Thoughts!

What is a thought, —not the content but the very nature of thought itself?  Thoughts and emotions, those invasive mental activities that condition our minds, our bodies, and our lives. Few people really explore the question. What is this phenomenon that occurs so many times a day, to which we pay so little attention?

Not being aware of the thoughts that arise in our mind, nor of the very nature of thought itself, allows thoughts to then dominate our lives. Telling us to do this, say that, go here, go there, thoughts often drive us like we’re their servants. We become slaves of preconditioned the fear of being judged.

Just as there was no all-powerful wizard behind the curtain in The Wizard of Oz, the only power our thoughts have is the power we give to them. All thoughts and feelings come and go. We can learn to be mindful of them and not be carried away by the wanderings of our mind. With mindfulness, we can exercise wise discrimination: “Yes, I will act on this one; no, I’ll let that one go.”

We experience such a wide range of emotions, sometimes within a short period of time: anger, excitement, sadness, grief, love, joy, compassion, jealousy, delight, interest, and boredom. There are beautiful emotions and difficult ones—and for the most part, we are caught up in their intensity and the stories that give rise to them.

We easily become lost in our own melodramas. It’s enlightening to drop down a level and look at the energy of the emotion itself. What is sadness? What is anger? What is shame and guilt? Seeing more deeply requires looking not only at the emotion’s “story,” but also at how the emotion manifests itself in our minds and expressed in our bodies. It means taking an active interest in discovering the very nature of emotion in your therapy.

The Practice of Letting Go

When you meditate, keep bringing your attention back to what is happening in the moment: the breath, a feeling in the body, a thought, an emotion, or even awareness itself. As we become more mindful and accepting of what’s going on, we find—both in meditation and in our lives—that we are less controlled by the forces of denial or addiction, two forces that drive much of life. In the meditative process we are more willing to see whatever is there, to be with it but not be caught by it. That is we are learning to let go.

Another quality that develops in meditation is a sense of humor about our minds, our lives, and our human predicament. Humor is essential on the spiritual path. If you do not have a sense of humor now, try to meditate for a while and it will come, because it’s difficult to watch the mind steadily and systematically without learning to smile.

Through the practice of meditation we begin to see the full range of the mind’s activities, old unhealthy patterns as well as wholesome thoughts and feelings. We learn to be with the whole passing show. As we become more accepting, certain lightness develops about it all. Sometimes a sigh takes place and the energy shifts. And the lighter and more accepting we become with ourselves, the lighter and more accepting we are with others. We’re not so prone to judge the minds of others, once we have carefully seen our own. The poet, W.H. Auden, says it well: “Love your crooked neighbor with all your crooked heart.” Spacious acceptance doesn’t mean that we act on everything equally. Awareness gives us the option of choosing wisely: we can choose which patterns should be developed and cultivated, and which should be abandoned.

Just as the focused lens of a microscope enables us to see hidden levels of reality, so too a concentrated mind opens us to deeper levels of experience and more subtle movements of thought and emotion. Without this power of concentration, we stay on the surface of things. If we are committed to deepening our understanding, we need to practice mindfulness and gradually strengthen concentration.

In our busy lives in this complex and often confusing world, what practical steps can we take to train our minds?

The first step is to establish a regular, daily meditation/yoga practice. This takes discipline. It’s not always easy to set aside time each day for meditation; so many other things call to us. But as with any training, if we practice regularly we begin to enjoy the fruits. Of course, not every sitting will be concentrated. Sometimes we will feel bored or restless. These are the inevitable ups and downs of practice. It’s the commitment and regularity of practice that is important, not how any one sitting feels.

The training in meditation will only happen through your own effort. No one can do it for you. There are many techniques and traditions, and you can find the one most suitable for you. But regularity of practice is what creates a transformation. Consistency and predictability makes us feel safe and secure. If we do it, it begins to happen; if we don’t do it, we continue acting out the various patterns of our conditioning. The next step is to train us in staying mindful and aware of the body throughout the day. As we go through our daily activities, we frequently get lost in thoughts of past and future, not staying grounded in the awareness of our bodies. We tend to put too much pressure on ourselves and forget to appreciate the moment and deny our limitations.

A simple reminder that we’re lost in thought is the very common feeling of rushing. Rushing is a feeling of tumbling forward. Our minds run ahead of us, focusing on where we want to go, instead of settling into our bodies where we are and be present and mindful of the moment.

Learn to pay attention to this feeling of rushing—which does not particularly have to do with how fast we are going. We can feel rushed while moving slowly, and we can be moving quickly and still be settled in our bodies. Either way, we’re likely not present and you loose those moments. If you can, notice what thought or emotion has captured the attention. Then, just for a moment, stop and settle back into the body: feel the foot on the ground, feel the next step.

To develop deeper concentration and mindfulness, to be more present in our bodies, and to have a skillful relationship with thoughts and emotions, we need not only daily training, but also time for retreat. It’s very helpful, at times, to disengage from the busyness of our lives. Retreat time is not a luxury it’s a must. Retreat time doesn’t mean isolation and hiding from the world, instead it means a way in which to establish a balance between when we are engaged, active, and relating to the world and times when we turn inward to reevaluate our needs.

If we are genuinely and deeply committed to awakening, to freedom—to whatever words express the highest value you hold—time for you is an essential part of the path. You need to put the oxygen mask on yourself before you can care for others. It is part of learning to take care of yourself and love yourself and then express it to your surroundings to make it real otherwise you take the risk of feeling guilty.

As the great Sufi poet Rumi noted, “A little while alone in your room will prove more valuable than anything else that could ever be given you.”