Sunday, October 25, 2015

Aspiration

I read an interesting article in the New York Times the other day, titled Can We End The Meditation Madness?. What the author objects to is that some people attribute to meditation things it cannot deliver and load it up with expectations of outcomes, while pushing others to join in the crusade. This can be a serious disservice to both meditation and the practitioner. I couldn't agree more.

On the other hand, it certainly isn't up to me or anyone else how one chooses to use meditation. It might even be useful, I suppose, in becoming a better thief or murderer. Meditation is a tool. I can use a crowbar to help build a house, to break into a house or to kill the householder. It is not the crowbar's fault if I choose to use it unskillfully.

This gets to the heart of something that is integral to Buddhist practice, but easily misunderstood: the characteristic of aspiration. This article addresses the difference skillfully. Aspiration, in the Buddhist sense (the translation of the Pali word sankappa), does not mean desiring, or focusing on a particular outcome. This last point is of great importance.

The problem with aspiring to an outcome in meditation is that we then feel we can determine whether or not our practice is successful or unsuccessful. We have criteria by which we can judge the experience. And, of course, this is fine if you choose to use this tool to do these things; reduce stress, for instance, or become more mindful. But one must realize that these are extremely short-term aspirations and have the potential to sell short the benefits of meditation. There is also a good chance that if the practice does not fulfill your expectations in a fairly brief period of time or (heaven forbid!) actually exacerbates the problem, you will abandon meditation altogether as a failure. To do so is to risk missing the view from the top of the mountain because there are a few rocks on the trail leading up to it.

Actually, it is quite common for meditation, when done correctly, to add to your stress and struggle. This happens because you are systematically removing the blinders from your experience. As such, it's not that difficulties increase but that your awareness of them is greater. Which is actually a gift, because it is only to those things of which you are aware you can apply the principles that will give you freedom from them.

Once again, though, I must say that it is not for anyone to determine how you use these tools. Jon Kabat-Zinn, for one, has made a career of teaching mindfulness-based stress reduction and has helped many people to come to a place of peace with what is going on in their lives. I wish him and his acolytes all the best, and hope for them that this leads to joy. But this would not be enough for me. I am in this thing for the long haul (in the Buddhist cosmology it may even take several lifetimes). That's OK with me. I understand that true stress reduction comes with the wisdom derived from long-term practice of these ways of being in the world. I know that peace of mind is not the outcome of 15 minutes on a cushion, but of a lifetime of practice and study and aspiration to becoming one among the many Bodhisattvas who seek enlightenment in the hope that we can bring joy and harmony to all sentient beings and the entire universe. I know, this seems like something beyond the possible, and so it is if thought of as something achievable by one person in a single lifetime, not to mention in just a few days, weeks, or months. But even to merely point our hearts and minds in that direction is to move toward peace and well-being for all. Surely, that is something worthy to which we can aspire.

No comments:

Post a Comment