On Meditation

I only meditate in order to talk condescendingly to people who do not meditate. This brings me a singular joy. It is my hope that by writing a blog article about meditation I can use the lens of the internet in order to bring this feeling of superiority into sharper focus. What has surprised me, however, is that some secondary benefits have become apparent to me over my time practicing. These are also perhaps not the most advertised ones of calm and stress relief, but ones which are a little harder to describe.

I remember in year 8 (around 12 years old), my religious studies teacher posed the question of free will. Do we have it or is it merely an illusion? I personally thought that this was a load of old tosh. Clearly we all had free will and she was absurd to suggest otherwise. That evening I went home and performed a series of unpredictable and bizarre actions in order to prove to myself I had free will, including emptying a cup of water on my head.

But if I had been so sure that I had free will, why had I felt the need to prove it with these actions? I think that it was not because I personally doubted my autonomy, but because the very suggestion that it was a topic that was up for discussion unsettled me. Ten years later, studying neuroscience, it became very clear to me that we have no more free will than a single-celled organism; we merely do a lot more thinking to arrive at our decisions. Disappointingly, this isn’t even a controversial point of view anymore; I can’t remember the last time I met someone who thought we have free will¹. But there is a difference between knowing something and feeling it.

To sit in stillness long enough to feel your edges dissolve and blur into the surroundings is quite remarkable. To lose the sensation of having a centre. To stop being buffeted by thought, and want, and fear for even a few seconds (for this is all I can currently achieve) and just experience clearly what is to exist with no adulteration. To not just understand, but to feel, that thoughts and feelings are one and the same, and that you have no control over how they rise and fall, how they appear and disappear. And by understanding that you do not create your thoughts and feelings but are merely subject to them, you come to realise you can exert no free will over your actions.

But to describe this is nonsense. I cannot describe it, and trying to tell someone what it feels like to be conscious is futile. People won’t listen because they already know what it is to be conscious. And we do not have the words to capture the understanding. But I also thought that I knew what it was to be, yet now after years of on-and-off meditation I see that I only get glimpses of what is to be awake to the nature of consciousness.²

And so in order to sell meditation, it is taboo to discuss the nature of the mind. It is verboten. If Headspace wants you to pay a monthly subscription they must do it by telling you that meditation will relieve stress and increase productivity. And because they are scared of people running away from the mildest hint of “spirituality”³ they must sell a watered-down version of meditation — a glorified breathing exercise.

Fortunately, it is easy to sell meditation like this because it probably does relieve stress and make you more productive. I have found that by bringing more moments of mindfulness into my life, I take more intentional actions. As the sense of presence I find in meditation spills further into my daily life, I find it harder to just watch YouTube and scroll on Reddit. I am more awake, and more clear of mind to take actions that I will enjoy more. Writing this blog is a clear example for me. A year ago I would be spending this time watching a 20-minute documentary on why “The Wire” is the best TV show ever made (could be my next blog post), but now I am putting efforts into writing, among many other things.

I also find that I am appreciating beauty more in my life. Once again, as I live my life with more presence, and less as though I am in a trance, I am more aware of my surroundings. I notice the colour of the leaves on my cycle to work. I stop to take a photo. Even in the current grey October London weather, I enjoy the contrast to the brightness of summer, and the sight of monochrome buildings against the sky. I have always been susceptible to the everyday beauty around me, but to my pleasure I am noticing this more and more.

My tips:

• Meditate in the morning. As close to first thing as possible is preferable for me, otherwise it becomes a chore and hangs over me. I also find that I simply cannot meditate in the evening, for my mind wanders something awful.
• Accountability. I have made a shared spreadsheet with a close friend who also meditates. We each indicate that we have meditated by placing a little “🧘” emoji into a calendar. If we notice the other has been missing from the spreadsheet, we check in and send a word of encouragement.
• I enjoy the “Waking Up” app of all the ones I have tried. I currently alternate days of guided and unguided meditation.
• Running without music doesn’t count. You should definitely do this (or alternate silent activity), as it will give you time to be alone with your thoughts. However, it is not the intentional practice that is required to derive insight into the mind.
• I know many people who are frankly frightened of meditation, and cannot face the silence. I would suggest these are the people who would stand to benefit the most from meditation. I would also suggest that guided meditation is easier to begin with.
• Guided meditation is definitely proper meditation and anyone who suggests otherwise is boring and not cool.

My plan moving forward:

• I tend to only meditate 10 minutes per day. This makes it very easy to fit in, but I wonder if longer sessions would yield more results. I often find it can take me 10 minutes to get settled. However, I find the thought of 15-minute meditation rather frightening compared to my pedestrian 10 minutes.

-therealbuffalo

1. I appreciate that I discuss free will with a minority of the people I meet, and that some free-willers, like Tories, will probably keep their heads down at a dinner party.

2. I am doubtful that it matters beyond personal interest. Have my parents or grandparents or great-grandparents ever meditated? Did they ever let the fact they didn’t have free will stop them?

3. I don’t view this as spirituality, but it can be packaged with spirituality in a way that is anathema to both the theistic and the atheistic.