Nothing Sticks

I’m not sure what it is about these cusp birthdays (i.e. 18, 20, 21) that suggests one ought to have felt a light turn on inside. I’m referring to some switch that would flood the mind with clarity, the kind that washed away all overchewed adolescent anxieties. This craving for a clear conscience blooms out of a confused one - one that’s not sure who to listen to anymore. All a person is left to do then, is to turn to himself, only to realize that his own voice is just an echo of all the souls that proceeded: school and its knowledge, adults and their dogmas, the poets and their rom-antics.

Marlen Khutsiev’s I Am Twenty (1962) is a coming-of-age film that follows a young soldier who returns to his hometown. Like the changing of harsh Moscow seasons, his life is full of raging inconsistencies defined by, on one hand - the external world of technological booms and new nationalism; and on the other, his internal locale of rapturous uncertainties between friends, family, and lovers. Sometimes overwhelmed, other times desperately underwhelmed, our soldier searches for a semblance of “order” in this classic Soviet story from the postwar generation.

That’s right, “forgot it all.” Fast forward about sixty years to 2020, and replace those school books for new age literature cranking out thousands of tailored self-productivity and self-peace systems, philosophies, routines, and habits, and still… nothing sticks. There is, however, one last resort.

This is a practice that people like you and I have turned to since time immemorial. One that’s meant to stand apart from all systems, ideals, and authority. A tradition that disregards the very notion of tradition, and penetrates questions core to our existence. This is of course, meditation.

PRECONCEPTIONS, to be taken with a high dose of doubt

“Meditation” is a word that manages to be familiar and yet somehow, foreign. My first serious run-ins with the term came through social media - first as a form of self-help and therapy, and then as enchanting, often spooky promises of “enlightenment” and “energy awakening” at the deeper end. No matter how much research I did, it seemed that talking about the subject was like walking on a tightrope. I wasn’t exactly sure what it was, and I wondered at how some speakers were so convinced by their definitions. Some would shrug their shoulders and say it’s “nothing,” as in coming into contact with the true nothingness of the world (think “dhyana” in Sanskrit, “zen” in Japanese), but when they said “nothing,” it’s as if they still referred to something. These were the traps of language and psychological abstraction - the veil through which most of us still see the world in front of them. Therefore constantly juggling wordplay through the likes of “little y” you and “big Y” You, that is to say, simply musing about meditation intellectually was, after a hot second, rather pointless.

Despite such online allure, I was still inclined to believe that meditation, in practice, was something far removed from many of these discussions. That it was something inherently unknown and sacred, something that wasn’t exactly a “thing,” as so many of our popular 70s/80s spiritual teachers are quick to remind, “the w-o-r-d is not the thing.” But for months, I was still trying to capture some state of mind, heightened experience, or irreversible radical transformation. Just like the Soviet soldier’s meandering search for order, this was mine. Then, I knew that instead of asking, what am I looking for? I had to turn and deal with what is.

Jiddu Krishnamurthi spent decades of his life speaking to audiences worldwide, his sole subject being mankind’s freedom. One of my favorite lines from Krishnaji is that meditation - synonymous with observation, listening, total awareness - is like a fire. But what is the spirit that kindles this fire?

To answer this, I turn back to my childhood, full of marvelous tales of the most canonically famous meditator, Lord Buddha. My mother, having had to convert post-marriage to the much more dogmatic traditions of Catholicism, never regarded her Buddhist upbringing with such weight of religious creed. “Religion” to her wasn’t something you had to subscribe to, as it didn’t stand outside of daily living.

And so, every other evening, she’d tell me the classics such as the one about Buddha’s birth, when lotus flowers bloomed in wake of his stumbling baby steps. When I grew a little older, she told me that he’d left his wife after their son was born, because the princely life was not for him. My brother would then tell me, before Buddha had left the palace, he’d never even seen an aged person before. Walking outside, he came into contact for the very first time with the dejected masses - the sick, poor, and old. He couldn’t understand why there was so much suffering in this world. After studying with a few holy men for a brief period, he realized he would have to go about these questions all by himself. Finally, at his wit’s end, he decided to stop. Completely. He sat underneath the Bodhi tree to “do nothing.” 52 days later, he woke up.

This is the spirit of meditation. But you say that was thousands of years ago, why meditate at all nowadays?

“WHAT IS”

During this quarantine, we have seen a surge of mental illness (all sprouting from the common denominator of the self, which meditation confronts). One doesn’t have to look up statistics to realize the urgency; you actually don’t have to look farther than your social media feed to see friend after friend posting affirming quotes and reminders. These posts themselves aren’t dangerous, but the more they show up, one realizes that in this solitude, we can’t seem to live with ourselves. This is an ache that will continue to throb even after the pandemic, and so, during this empty time, it’s vital that we finally listen.

GUIDED MEDITATION

Truth is these days, after waking up and looking out the window, one feels almost like a kid who doesn’t have to go to school. The problem is, it sure is easy for that characteristically “adult” lethargy to intrude even before getting out of the bed. What we’re missing is a fearless, childlike fluidity that can only spring from a clear mind. Therefore, the following exercise is meant to calm your mind by rerouting it from its daily onset of chatter. As well, I hope the next few minutes kindle that inner holy fire I was talking about earlier.

*For this guided walking meditation, you don’t have to leave your home, but this will be an option in the end. The best time to practice is straightaway in the morning, ideally before getting out of bed.

Let’s get started.

You have just woken up. Go ahead and lie flat on your back. Rest your head comfortably on your pillow. Straighten your spine as if you were trying to stand taller.

Open your eyes. Take a second to think about how many times you’ve done this - woken up to this sight - day after day, month after month, year after year. When you wake up, what’s the first thing you see? Maybe you’re looking at the ceiling, or out a window near your bed. Are the curtains still drawn in your room? Observe the play of sunlight and shadows in your room.

How do the blankets feel on your skin? Are they silk, cotton, or really plushy? Does the bed below you feel springy or firm? How about your pillow?

Now close your eyes as if you were going back to sleep. . Place your palms right below your ribcage. Feel the softness of your breath as it comes in and out of your belly. Don’t try to time or control your breath, take a few moments to simply watch your breath as it operates all by itself.

Now BIG inhale for 1, 2, 3…

BIG exhale for 3, 2, 1…

Repeat 3 times.

As your breath has become fuller and more drawn out by now, observe the physical sensations of your bed all together, without singling out any particular sensation. Enjoy this feeling for as long as you wish here.

At your breath’s natural pace:

Inhale…

Exhale…

Inhale…

Exhale…

Inhale…

Exhale…

Repeat as many times as you wish. Right when you feel as if you want to fall back asleep, open your eyes!

Now we’re going to do a quick dragon’s breath.

Inhale for 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Then let out a loud, powerful EXHALE.

Repeat this as many times as you wish.

Next, wiggle your toes. Rotate your ankles. Now’s the time to slowly remove your blanket and place your feet on the floor delicately. How does the floor feel? Is it warm or cold?

Feel the earth firm up beneath your feet as you stand and readjust to a comfortable, tall posture. Hands at your sides, continue to watch your breath.

At this moment, I want you to focus your energy and will towards your feet. Let them act on their own, let them decide the direction. Go ahead and walk around your room. Keep your head straight forward, taking in all your surroundings. Don’t try to describe them. The colors, the shapes, see them all as one sight.

Can you hear anything? Birds outside the window? Are there others in the house going about their daily activities? Listen to that as one sound.

If your feet wish, leave your room and roam around your house. Go through hallways, into different rooms, continuing to breathe, and listening to your sights and sounds without any effort, without trying to verbalize anything you experience.

At this moment, are you having any thoughts? Watch them and let them walk on their own as your feet are doing right now. Don’t try to analyze, extract any meaning or significance from them. If you do try to analyze, or even repress your thoughts, realize these turns as a part of one stream.

Observe this whole movement of thought as it comes and falls apart on its own.

Do not separate the movement of your thoughts from your walk. Try to see the whole of this experience totally, as one single motion.

Wherever you are in your home, stop. Close your eyes.

Take a deeep breath in for 1 2 3 4

Now exhale for 4 3 2 1

Slow your breath. As you’re doing this, do you feel a tension in your head? If you do, I want you to imagine that tension turning into a ball. Hold that ball in your head. Now, let it drop down to your heart.

This is your heart center. As you breathe here, let your voice hum on the exhales. Listen to the vibrations that you produce in the air. Repeat however many times you wish.

Open your eyes. Shake your arms and legs, let loose. Breathe easy. Whatever you need to do right now to get your day started, go ahead and get to it! Whatever you it is, try and stay in this moment. I use the word “try” lightly, but remember your body, as you have observed these past few minutes, is naturally always in this moment.

Thank you so much for listening in, and I hope your day flies by with that inner childlike fluidity.

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And just remember, Nothing sticks.