Why Practice?

The thing about mindfulness practice is the benefits. I mean, that’s not the only thing - it’s not a benefit-driven endeavor. Hopefully there’s a little altruism mixed in.

But the benefits are big. First, there’s the calm that arises when the body is still and the mind is quiet. That’s worth all the effort in the world, and it’s portable, too: I notice I can take it with me into my day, which is good for me, and good for everyone else, too.

The other benefit is the insight. Insight into the way it’s not easy, this being human. Insight into how to hold things lightly, since everything is coming and going anyway, slipping through our fingers, and we’re all just here for a moment. And insight into how connected we are, even if we forget - how we breathe from the same air, drink from the same rainfall, live and love dependent, and depending, on one another. 

All of which begs the same question as always: how to love one another just a little bit better, each day. 

Transcript

Hi everyone, it’s Judi Cohen and this is Wake Up Call #510. The US government shut-down is over. The Epstein files may be released. There’s so much happening all the time, it feels like an especially good time to be practicing. So let’s look at the why – why practice Wise Mindfulness, which is where we are on the Eightfold Path. 

Last time I said a little about how to practice by bringing the attention to the breath, the body, or sound, using these as anchors or refuges, which is essentially the basics of the First Foundation of Mindfulness. And how it’s important to do that with diligence but also kindness and love, so that when the attention wanders, which it will, we’re amused at the wandering mind but not upset or frustrated with it. And that as we practice, what we’re doing is training to pay attention in the present moment. 

Before we look at the other three of the Four Foundations of Mindfulness, l want to talk about why. Why train the mind to pay attention to the breath, the body, or sound – train it to stay in the present moment? Why train in what let’s call, as a catch-all, focused awareness meditation?

Two reasons. The first might sound like the most practical: focused awareness leads to greater concentration. The second might sound like the most intriguing: focused awareness leads to insight. 

Focused awareness pointing towards concentration, is practical. Greater concentration means we’re less distracted by our thoughts, the world, our devices. It means we’re more present and therefore happier, according to the science. It means we can more easily stay on-task and be more efficient. It means we’re more present for those we love. 

Concentration also makes us calmer. This has to do with concentration itself, which, as I’ve been trained, is a state of profound relaxation combined with a very, very, gentle but persistent placing and re-placing of the attention on the breath, body, or sound. It’s about inviting the mind and the body into the most relaxed stillness imaginable. 

Concentration like this, when the mind and body are both deeply relaxed and still, creates the possibility for the nervous system to calm down. During the practice, the mind isn’t ruminating, worrying, focusing on a to-do list, or even reacting to whatever is coming and going in the field of awareness. The body isn’t fidgeting. The hands aren’t reaching for a keyboard of some kind, or even itching to do that. The feet aren’t tapping; the fingers aren’t wiggling. We’re simply attending to the breath, body, or sound, and letting the rest go. And whenever something that’s been let go, arises again, we simply let go again, and come back to relaxed stillness. Even though the to-do list and all the worries will be there when the bell rings, in my experience, so will some residue, or reservoir, of calm. So focused awareness develops our powers of concentration, plus it infuses our practice, and our lives, with calm.  

And when it doesn’t, when concentration and calm aren’t available, then to quote the beloved Palestinian American poet Naomi Shihab Nye, “only kindness makes sense.” The only thing to do, when stillness isn’t available, or concentration feels illusive, or calm feels impossible, is to be kind, to ourselves and to the wandering or agitated mind. The only thing to do. 

So one way to practice focused awareness practice, which – naming our bookmark, is part of the “how” of Wise Mindfulness – is in the direction of concentration and calm. Another other way to practice with it, is in the direction of insight, or of three main insights: the insights into suffering, impermanence, and not-self. 

When we sit in stillness and notice pain in the body, for example, or a stressful thought, or sorrow, we gain insight into suffering: we begin to see the truth, to understanding, that pain, stress, sorrow, and other difficulties, too, like anger and fear and discomfort of all kinds – all of the difficulties we face, in fact - are just part of being human, features not bugs according to Gullu Singh, illuminating the experience of the ride we’re on as humans, which is, by its nature, a bumpy one. When we get this, in our bones, in our whole mind/body – when we stop arguing against the way things are, stop writing and arguing our own, personal, never-ending motion for relief from suffering, as my friend Scott Rogers talks about and which we’ll inevitably lose, we’re having a moment of insight into suffering, into the truth of the way things are. This moment is just like this, as all the great teachers remind us. 

Insight into impermanence is the second insight that’s available when we practice. Focusing on the breath, we see right away how it flows in, then out; focusing on the body, how sensations arise, then fade; focusing on sound, how sound arises, then dissipates. We see through paying attention to memories that arise, how relationships arise, flourish, can flounder and end, or can strengthen and persevere, but are always in flux, no matter how dearly we’d like to tie them down. We see through sensations that arise, how no pain is constant but also how this whole body will someday be food for the fishes, or the worms. We see the truth of the matter: that everything, including us, is simply arising and fading away. It may not sound like it until you see it, but when you do, it's a profoundly peaceful and inspiring insight: peaceful, to remember that we don’t need to grab onto anything, we can let life run through us; and inspiring, because even though we’re just here for a minute, we care so much about the world, so the work of healing the world – our work – is such a treasure. 

The third insight, the insight into not-self, is seeing, as we practice, that although we may think of our “selves” as fixed and identifiable, in fact we’re changing all the time, even as we sit still. There’s no fixed Judi, only an ever-changing flow. We’re each different from when we arrived at today’s Wake Up Call, and before this sentence ended, different still. And yet we’re human, so we have volition – we can choose how to show up in each moment. And that choice matters, because what we say and do, affects everyone else. So in this insubstantial world, where we’re bumping up against one another all the time, the insight into not-self is also the insight into that we belong to one another and therefore are responsible for one another, and so there’s nothing to do but to be kind. As the Dalai Lama says, Kindness is my religion. Be kind whenever possible. It’s always possible.