When I was in high school, I had my first experience of sitting meditation during a Tae Kwon Do class. I was sitting against the back wall, sweating and breathing deeply. I had been sparring, and now others were. Rather than watching them, though, I just focused my gaze ahead and concentrated on breathing.
I had never thought about meditating at that point, didn't really know what "meditation" consisted of. I was just comfortable, had a great awareness of my body (tired, slightly sore, but also energetic), and amazed that there was so much stillness as I saw the fixtures beneath the water fountain, the carpet, the walls, beyond and around the people punching, kicking, jumping and dodging. The only word that came to mind in that gap was "focus," and every experience of focus has, for me, referred back to that point in time and space.
Over the years, as employment and bills and Facebook posts have claimed so much of my time, effort and attention, that sense of focus has decreased all but entirely. Sometimes I even noticed the correlation between a lack of focus and the decrease of thoughts and activities that I consisted worthwhile... and yet I would not do anything to change it.
That was a big part of why coming to the abbey was important to me. Amid the comfort of home, the fun of games and movies, the deliciousness of beers and whiskeys, I wasn't feeling motivated to change--and yet I could see how not changing was affecting me and my experience of life. I'd known better.
Group meditation helped, because two or three times a week I would be in a room with other people practicing. The excuses at home* aren't so excusable once I've shown up to a place where Meditation is What I'm Doing For the Next Hour. But outside of that, I was still pretty lazy. The Buddha once told a musician that he should practice meditation like he tuned his strings: not too right, not too lose. I was practicing too loose.
On our third weekend here, we made a trip to Halifax for a program with Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche. We were all split up for housing with various kind folks from the Halifax sangha. Nobody to wake us up with sticks clacking, no morning chants. Back to alarm clocks, blue jeans, and a variety of food to choose from.** The routine we'd grown into over the first two weeks was obliterated, and I had to grow into it again.
Meditation can be tedious, and even boring, and it's very clear to me this week how difficult it is to face that after even a short break. But two hours into a three-hour session yesterday, I had that moment of focus, of being fully present like I had been in that Tae Kwon Do class twenty years ago.
It's a good start.
*gotta do the dishes, gotta get this movie back to the Red Box before I get charged again, gotta watch that movie before I can take it back...
**I chose barbecue for every meal.
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