Part 3: Passage
In meditation, thoughts pass through. Although some thoughts prevail for a while, nothing lasts for long. Things that form lose their force, vanishing into silence, maturing to nothingness. To get to the core of meditation, it is necessary to take time: sit, battle, chase, watch, plan, abort, breathe, wander off, let all be and go.
I try to see through the ends of activities of the things that rise. Wrapped in the immense solitude, they are swallowed into nothingness.
So I drift. Inevitably I lose myself in deep waves of thoughts as well as trifles. To get out of the swirl I reach out for my anchor, the one that is watching me drifting. I work hard to focus on that man that I am, that I am meditating through. This is the man I vaguely remember until I drift away.
Distancing reveals clearly what I am drifting away from. The one who drifts is the I that I think I am, but the man that is watching me is the one that I am not aware of as I am but have been looking for. Falling far off, I have a better view of I.
This is what I am attracted to about meditation: a mind-game, philosophical, therapeutic, mystical, yet the simplest language that all can understand. No words required.
Meditation for me is a work of deciphering the code: a silent, forceful way of waking up in the real self.
By the time I see two of my selves, the one who is doing the meditation and the one who is playing the actions in the meditation, I change gears. My efforts turn to effacing the borders that separate the two. Team play begins. My goal: to let the ball pass through. My method: by harmonizing forces. My path: walk the middle road.
“I”, the observer, then becomes “I”, the player.
“I”s leave. Play is.
No bumps on the right or left.