Last night, during my meditation, the question popped into my head “just what is meditation?” Of course anyone who has ever meditated regularly has found this to be a regular question.
Meditation is SOMETHING….. um, but nothing as well.
Meditation is objectivity… but what is objectivity? That word doesn’t live in the meditative space.
Meditation is the real world, and the real world is fiction
Meditation shows us a special, invisible world which exists everywhere in the physical and nonphysical world
Anyone who has ever meditated and felt the positive effects of it on their lives has also discovered that describing it to someone without sounding mumbo-jumbo-new-agey is an impossibility. Well, maybe in the context of it being a religious experience it may make sense… I wouldn’t know about that.
But most of us who experience meditation as a profound tool of survival simply keep it a private experience. I think that’s the basic Buddhist philosophy — work on yourself and your life above all else. Then let the world change through the osmosis of the aura your life creates.
Last night I gazed at the Buddha statues on my shelf in front of my meditation cushion. For the first time I understood that they symbolize not any special god or divine power, but an understanding of that special world of meditation. I felt a powerful drive to join a sangha, where I have other people around me who understand this unexplainable world of “nothingness and everythingness”, and “here but also there”, of “being and not being at the same time”.
But I’ve tried joining Sangha’s and churches in the past. It’s the plight of the true introvert that our personal space is huge, and other people can easily unintentionally overstep their boundaries just by being friendly. It causes me claustrophobia and never ends well — usually by my getting regressive episodes, feeling overcrowded, resenting people, and ending up in the hospital for various reasons. It’s happened over and over, and it’s just really bad losing my sense of personal space.
Today I googled online sanghas, thinking that might be the right answer. Then I thought about dharma people on forums, all being spiritual and having wonderful, deep insights, and feeling like I have nothing to contribute. I’m a mere human — pill-popping, stressed out, flawed in about every single way possible — I’m anything but that gentle person sitting on a cushion murmuring the answers to koans.
And so here I find myself, straddling here and there, unable to find a true home for myself in this world — searching, searching searching.