Why I Make Time To Sit
Reflections on Maintaining a Daily Practice
by Viral (April 22, 2010)
Sometimes we do things without defining duration. When we become friends with someone, we don’t set aside a certain number of years for the friendship, or even make a determination to have it be life-long. In that way, seven and a half years ago, I started meditating two hours a day. I had been meditating regularly for over five years prior to that, but not with the explicit discipline of doing at least two hours every day. I hadn’t made that commitment before, because in part, it seemed a bit contrived to measure with time something that was actually about transcending time. But at some point, I realized that it served practical purposes.
Looking within is a major pillar in my life, and if I wasn’t setting aside time to focus solely on that, that meant I was prioritizing other things, and did I really want to do that? The answer that came up for me was invariably, no, and so this became a good litmus test for how my intentions were manifesting in actuality. The two hours, in some sense is arbitrary, but that number pops up in numerous places, and within the Vipassana context, I’ve heard it said that sitting every twelve hours or so allows a meditator to erase any major impressions generated in that period, before they settle into a more unconscious level of the mind. It’s all really a personal equation, and each one has to conduct personal experiments in truth at a chosen pace. The time isn’t easy to make: the analytical mind can find it hard initially to make such a large commitment to something whose value comes in relatively invisible and subtle ways.
The larger point, in my view, is to have a touch-point to our values – something that reminds us about what we feel is the essence of our be-ing, and this reconnection happens much more readily when the mind is calm, focused, and centered, and the core is given the space to arise. On the flip side, sometimes this space allows us to let go of what we have repetitively-but-blindly been affirming: our plans, vision, ideas, or views, which may need to dynamically adapt to changing realities.
The real magic lies at the points of integration: integrating between formally sitting in silence with closed eyes, and engaging full-force with the world; integrating between working on subtlety and depth, versus working with breadth on multiple fronts; and integrating between reducing accumulated impressions, and managing the creation of new impressions. And in fact, the two ends of the spectrum strengthen each other. The more integrity we bring to turning inward, the more power we can access in engaging outwardly; the more authenticity we bring in meeting the world, the more efficiently we can still our minds and generate insight into the nature of things. Eventually the lines begin to blur. It becomes increasingly unimportant whether we are sitting still or engaged externally – what matters is the presence we bring.
Ultimately, the real benefit lies in the here and now, in the moments we make real and sincere efforts, though there are downstream benefits, too. Maintaining a regular practice certainly gives major momentum in facing demanding life-situations, and even in purifying at deeper levels within longer retreats. Similarly, Vipassana is fundamentally about cause and effect, and insight occurs instantaneously. But sometimes, in the midst of a plethora of inputs and outputs we encounter in daily life, the learning doesn’t register. I’ve noticed so many times that reflections occur within the space of meditation, not as a consciously driven process, but one that occurs nonetheless. It’s almost as if the effect of a certain past cause – a decision, an interaction, an experience – is actually felt only when there is a certain threshold of objective observation (without this threshold, they just get stored up, only to arise later). Tendencies are often persistent, and the same lessons need to be relearned; I can’t count the number of thank you’s and sorry’s that I’ve been fortunate to retroactively come to as a result of having the space to see things more clearly in daily meditation.
I remember something my brother told me once: even emails he writes to people are qualitatively different when he has meditated earlier in the day, as opposed to otherwise. It actually points to fully leveraging whatever capacity we natively have for patience and compassion: the more clear and centered we keep our minds, the more space we have to give to others, and subsequently, the more in-depth our interactions, and more considered our decisions. But it’s not a magic pill – it’s just as easy to not be present or to be seeking something when we meditate, as it is at other times. The value comes only when we come to the inner realms with a sense of sincerity and openness. Because sitting is a reduction in inputs, the tendency is to conceptualize it as a closing down, when in reality, the idea is to increasingly open up to our own experience, to our own intuition, and to our own wisdom.
Of course it takes discipline. There are certainly days when I am super sleepy, and for whatever reason, I’ve missed sitting in the morning, and find myself in a situation where it’s 3 in the morning, and I have yet to sit two hours. Sleeping at 5am is not fun, but once you start making exceptions, it’s a slippery slope. Exceptions, of course, may need to be made, but from a place of balance, not from one of weakness. Besides, what is one uncomfortable hour when you think of it in light of a time when you will really be in a bind? How do I want to be when difficulty arises? These can be opportunities to consciously take minor challenges on, particularly when you are in a position of strength, to learn something from them, and even discover new boundaries: even sleepiness comes and goes; the hardest part is to get yourself on the cushion – often, things flow on smoothly from there. In my experience I’ve found that, while I might regret not having sat, I’ve never regretted deciding to meditate.
Whatever one does commit to such a process doesn’t go to waste, in any moment. I realized for myself at some point that I just have to work with the reality at that instant. There is a progression of states, but what’s most important is to make an effort to work from wherever you are at that instant: in some situations, the effort will be to just do damage-control and minimize the reaction that comes up; in some cases, the effort is to have no reaction; sometimes, you can generate enough presence to actively purify a tendency; and there are even times when one has enough purity to develop an explicitly positive response of compassion and good-will. No matter where on the spectrum, the effort to step it up helps, but it needs to be a balanced effort. So, on the one hand, we try to cultivate determined effort, and on the other hand, a sense of abiding in a state of calm awakeness. My own tendency is to make effort with a sense of grit, but over the years, I’ve found a more balanced way to make effort – without as much tension, or as a means to some end.
In the outside world, we are so used to doing cost-benefit analyses – what do I get out of it, and what will give me the most bang for my buck? In meditation, we do the opposite, practicing that is the essence of my daily practice: to let go of the seeking mind, the one that promises some kind of attainment, progression, or even a sense of peace and comfort – just remaining awake to the unfolding reality, and content with it the way it is.
