A True Joy

A true joy: 

for me, and this happened after several years of practice, meditation became a true joy when I no longed used the mantra as a weapon to wield against the presence of every thought that came to me, believing that only a quiet mind was spiritual and holy. Of course I wasn't taught to use the mantra this way, the method I learned, and now teach, offers the notion that thoughts are a completely natural function of the mind, not to be discouraged, and only transcended in the sense that they are recognized in their passing, insubstantial really, existing without the actuality of a thinker. 

thoughts arise, pass, and it's silence that remains. 

or I should that it's silence that's noticed, finally, that it was only by surrendering the mantra to its proper use, not clinging to its presence, but listening to it now, allowing, and it was with this that meditation became a true joy - silence, thoughts, every sound and even disturbance are a seamless flow of listening, all belonging to a single field of being, and at a certain point just a bare distinction made. The mantra isn't a weapon, it's only another thought, more subtle though, finer in vibration. Meditation became a true joy when I dropped the need for silence and simply allowed its presence to be known. This isn't about striving to reach a certain point of conscious understanding, there are no levels here, only the unfolding of the mind to its truest, purest essence. 

quiet by its nature. 

for some reason I had the belief that concentration was the key, that the mantra was exclusive in its presence and no other thoughts were allowed. There was little joy with this practice, I was guarded, poised to react to the appearance of every thought. The opposite, really, to how I was taught. But it developed as a habit and meditation was less a joy and more of a struggle. It was only by revisiting the roots of my practice, reviewing the actual method and original teaching that I began to let loose and find an ease with the mantra, actually listening to it, allowing its vibration to sink me deeper within my own natural silence, always there, available, but missed by the very obviousness of its presence.

the true joy of meditation is within the ease of its practice.

allowing.

listening. 

so there are thoughts, and at first they seem a distraction, noise, and we yearn for peace of mind. The mantra is introduced gently, easily, with innocence, we simply listen and allow it to be repeated when it next comes to mind. There's no rhythm, no cadence, nor need to force its presence. Other thoughts arise, yet we are more at ease now, there's no wish to interfere with their passage, they belong as easily as the mantra, simply an occurrence, nothing more. And we think the mantra, thoughts happen, mantra once more...and somewhere...without notice...silence...thoughts...mantra...silence...somehow deeper...mantra, faint, a bare impression, more subtle...

silence.

thoughts still happen, and we'll get caught up in their appearance, but it's just a process now, the true joy of listening, allowing, and yes, even thinking - it all belongs. 

~

Peace, Eric