over the years I have experienced many discoveries, insights, and moments of Kensho which although varying in intensity, have all been special. It is however the memory of the very first Kensho experience that I ever had which remains perhaps the purest of all.
I had been meditating diligently for a few months and had just gotten up from a meditation to go somewhere- I don’t recall my destination. I was waking down the street on my way to the subway, when suddenly, a streetcar disturbed a flock of pidgeons that had been pecking for crumbs along the rails. The sudden clapping of wings ignited a rush of goose bumbs along my back and neck as I saw the birds take flight. I had never experienced this before- tears welled in my eyes as I witnessed the wonder of that moment in its full depth. The feelings of connection between everything and everone and the beauty of the even the most mundane of objects and circumstances were heightened by the fact that I had no point of reference to which to relate this experience. My mind was like a pristine canvas against which even the most subtle of impressions were unbelieveably stark. Perhaps it wasn’t the most intense spiritual experience I have ever had, but I will never forget it because more than any other it was literally incomparable.
The second reason for not carrying expectations into my Practice is more practical. They are not necessary. What I perceive during my yoga or meditation- the state of body or mind that I achieve- is relatively insignificant. What is of much more import is what I don’t perceive. It is what is communicated to my subconscious through the ritual of Practice that is ultimately the true substance of my spiritual development. The subconscious speaks in symbols, imagery, and feelings, not it thoughts and words. Thus it is enough to light a stick of precious incense, sit down purposefully on my cushion, cross my legs and take the posture. In so doing, I have turned myself into the symbol. I have taken part in the ritual. I have made space in my life for this moment and no matter what happens in my conscious mind, I have sent a very clear message to the true governor, my subconscious mind, in language that it understands clearly. The message states: I am here. I am now. This is enough.
Goodnight,
Kikta