Column: Practicing meditation
I have followed a variety of meditation practices since the early 70s. It has always been the best way to quiet the ceaseless chatter in my brain. I sensed something “right” about the practice even when I didn’t achieve enlightenment. Oh, enlightenment was a goal, for a while, but then I’ve always been afraid of amping up my practice with a week or a month of silent meditation at a retreat.
So, I stumble along, half-heartedly, with a daily prayer and meditation practice in hopes that someday I am able to be present, here and now, and to truly show up; that it will last and not be just a fleeting awareness that I am on the right path.
In the pursuit of being truly present I know in my heart that showing up and standing up are both necessary. I cannot just think and feel it, I must also act it. With knowledge and understanding comes the responsibility of action, of living that knowledge and understanding. There is an obvious paradox in knowing that something is right because I do not know it with my mind, but I feel it with my heart. When I feel it with my heart, if I want to be true to it, I must act on it; I must live it.
In acting on what I understand and know to be right I do not have to have a great impact; I do not have to write an award-winning essay. I have to be consistent and live my beliefs. I try very hard to listen to and understand opposing points of view. I try to hold my tongue and understand what is being said and why it might be true or right, even if it is right for the person speaking but not right for me. Time will have the answer.
I am learning how to not take myself seriously but to step back and consider what is going on around me. I often find I do not have to act on or say what might first come to mind. Sometimes it is better to say nothing; to just listen. That is very hard for me to do but it works very well.
There are concepts from Buddhist teachings and Bill Wilson’s 12 steps that come to mind when I try to act on what I know in my heart. Being present in the here and now from the Buddhist way requires silencing that inner chatter. It also requires surrendering to the present and the world around me; not trying to control it but surrendering control, for I am powerless to control that reality. It is happening but it is not happening to me. I am merely a witness to what is happening. It was all set in motion long ago and is playing out in front of me.
It is my ego that gives me the false sense that somehow I can control the events unfolding in front of me. I merely have my part to play. I am nowhere near as powerful as my ego would lead me to believe. I cannot take myself so seriously as to think that I am in control. It takes such a burden off my shoulders when I realize and admit that I am not in control, that there is a power greater than I that is. I have a hard time with that.
What I know that I can act on, I know in my heart, not my brain, exhausted with the baloney my ego peddles. The disconnect this requires only happens when my mind is cleared of the relentless babble from my ego. In that separation there is tranquility, something beyond peace. A current Gatha that I use often during the day is “Let go, Let God”. I think it has its origin in recovery literature but works well as a Buddhist Gatha. Letting Go – Being Present – Surrendering control to a higher power helps make me witness my life without feeling that it is happening to me personally. It takes the personal “victim” aspect out of my reality.
This does not mean that I am not responsible for my conduct. I am responsible for my conduct in the present. There is nothing I can do about the past and so I have to “Let [it] go”. Yes, something that happens in the present may have its seeds in my personal past but the seeds and how they grow are not within my present control. So, I have to “Let It Be.”
This is the opinion of Peter Donohue, who has been involved in the arts in Central Minnesota for more than 35 years. His column is published one Sunday a month.
This article originally appeared on St. Cloud Times: Learning to let go