Contemplating Meditation

“To meditate is to make a complete break with how we “normally” operate, for it is a state free of all cares and concerns, in which there is no competition, no desire to possess or grasp at anything, no intense or anxious struggle, and no hunger to achieve: an ambitionless state where there is neither acceptance nor rejection, neither hope nor fear, a state in which we slowly begin to realize all those emotions and concepts that have imprisoned us into the space of natural simplicity” (59).

I find it ironic that, during possibly one of the most tumultuous weeks of my semester thus far, the chosen readings for this week were the practice of meditation. I believe it to be the lowest impact exercise of all. It requires nothing more than what we already have, yet in times of trouble, I find it suddenly hard to sit down with my breath for just five minutes, without feeling like the material world is jolting me towards the next task or possibly an unpleasant glimpse into the cringe of past actions. Please regard this quote above as a guiding quote for the rest of my writing.

I have been seriously practicing meditation during my sophomore year at Emory. I joined the Emory Buddhist club, began to meet every Thursday, and even went on a silent retreat with them. I quickly became enamored by the practice; I could sense that this self-actualizing approach was beautifully interlaced with simplicity and technicality. Its ambition is hidden in the details, or

possibly a lack thereof. I quickly realized that to have doesn’t mean you have it all; there is always more to learn about yourself and, better yet, the world around you. The only thing that is consistent in life is change, because some days even my breath will escape me; soon enough, it may escape us all.

Death, I think, can be closely related to meditation. Although you remain breathing, all of your other senses, like sight and touch, are being eliminated or at least limited. There is that sense of stillness in which you are detached from the physical environment and enter into the internal world, your (our) eternal worlds I suppose. When I am having a good day, I like to pretend the ground is gone and the mat is not under me, and I am nothing but a speck on this

wide universe. I feel weightless, for those moments even a bit aer my meditation. It's almost always when I leave those confines that I become weary, it feels like the world has confounded me.

I am forced to live in this system, which is not of my choosing. And yes, I accept that this is my life, but I need to acknowledge that not all of my suffering, at least in this world, is caused by me. I have never been one to be argumentative or antagonizing, although I do enjoy a great exercise of debate, I do not purposely look for an opportunity to be right. I would often say that I am not the biggest fan of competition; I do enjoy fulfilling my wants and accomplishing my goals,

I never aim to do that at the cost of others. There are things that surely I would genuinely enjoy having, but the thing that I deeply yearn for is an opportunity to help those who really need help, more specifically, attaining introspective skills.

Although I am 21 years old, much has happened in my life. So, I have come to understand my welcomed place of neutrality, which I feel most when I am in my solitude or beloved sangha. I do not like to fight, argue, compete, or even envy (although I understand that this is a natural human reaction). Yet the world seems like it feeds off of that sometimes, this can feel like it's crushing a part of me or spraying some type of pesticide into my soil, tainting its natural equilibrium. Almost forcing me to act outside of what I hold to be core parts of my personality. I would like to remain ambitionless and let the world flow through me like the wind on water, but sometimes this causes the currents to come in too strongly. That I am forced to fight back, run away, or freeze and face it head-on. Choosing which to do is just as exhausting as reacting to all

of these options. I know that if I am tired, surely others are too.

Part of me hopes that everyone will learn to lean into the hug the universe gives you when you stay still. To me, when I close my eyes, the world grows even larger, larger than life itself, and I hope to live in that world much more often and time continues to pass.