I’ve meditated every day for about 55 years. I may have missed a few days over that long span of time, but it’s been rare. But how I meditate has changed quite a bit.
For the 35 years I was a member of an India-based religious organization headed up by a guru (Radha Soami Satsang Beas), I meditated for 1 1/2 to 2 1/2 hours a day with eyes closed. The goal of that form of meditation was to “go within.” Meaning, to leave the world behind and elevate one’s consciousness to higher supernatural planes of reality by concentrating at the “eye center” located between and behind the physical eyes.
That was the goal, at least. Problem was, I never made the journey to those higher planes, and no one I knew ever did so either. As I was fond of saying in the talks, satsangs, I gave to fellow members of RSSB, “The easiest of the RSSB vows to keep is the one about not divulging inner mystical experiences, because no one is having any.”
The remark would usually be met with nervous laughter, the type where people recognize that what you’re saying is true, but it’s kind of an unwelcome truth.
Now I meditate in the morning for a much shorter period, generally 15-20 minutes. And I usually focus on my breath, which obviously is a bodily function, not within my cranium. Of course, in one sense everything we experience is “within,” since consciousness and its contents — assuming there’s a difference between them — resides within the brain.
But until recently I was still doing the eyes closed thing. This just felt natural to me, since I’d been meditating that way for so long. A few days ago, though, Zen Master Henry Shukman started a new series of guided meditations on his “The Way” app that I have on my iPhone. This series involved keeping eyes open, seemingly in preparation for instruction in the Zen practice of Shikantaza, which sounds to me a lot like mindfulness.
I recall Shukman saying that Shikantaza is basically open awareness, but I could be wrong about this. Regardless, being aware of everything inside and outside of us, or as much of that everything as possible, means that our eyes have to be open, along with our ears and other senses.
At first it felt strange to be meditating with my eyes open. It seemed like I was just sitting in my chair, eyes slightly lowered, pretty much doing what I do in the rest of my life when I’m just sitting — not reading, talking, looking at my computer, or whatever. And that was one of Shukman’s points. He said that we meditate with eyes open because our eyes are open for most of the rest of the day.
So practicing mindfulness in an open-eyed period of meditation helps us with being more mindful in the remainder of our day.
Here’s something interesting that I’ve experienced in my open-eyed guided meditations with Shukman. When my eyes are open, I have fewer distracting thoughts. It’s as if my attention is captured by the world outside of me, so there’s less room for my inner world to conjure up the usual “monkey mind” thinking that jumps from branch to branch of my mental tree.
When I experimented with closing my eyes, despite Shukman’s request that I keep them open, almost instantly I noticed thoughts bubbling up that had nothing to do with the meditation. It felt like my attention abhorred a vacuum. So when the outside world disappeared from my vision, thoughts popped up to fill that void.
Here’s some of what Sabina Brennan says about mindfulness in her book, The Neuroscience of Manifesting, which I wrote about recently.
So what does mindfulness really mean in practical terms? It’s about lucidly observing and accepting what’s happening right now, without judgement or bias. It’s about bravely facing reality, no sugarcoating or exaggeration. Why? Because seeing things as they are — no more, no less — is the key to addressing our current situation in the most compassionate, and thus the most effective, way.
…Mindfulness shifts our self-awareness. Rather than getting lost in a whirlpool of self-focused thoughts, mindfulness encourages us to tune in to our bodies, to feel more connected with our physical presence. It’s like shifting from a 2D image of yourself to a more immersive, 3D perception. You become more in sync with the ‘now’ and the physical reality of being you.
Since Shukman suggests looking slightly downward in open-eyed meditation, when I’m sitting in my chair I’m seeing my hands clasped together in my lap. Following my breathing, looking at my hands — fewer irrelevant thoughts. What my body is doing captures my attention. And that feels good. I won’t always meditate with eyes open. But now I better realize the benefit of doing this.
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On the Chan retreats l used to attend, it was the norm to keep eyes open. I think in order to be aware of everything that the mind and bodily senses observed.
One may notice, that when out walking, we more often than not look at the ground absorbed in the thought processes. While looking and listening to what’s around, one is more tuned to the here and now.
Very cool, your endless appetite for experimentation!
Zazen is one practice that I’ve always been curious about, and wanted to maybe try out myself one day. Have heard about this open eyed and fully open ended practice, including here in your blog, and elsewhere as well. Haven’t ever tried it out myself. One day, maybe.
Looked up shikantaza, that you discussed, and linked to. While the open-eyed sitting thing is different than anything I’ve encountered first-hand, but the basic technique of shikantaza does not seem dissimilar to what is taught in Theravada. According to the Wiki you linked to, it isn’t actually open ended, not quite: instead, it is about awareness of one’s thoughts. That isn’t dissimilar to Theravada: Theravada has a host of tools that one might use to anchor one’s attention: including, famously, breath; but also lots other stuff, including bodily sensations, and also one’s thoughts.
So yeah, the open eyes apart, it seems no different. And ditto the walking mediation that shikantaza is apparently coupled up with: that — as described in the Wiki linked to within the Wiki of shikantaza — also is part of Theravada repertoire, like exactly.
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So, is this shikantaza, as described, mainstream zazen? If so, then it does not seem any different than (one subset of) Vipassana, at all. …Or are there other, more open-ended forms of zazen, than the shikantaza discussed here?
Also: Interesting that shikantaza apparently — according to the wiki — is recommended only for short half-hour spells, not longer. Meditation retreats I’ve been to are way more intensive, taking up literally most hours of the day. …Wonder what zazen/shikantaza retreats are like? Are they many sets of short half-hour sessions, with gaps in between for Walking meditation? Or how does that work?
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In any case: if you mean to try this out for a while, Brian, then it might be interesting if, after some days or weeks, you’d share your first-hand notes about how it all works out, longer term. Vis-a-vis your mantra-and-shabda mediation, and vis-a-vis your breath meditation.
(Interesting, your observation basis short-run observance, that the monkey mind is less in evidence with eyes open. I’ve done the walking thing, with focus on bodily sensations and thoughts [as well as ‘everywhere’, because no matter how sedately, but you’re walking after all]: but can’t say I could discern any difference. If anything, I’ve found sitting more effective. On the other hand, comparing sitting with walking is hardly apples to apples.)
I reckon that all mindfulness types of meditation originally aimed to practice awareness of the present moment, but perhaps it’s easy to slip into a sort of meditational type of almost unconsciousness.
Students of meditation nearly always begin with high expectations but later (if lucky) begin to realize that meditation spills over into everyday life becoming an awareness of ‘just this’ present moment.
But as programmed human beings it is hard to not to crave something more than present moment reality.
A.R. Yes, the Chan (Zen) retreats l used to attend have half-hour sitting sessions (with eyes open) a work period or two along with a rest where one could go for a walk, also a morning talk, perhaps an interview and some group reading and of course the usual meal breaks.
All between 5.00 am til 10pm.
@ Ron E.
Curiosity makes me ask:
* Why do you use the Chinese name “chan” instead of the more common “zen”?
* In wat tradition did you or do you, your practice?
It
would help better understand your contributions.
Hi um. Very briefly, Chan is the Chinese translation of the Sanskrit dyhana – meaning meditation. When Chan Buddhism entered Japan centuries later the word Chan was translated as Zen – in Korea it became Son.
I have attended Western Chan retreats in the past but no longer as I’m past the age for long sessions of sitting and travelling. The Western Chan practice suited me as it was just practice with no mystical or non-natural connotations.
As such, it is very similar to Zen – which is nowadays almost a household word and covers a multitude of meanings and mis-interpretations.
@ Ron E.
Tank You
Thanks, Ron, for that clarification/ confirmation! About the multiple half-hour sets, I mean to say.
And walking mediation per se wasn’t a structured part of the process there, then. (Although, as you say, people were free to take walks during the rest periods, sure.)
…Like Theravada retreats, do these Chan/Zen retreats also insist on the complete-silence-no-books-or-papers-even thing?
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“perhaps it’s easy to slip into a sort of meditational type of almost unconsciousness”
I don’t know how Zen treats this (Zen is part of Mahayana, and I’m not sure they follow the two-legged structure that Theravada follows): but in Theravada, meditation is clearly demarcated into two kinds of practices: those that make for absorption/shamata; and those that make for insight/awareness/vipassana. They hold that either in isolation is …lopsided, unstable; that both together make for …balance. Most Indic-origin practices then, and indeed now — and including Christian mystical practices, which some claim are originated from there, but regardless of their provenance — are geared towards that “almost unconsciousness” of shamata. While Zen-ic shikantaza, as far as I can see, is a practice geared towards insight/ awareness.
Of course, that Theravada aims for this balance, does not necessarily mean Zen would as well, or even that that’s necessary for balance, as Theravada claims. Still: Having been associated first-hand with Zen, are you aware of any shamata/absorption practices in there, along with the awareness thing, the direct-mindfulness-awareness thing?
A.R.Yes, the Western Chan retreats I attended were silent retreats including no reading. It was insight/awareness practice. Either through Koan or silent illumination which involved just sitting with joiceless attention.
Correction – choiceless not joiceles.
My takeaway from this meditation enquiry, whether eyes shut or open or whatever is the order of the day, is that there is nothing to search for as we are already that which we believe we are searching for.
This is the annoying (so to speak) of the ultimate insight of Zen, Chan and generally the non- duality brigade.
Right. And the complete silence, within and without, while it can be very unsettling at first, but afterwards, it gets super comfortable, super cool, isn’t it.
As for already being what we’re searching for, how Advaita answers that is: Yes, we are already what we’re looking for, but we don’t in the normal course realize it. To realize it, is what we’re after, is what’s the point of seeking. (Don’t know if Zen also falls back on that answer. Maybe they do.)
Not suggesting they’re right in saying that! But that answer, it’s rather clever. It does make sense, actually — if you don’t think too hard about it, beyond the point when the fallaciousness of that answer becomes clear.
At some point it doesn’t matter whether your eyes are open or closed. What you are attending to matters.
When you first close your eyes and attempt to sit in a quiet place, then the internal stimuli become hightened, hence the necessity for a tool to help balance all that. Ignoring all that is ignoring all that stands between you and your own center. That’s where repetition comes in.
Where are our thoughts? If you can observe them without being distracted, that’s great however you get there. Having nothing to focus on is fine if you then can choose what to focus on and stay with that. Choose a worthy subject and enjoy the process.
The mind is a machine, a sponge. Put it in clean dry place to air out, then give it something nourishing to focus on and it will behave and help.
Being distracted and wandering out is not the same thing. That’s a form of unconsciousness. The idea of Mindfulness, meditation and prayer is to become more awake and aware, to raise consciousness, not to let it scatter, like a car sliding off the road without a driver. That’s been going on long enough.