Everyday Mindfulness

I think that this article is worthy of debate, if we can get one going. It's by Matt, who posts here regularly

http://melbournemeditationcentre.com.au ... king-more/

I'm not sure what I think about it really. I really don't feel like I am suppressing thought when I meditate.

I notice the thought stream, and that very act seems to dissipate it. I really don't see how I could 'not notice' the fact that I am thinking.

What do you all think?

Thanks for sharing, Gareth!
And a big thank you to Matt for writing it!!

I totally see Matt's point (I think), and I agree with him. It's something that I've grown towards myself. I like to call it 'a lightness' (I think Andy mentions it a lot also). And I think it's very important.

I think it's very easy to become a bit compulsive about mindfulness. I know I was, and, by the questions people ask here, I know that a lot of other people go about it like that also.

My advice would be to: just naturally 'touch' 'things' with a 'light awareness'

But I can also imagine that things are experienced that way by a mindfulness trained brain (like Matt's or mine).

I can understand that the constantly refocusing on the breath for instance, is needed for beginners to change their perspective. And I think this shift in perspective is crucial!

Peter

Hi Gareth,

I didn't see this thread until your recent tweet about it. You make some interesting observations.

1. I really don't feel like I am suppressing thought when I meditate.

That's partly my point. Suppression can be deeply habitual and / or extremely subtle, which makes it hard to 'see'. I don't feel like I'm suppressing my thoughts either. However, the fact that my mind can become so quiet in meditation (whereas it is not usually quite so quiet outside meditation) suggests that thoughts may be being suppressed to some degree.

2. I notice the thought stream, and that very act seems to dissipate it.

Yes. Noticing the thought stream tends to have a suppressive effect. It may not feel like suppression. We may not even think it appropriate to call it suppression, but the fact is, thoughts are somehow suppressed. They dissipate, dissolve or disappear. This doesn't happen normally, for example, when we're not fully conscious of what we're thinking about.

I'm not saying that suppression is necessarily a bad thing. Just that it's happening. More importantly, it can be useful to meditate with the intention of letting thoughts go on, rather than trying to observe them. People often feel like there is something wrong with getting 'caught up' in thoughts. But when you meditate without such an aversion to getting caught up, thinking often becomes less of a problem. You can also begin to see your patterns of thinking in a more lifelike (less interrupted) way, and it's the understanding that stems from this intention — rather than the act of observing or witnessing per se, which leads to a more natural quietening of the mind.

3. I really don't see how I could 'not notice' the fact that I am thinking.

Can you be more or less aware of your thinking? Can you always say with confidence what you've been thinking about? Have you ever fallen into a reverie and 'woken up' some time later, or driven or walked somewhere and 'missed' part of the journey because you were thinking on 'automatic'? Aren't these all instances in which we don't notice (fully) our thinking?

I'd be interested to hear your responses (and hope my response hasn't sounded too didactic).

I agree with Peter's comment about the possibility of approaching throughs (all of our experience really) with a very light touch.

And I would argue that there is no need at all for beginners to return their attention to the breath. In fact, I would say that the instruction to return to an "anchor" can potentially cause a lot of struggle and difficulty (depending on the student). My approach has been to invite students to focus on simple sensory experiences (breath, body, sound, etc.) but to stress that this is a choice they can make, rather than the only approved or appropriate response to thinking (or any other kind of so-called distraction).

I used to teach a more traditional 'anchoring' approach, but have found that my students have better results and far less struggle when they use the breath as a rudder, rather than an anchor. That is, they return to the breath only in those circumstances where their attention is drawn naturally there, or when they feel the need temporarily escape some discomfort (either mental, emotional or physical).

Hi Matt,

Don't worry. Your reply didn't seem didactic at all. I'll confess: I had to go away and look up what that word meant. Thank you. It's always good to expand the vocabulary.

I take your point on the subtlety of thought suppression; there is probably much of it going on that I don't even realise. I love how six years on I am still learning lessons about myself and the way that my mind works.

You say the following:

More importantly, it can be useful to meditate with the intention of letting thoughts go on,

I really have no idea how I would do that. I sit, I notice a thought, and the thought dissolves. How can my intention stop me noticing the thought, allowing the stream to continue?

It's not that I don't get caught in reverie sometimes - not at all. Even in meditation, I will sometimes notice my thinking and think, 'whoa I was gone for a long time there!'. But at that point, I have noticed the stream, and I can't get it back; not in the same way at least.

I sometimes notice the same 'quietness' of mind, but it usually tends to be when I have been meditating for at least twenty minutes or so.

I like the idea of using the breath as a rudder rather than an anchor. It promotes the 'lightness' that Peter talks about, which I do think is very important in this practice.

How can my intention stop me noticing the thought, allowing the stream to continue?

This is a great question. I'm not sure I can answer it.

My sense of it is that your intentions affect the outcome of your meditation. They affect what you do and what you experience, sometimes in surprising and mysterious ways. The key mechanism with intention is that it seems to act as a reminder. If your intention is to stay focused, some part of your brain will remind you to return to whatever it is you planned on focussing upon. If your intention is to let thoughts go on those reminders to refocus might not come along so often, or you might choose not to listen to those reminders so diligently. This happens at a largely unconscious level.

Perhaps intention could be considered a way to program or reprogram the brain, or maybe just to prime it to notice certain things or behave in certain ways. For example, if I ask you to look around the room and to notice anything red, then this intention affects your experience. You probably won't notice blue or green things (at least not to the same degree).

Even in meditation, I will sometimes notice my thinking and think, 'whoa I was gone for a long time there!'. But at that point, I have noticed the stream, and I can't get it back; not in the same way at least.

Yes. I find that fascinating. We can be lost in thought, only dimly aware of where our attention is. Then at some point, we become less embedded in the thought stream. It's as if we pop up for air, and suddenly realise we've been thinking. It's impossible to get back to that previous moment, that one in which we were lost in thought. However, we can recall something of what was going on. We might have some sense of what we were thinking about, or whether the thoughts were stimulating some kind of anxiety or some kind of peaceful state of mind. Sometimes we have no idea what we were thinking about, but we can recall that we were thinking. In other words, we can recall the mental process, but not the content of our mind. It's this recollection that I find useful. It lets us get a sense of what our minds are up to when we're not fully aware or fully present (which is probably much of the time, even in meditation).

It's like the physicists tell us. You can't observe anything without changing it. So how can you know reality, even your own reality, if it mysteriously changes when you try to watch it? You can only know it imperfectly, though the lenses you've been given. But knowing something of how your mind works, even if that's an imperfect recollection, is better than not knowing it at all.

Most importantly, having a sense of what your mind does when you're 'away' (in some kind of reverie) seems to enhance your awareness. It's a different way of developing mindfulness (rather than trying to do it in real time: the so-called 'present' moment).

The crucial point is that this kind of awareness develops best when you're not trying to be aware all the time! It's also useful to spend a little time after a meditation 'sit' writing down what you can remember. Without this step, much of your experience will be lost. You won't be able to remember or retrieve it (and use it to develop more refined intentions) unless you take some time to recall it while it's fresh. In this way, the mind in meditation is very similar to the mind when it's dreaming. Dreams too, are very hard to recall (unless you consciously try to remember them soon after).

Very impressive how you analyze your experiences and put them to words, Matt. I think it's spot on!
Peter

'Very impressive how you analyze your experiences and put them to words, Matt. I think it's spot on!'

Couldn't agree more!

Thanks guys. It's just my inner meditation nerd at work!

I love "owning our inner meditation nerd"! I've posted all the links on our Facebook page, as I imagine a lot of other people who have been meditating for a while will respond to these ideas. I feel very sad when people say that they feel they've 'failed' a meditation because their minds were wandering all the time and they never even counted to 10 once. It IS still a meditation, and I agree with Matt that it can still be surprisingly relaxing and refreshing. It is useful to become more aware, as Matt says above, it lets us get a sense of what our minds are up to when we're not fully aware or fully present (which is probably much of the time, even in meditation). Great piece Matt, thank you and for your detailed responses above.

Thanks Barb.

My intention with most of the articles I write — and much of my teaching in general — is to address those pernicious myths (about meditation and mindfulness) that make many people feel like they can't do it or are bad at it. I appreciate your support in helping to get the message out.