Meditation is the Art of Balancing

By Mari Gayatri Stein

Let’s get personal. Do you believe you are going to die, or do you think you will live forever? What is the state of your soul right now? To a meditator such questions are as pertinent as: “What shall I eat for breakfast?” and “What’s on the agenda for today?”

Saturday night I lay awake reviewing my life—again, I’m coming up on a birthday. I thought about my Moon dog with whom I had spent almost sixteen years; she died on February fifth. I thought about the great books I mean to write, the too-funny-to- put-into-words cartoons I am yet to pen and the moment to moment contented life I am attempting to live. I thought about being wheeled one more time into the operating room. Fear arose—“ big time” as my friend Ann would say. When I am afraid, my mind and body rev up and scorch down the Autobahn faster than a new Lamborghini. Since there is no speed limit, racing to a suffering Hell seems natural. Thoughts spin into sentences at an alarming rate. Pictures flash by faster than the eye can record. My heart pounds, my throat catches, my chest vibrates, my arms feel hot and a lick of flame rises up the back of my neck and singes my curls.

Before the idea of dying dropped from my head to my heart and planted roots in my gut, I would have been lost in a dream—or in this case a nightmare of imaginings—for hours. Now I am able to stop and watch. I let my body expand to contain all the feelings. The containment is that of the sky, endlessly spacious, non reactive and patient. Here there is room enough for all phenomena to express itself with complete abandon and resolve into empty softness without leaving a mark. Its true nature is unaltered. It is and will always be sky. I believe that in spite of all changing appearances I will remain innately myself—a pool of energy constantly rearranging its patterns, manifesting as form for an unspecified period of time and brimming with lovingkindness.

With plenty of room and no resistance, I know it is safe to entertain any feeling-thought-image, in any combination. I, like sky, will prevail. Indeed it can be excruciating to open up to all these sensations and let them percolate through me, but with the discipline of meditation practice I remain free. The mind is a little trickier.

All those stories are familiar companions, like family members you don’t much care for—but hey you’re related—so you are convinced you have no choice but to give into their whims and demands. When I focus through the lenses of equanimity and compassion, I am rewarded with equal vision. Then I can tease apart that which is real and that which is pretend. Rationalizations are rarely rational; they gobble up precious time. I let desire, aversion and doubt duke it out in the wings, while I float like a cloud in an endless sky. Regardless of the emotional weather, calm or turbulent, if I let go of the content of the stories, they take on the cadence of bird songs. They become the voices of my ancestors, and as they continue to retell their tales to the firmament, I hear only music.

Meditation requires the discipline of a formal practice, consistency and faith. How can we remember to be mindful without exercising our spiritual muscles on a regular basis? It also requires the discrimination of the heart and the cultivation of contentment. As we begin to apply meditation techniques to everyday life, we develop the ability to love the whole world as our mother, father, sister, brother, dog, cat, horse, pig. Although there is ample room in our hearts, our physical energy is limited. We wish to be skillful when choosing how many of these critters can coexist happily in our homes and in our heads.

To embrace impermanence means to live with the intoxication of a first love and the intimacy of an old soul. By bringing my mind back to the present, I can be happy. I feel my breath. I look and see. I listen and hear. I wait and feel. I rest. I move with zeal and passionate dedication. I syncopate with the rhythms of mother nature, follow her lead and try never to stomp on her toes.

A smile ties it all together. The ribbon surrounding the gift of discipline and heart is one of humor. I plead with myself: “Please dear, don’t become earnest.” When things get serious, I let the cartoon bubble over my head fill with humorous images and irreverent sayings. That universal spark that connects us to each other and the source is unfailing. Knowing this, I trust myself to act honorably without having to hold back. It is okay to laugh and cry at the same time.

“Take pleasure in the moment, be kind” is my mantra today. Intimacy forces us to see through to the bare bones. Who but the lover dares to travel to such a lonely place? When we become true lovers without the need for an object of our affection, we can move from loneliness to Nirvana. What is meditation but flowing through a blade of grass with all our senses fully intact?

Mari Gayatri-Stein is the author and illustrator of The Buddha Smiles: A Collection of Dharmatoons and Unleashing Your Inner Dog: Your Best Friend’s Guide to Life. She lives with her husband and their canine companions in Medford, Oregon where they run a certified organic farm and nursery. Mari also continues to teach yoga and meditation locally and facilitates retreats in Oregon and Hawaii. www.marigayatri.com