By Adam
For a long time, I approached my meditation practice like doing laundry. I thought of my mind as a set of clothes that I wore every day. By the end of the week, those clothes would inevitably get dirty from work, stress, and the friction of daily life. So, I would come to Hakone Zendo on Sunday, meditate, and “clean” my mind. By Monday morning, I was wearing a fresh, clean mindset—only for it to proceed to get dirty all over again.
I approached meditation this way for a long time, but something never felt quite right. By the middle of the week, I often felt like work was designed to “un-meditate” me. It seemed to easily erase all the mindfulness I had worked so hard to build.
Recently, I started a new role at my job. While it is better in many ways, the hours are drastically longer—often twelve to fifteen hours a day, sometimes bleeding right through the weekend. By Monday afternoon, any calmness I had generated on Sunday was completely gone. This frustration forced me to confront a lingering feeling: Am I doing this meditation thing correctly?
The Myth of the Clear Mind
Seeking wisdom, I came across the teachings of Gelong Thubten, a British-born Tibetan Buddhist monk. His explanation made perfect sense to my Western mind. He pointed out that the biggest misconception about meditation is the idea that you sit down to completely clear your mind.
This is a tragic misunderstanding. We often hear people say, “I’m not very good at meditation,” because they feel a deep sense of failure every time a distracting thought arises.
If the only goal was to experience an uninterrupted period of a totally clear, blank mind without a single distracting thought, you could just get blackout drunk and pass out on your couch. But wake up the next day and ask yourself how meditative you actually feel.
Meditation is not about erasing your thoughts. In fact, having distracting thoughts is exactly the point. When you meditate, you are practicing the act of gently—and I use that word very intentionally—gently bringing your mind back to your breath or your point of focus.
The better analogy is going to the gym. Every time you get distracted and bring your awareness back, you are doing a “rep” for your mindfulness. That repetition is what you take with you into your workday and the next chapters of your life.
Sitting with the Discomfort
Thubten also notes that meditation may not always be enjoyable. When we calm down and quiet the noise, the heavy things we usually push aside in order to function suddenly surface.
When we drop our defenses on the cushion, we might feel that tight-drum sensation in our stomach, or that choking feeling in our throat like we are about to cry. His advice is to use this as an opportunity. Put your awareness exactly on that physical sensation.
- Don’t do detective work.
- Don’t try to label it.
- Don’t search for the root cause.
Just be there and accept that this is how it is. This act of simply staying with the feeling is a profound measure of self-compassion. I have brought this into my own practice, and I am now grateful every time I get distracted or feel discomfort because that is the practice itself. Now, when a panicky feeling arises during my workday, I don’t rely on residual Sunday calmness. I can invoke my meditation in the moment—feeling the ground supporting me, feeling my clothing, and staying grounded in the present.
We Are Our Own First Responders
Another transformative piece of this teaching is a structure of dedicating your meditation to compassion for yourself and all sentient beings.
I mean this in a very literal, practical way. We have to be compassionate toward ourselves because, frankly, who else is going to do it? We are all so busy with meetings, emails, and obligations. Rarely does a colleague have the time to pull us aside and say, “I know you said you’re okay, but I can tell something is wrong. Let’s talk.” We have to be our own first responders.
Dedicating compassion to all other beings is just as vital. We are all walking around feeling stuck, feeling like we aren’t good enough, or feeling trapped by our obligations. Because of this shared pain, we have no idea how much subtle violence we do to one another. It’s the violence of bringing our unexamined frustration into a meeting, or starting a sentence with a sharp, “As I said…”
When I start my meditation with compassion, I know that just by being in a better, more grounded place, I can end the subtle harm I might otherwise inflict on those around me.
If we can all practice this, something incredible happens. You stop dreading the difficulties of the outside world. You might even end up with this beautifully twisted view of reality where you start looking forward to the next time someone cuts you off in traffic or is rude to you—because when you get good at the practice, you begin to welcome those moments as the perfect opportunities to exercise your mindfulness.
WordPress Tags: Meditation, Mindfulness, Gelong Thubten, Compassion, Zen Practice, Dealing with Distractions, Hakone Zendo, Self-Compassion, Mindful Working, Sitting with Discomfort
Promotional Sentence: Discover why having distracting thoughts during meditation isn’t a failure, but actually the entire point of the practice, in Adam’s latest reflection.
