I've recently taken up meditation ...

            I recently took up meditation.  Not with any particular group or teacher, just following the bits and pieces I have picked up along the way from my conversations with practitioners and from the reading I have done.  I did this because I felt helpless – every day, I was somehow unable to do what I planned on.  I would become distracted, turning on the Internet, scrolling through social media, following chains of interest and learning a lot – sometimes at random, sometimes by intention.  But I could not make myself do the things that I was intending to do – update my solar energy website, add people to my mailing list, and, most importantly, set up crowdfunding so I had some means of support.

            This seemed odd, as I had quit smoking pot about four months ago.  I thought, I could get so much more done if I wasn’t stoned.  This is probably true.  But I replaced one addiction for another, taking something that I did a lot already – net surfing – and turned it into a replacement source of the dopamine I would have got from the pot, one endless bit of novelty after another.

            And of course I’m able to find other sources of procrastination – if the Internet isn’t available, I can pick up another source of text to read.  I once heard the term “hyperlexia” – being addicted to reading.  I’ll pick up a book, or even better, a magazine or newspaper, the more random and inconsequential the better.  This can distract me for an hour or so, at which point I will have wasted enough time that I can safely hop in the shower, or take a hike, or start puttering around the house.

            Did I mention the puttering?  Productive procrastination means the most important thing, the thing that I am trying to force myself to do, doesn’t get done, but the second or third or tenth most important thing can get done as a means of avoiding the all important task of following my own intentions.  This is how I ever get anything done at all – I can really only procrastinate one thing at a time.  The house gets clean – that’s a sign that I’m procrastinating really effectively.  When I start exercising to avoid other activities, that’s a sign that I’m avoiding something really important – a Master’s thesis or business plan level of importance, or something that involves actually making money.  But really, I can procrastinate anything I set my mind to – an album I am trying to produce, an important call I need to make ... Anything, really as long as I have marked that as the most important thing.

            And here’s the creepy part … sometimes I catch a part of myself actually planning the procrastination.  The thoughts go something like this “When I’m done reading this online, I can get in the shower.  Then I can check the laundry and maybe wash a few dishes.  By then I’ll have lots to look at in my Facebook feed, and that should keep me busy until I give up what I was trying to do.”  So I catch myself, and try to fight it, but I end up following the nefarious plan of my inner procrastinator, who then taunts me: “See, you can’t fight it, you’ve been defeated again.”

            At night, when I’m laying awake in bed, then I beat myself up for distracting myself all day long.  I write notes to my daytime self “please, this is so important, this is what you need to do to survive” … and I make plans to shut off the Internet, schedules for my day, goals for something to get done before I start reading.  I realize, laying there in bed, that I need to start producing more, creating more of whatever it is that I want to accomplish.  But then, in the morning, I fall right back into the Internet.  Until today, of course, when I am writing this.  When I shut off the Wi-Fi and set the goal of writing a thousand words before turning it back on.  And I’m about two-thirds of the way there.

            So what is different today?  A week or so ago I took up meditation.  I had read, in some part of my reading, that meditation strengthens executive functions.  The way my brain works is sometimes labeled as Attention-Deficit Disorder, which is related to difficulties planning and executing my intentions, as I distract my way through the day.  Executive functions are the ability to “plan your work and work your plan”.  They are the way to create something better than short-term novelty seeking that can leave things undone; that can lead to poverty, dependence on others, and unfulfilled dreams.  Mindfulness meditation, observing thoughts as they arise, is like exercise for the executive functions, moderating the tendency for thoughts to jump around, coming back to the center again and again as the thoughts fly off in so many directions.  But meditation is doing so much more than this by making me so much more aware of how my thoughts create my life through my actions and reactions, attitudes and opinions, and most of all my relations with others.

            This strengthening of the awareness of my own thoughts gives me a chance to observe my inner procrastinator in action, to have a conversation with this part of myself.  It’s all about avoiding pain of some kind, the trauma that came from being teased for being smart or feminine as a child, office politics as an adult, having my work judged or criticized.  Sometimes the pain I am experiencing is environmental pain and fear – seeing first hand clear-cuts, mountaintop removal coalmines, and the effects of climate disruption.  In some ways my inner procrastinator is doing me good, getting me to stop doing things that are hurting me.  In other ways it is counterproductive, reacting to hurts that are deep in the past, that don’t have so much relevance to the present moment and the future I am working to create.

            The brain is a complex place, each part of it constantly in operation.  Functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) can show what parts of the brain are more active by taking a picture of the blood flow to different areas.  There are parts of the brain for movement, for memory, for vision and hearing, and for words.  There are parts of the brain that are connected to each of the various parts of the body, which are more or less active in various emotions.  Recently, maps of which emotions activate which parts of the body have emerged. 

            The human mind doesn’t end at the edge of the skull … the heart and the gut each have their own “brain” – the genitals, too, seem to have a mind of their own.  These groups of neurons correspond roughly to the four chakras of the most ancient forms of Tantric practice (the modern system of seven chakras is based on more recent refinements).  Saying “I have a gut feeling” or “I love you with all my heart” is actually true!  We think and emote with our whole bodies, with patterns of muscle contraction – which is why, if we make ourselves smile, we actually make ourselves happier.  This psychosomatic connection creates our facial expressions and body language that we share with other mammals.

            There is one part of each of our brains that distinguishes us from all other animals:  the verbal center.  This is the part of our brain that programs itself with language in childhood.  This brain area produces a constant stream of words, endlessly, as long as we are awake or dreaming.  Sometimes we speak these words, and sometimes they are our thoughts.  They are triggered by our senses, by our information processing, by memories in the mind and body, and by the words of others. When we read or listen to another speaking, the words of another become our thoughts.  Often, we are in the thrall of habits of thought … repeating sequences of words, self-talk positive or negative, memories good or bad.  Words affect other regions of the brain, triggering emotions and their muscular patterns within the body, and changing the actions of the heart-mind, the belly-mind, and the sex-mind.  Our thoughts might cause our hearts to race, our bellies to become indigested, or our genitals to fill with blood.  Our language and the meanings we associate with words, the concepts and ideas built from them that we learn through our different cultures gives us the filters through which we see the world, and what actions we think are right or even possible.

            The excited mind races from thought to thought, idea to idea.  The mind in love spins fantasies of being with the beloved.  The depressed mind imagines contrafactual scenarios of what might have been and how perhaps the now would be better if the past were different.  The angry mind dredges up memories of past wrongs and generates scenarios of revenge.  Much of the thinking that goes on in the world is really a process of avoiding some other painful thought, one that might trigger the memory of a loss or a feeling of one’s own inadequacy.  This is why we distract ourselves with television, reading, drugs, and the Internet.

            Recently, there has been a tremendous amount of study done on the brain, how its neurons are connected.  Just as the genome is the sum total of genes in our DNA sequence, the “connectome” describes all the different connections between neurons in the brain (and, by extension, the larger body-mind).  Analysis of the connectome identified a heretofore unknown brain function – about ten thousand neurons, a tiny fraction of the brain’s billions, with dendrites that penetrate into every part of the brain.  Scientists have dubbed this system the “global workspace”.  It appears to determine to what function of the brain we are paying attention – what we are seeing or hearing, what emotion we are experiencing, our inner thoughts …  Needless to say, the global workspace plays a big role in executive functioning.

            We can each ask ourselves “who am I?”  Am I the endless stream of thoughts, am I the emotions that wash over my body, or am I the global workspace, the part of my mind that exercises what might arguably be considered free will.  Mindfulness meditation is a workout for the global workspace, constantly noticing thoughts but allowing them to pass without effect.  Mantra meditation gives the verbal mind a sequence of syllables to repeat, discouraging the wandering of thoughts.  The “inner smile” meditation, where the meditator smiles intentionally at every part of his or her body, creates a positive psychosomatic feedback loop.  Each of these techniques, ultimately, is aimed at preventing the thoughts from triggering the emotions, and allowing the body-mind to relax into a neutral state.

            Meditation can slow the heart rate and the brain waves and relax the muscles.  It does even more than that!  It turns out our thoughts influence the expression of genes in our cells.  Parts of our DNA can be turned “on” or “off” by the addition or deletion of chemical markers, and these changes can sometimes be passed on to our children.  Many of these changes affect our immune systems.  The study of this process is called epigenetics.  Hormone levels, diet, stress, drugs, and environmental toxins can all affect our epigenetics, and it turns out that eight hours of mindfulness meditation can make a measurable change in gene expression.  The process by which our thoughts can affect our very genes has the wonderfully long name “psychoneuroepigenetics”.  Our thoughts can change us.

            What opened for me the peace of mind that allowed me to meditate was forgiveness … this was both the initial stage of my practice and an ongoing process.  First, I had to learn that forgiveness is first and foremost a healing process for the forgiver.  The person being forgiven can benefit from the process, but he or she doesn’t even need to know about it for the forgiver to benefit.  Forgiveness means letting go of the repetitive thought pattern and emotional imprint that is triggered by the memory of a perceived wrong.  Forgiveness is never really completed; it continues each time the pattern arises.

            No one can go through life without being hurt.  In our families, in our love relationships, in business, and even by random people we meet on the street.  We can take on angry thought patterns when we see or hear about another person being hurt, some kind of injustice in the world, or the pain of Mother Earth in the current environmental crisis.  It’s natural to feel angry towards the person we blame for the hurt!  This anger can become a body memory and emerge again and again, triggering angry thoughts, stress, and tension.  Holding a grudge, according to the 12-step tradition, is like taking poison and expecting the other person to die.

            I have felt pain from hurts within my family, from people who I’ve felt haven’t conducted business with me fairly, and from seeing an entire mountain taken away for a coal mine.  I use three main practices in seeking forgiveness within myself.

            The first practice I use is the Lord’s Prayer – “forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us”.  I said the prayer and repeat this single line, like a mantra.  Christian thought sees a single act of sacrifice, long ago, as opening the door to infinite forgiveness.  Because I’m not sure about the nature of God (who truly can be?), I simply envision the source of infinite forgiveness as light, whether within God, or Mother Earth, or within my own consciousness it doesn’t matter.  Each bit of anger I was holding in my heart seems like a log I’m throwing in the fire, making the light brighter and brighter as it takes my anger away.  I was surprised how much space I perceived opened up in my heart!  It’s been necessary for me to repeat this from time to time, as the same anger can sometimes re-emerge. 

            The second practice of forgiveness is the process of recapitulation, as adapted from the Huichol people of Mexico.  (I have never taken Peyote, and perform this practice sober.)  The practice revolves around the idea that when we engage in anger with someone, we take on a part of them, and they take on a part of us.  In recapitulation, I go back in my mind to the experience that brought on anger, and with each breath out give back the part of the other that I see myself holding on to, and thank that person for what they have taught me.  With each breath in, I return to myself that part of me that I have given them, again with thanks.  With this I can reduce the emotional charge associated with the angry thoughts, and again need to repeat from time to time as anger resurfaces.

            The third practice of forgiveness is cultivating a state of equanimity, having an even mind.  This is really much of goes on in mindfulness meditation – noticing thoughts and letting them pass by without affecting my emotions.  This is greatly aided by the practice of looking at things from different perspectives.  One time when meditating I was confronted with the image of mountaintop removal in West Virginia – a strong gut feeling of revulsion thinking of a beautiful mountain that had been, and the coalmine it had been replaced with.  This was also associated with a feeling of helplessness, that this practice continues and I have limited influence to slow or stop it.  I chose to look at this from different perspectives, from the point of view of the coal miner, who is seeing it as a proud accomplishment.  I see it from the point of view of great lengths of time.  In the great depths of time, all is temporary, even the Earth, and in the vastness of space it is tiny, as Carl Sagan put it, “a pale blue dot”. Buddhists consider equanimity one of the four immeasurables, along with loving-kindness, compassion, and empathic joy.  Equanimity is "not to distinguish between friend, enemy or stranger, but regard every sentient being as equal.”

            Various interesting phenomena have emerged during my meditations – once I felt surrounded by white light, a sea of peace.  Other times I feel what I understand as the awakening of the Kundalini – a sense of energy rising up my spine.  I have learned some Taoist Chi Kung practice, and so I meditate with my tongue on the roof of my mouth, and instead of letting the energy shoot up through the top of my head, I direct the energy back down to the lower part of my belly, the place called the “Hara”.  I was a bit worried when the Kundalini started … I thought “Can’t this be dangerous?  Isn’t this why people work with a guru?”  Just as this thought came, a guru popped right into my head!  Was this a real guru somehow communicating with me, or was he an aspect of my inner self?  “The Kundalini is just another phenomenon, it is not the point of the meditation,” he said in his lilting Indian accent.  “Like your thoughts, observe it and let it pass.”

            So meditation has really powered up my executive functions, and I see that I have been able to better control my net surfing, exercise daily, and write a thousand words each day.  But it is doing more than that, as the sense of equanimity carries over to my daily life.  For not only is meditation giving me the tools to do what I choose to do, it is giving me the power to make better choices.  The path I choose can be one of right livelihood, sustaining myself while working to make the world a better place.   These four immeasurables are a great guide for this – and I must ask myself, now, how can I best engage with the world loving-kindness, compassion, empathic joy, and equanimity?  As I continue to grow in this practice, I will better be able to answer these questions for myself.