How often I've turned to music when no other alternatives have worked. Music has been a liberating factor in my recovery from the doldrums of daily life. I've heard the breath by Thich Nhat Hanh described like music, too. I know I have sought the music of my in-breath and out-breath more than any other music in the past twelve years. Perhaps that's why meditation has been so successful for me.
Some people don't have the understanding of the body as I do (being a singer and a trained massage therapist), and of the connection between the body and the mind. As a singer it is so important to work with the body, to facilitate the expansion and the contraction of the lungs, ribs and the relaxation, yet firm guidance of the abdomen with the openness and relaxation of the throat and mouth. It happens in the mind, yet the mind needs to be relaxed as well. Tension in the mind, a mind full of thoughts will not do. When calm, centered, focused, firm and yet relaxed the voice happens naturally. The song sings itself. The body opens to the song. Both mind and body are in harmony with each other.
This is meditation is it not? Music is meditation. I've watched so many great performers get into the groove, or get into the "music." Recounting a near to front row seat at Benaroya Hall in Seattle to watch Pandit Ravi Shankar commune with his Sitar--it was breath-taking--or breath-giving which ever way one might see it. I saw no separation between the music, his instrument, his body and his mind--everything flowed effortlessly together. It was enlightenment in action. Music can be enlightenment. Not every performer has that communion, and not every master performer brings that communion into their life. Perhaps that is the "addiction" to music, or the "addiction" to some meditators to their "meditation."
It is that oneness of body and mind, that togetherness with life and the universe. It is that draw into the source, that perfect union. The master brings that "meditation" into their life. Sitting, walking, eating, shitting, singing, dancing, making love it is all a part of the way one joins together, remains whole--unaffected, but not indifferent to the happenstances of the world, of life. Meditation is life. It's not separate from life. It's not something that can be done. It is life.
When meditation becomes life, there is no need really to fuss about conditions. Conditions are right just as they are. Even if there is fear, even if there is trepidation, even if there's craving, pursuit or anxiety--life unfolds as a meditation. Life unfolds as a song sung by a body and mind that is prepared for the song to come, released from burdens, from sorrows, and the song is sung, almost without effort. It is liberating to feel a song sing itself. It is equally liberating to experience life living itself. There is less effort involved. The effort is the initial stance, the setting up for the conditions, for the song to appear. When it appears it happens like a miracle.
Life happens effortlessly when the one who lives simply lives and gifts to themselves the confidence that life will work itself out. Essentially, "Getting out of the way." Too much can be done to gain a certain outcome. Too much emphasis put on the way it is "supposed to be" or the way "it has to be."
In life one can only do their best. If their best seems not enough, then perhaps there is too much emphasis on the outcome. Let loose of any thoughts of what you're going to receive in return. See clearly what it is you want, handle it softly with your thoughts. Prepare yourself, and live as if it has already happened. Then let go, soften into the effort you put on living it. As long as it is in front of you, it will never be you.
Meditation happens like a song, it comes seemingly out of the blue. It comes when conditions are sufficient. It comes when the practitioner has given up results. It comes when there is supreme relaxation, neither pulling away, nor pushing forward. It happens when one simply gives. Give your body. Give your mind. Give your ambition, your thoughts, your trepidation. Give it all to this moment. Give it all to this action. Give it all and let it in. Let in the song, the music, the meditation. Let in what naturally comes. Forget about doing. Forget about becoming. Forget about it all, and rest. Rest. Rest. Rest.
I say this because our society is driven by the extreme of more productivity (more labor) equals greater result. Sometimes with meditation more equals less. For those who aspire to lying around and doing "nothing" then a little effort may be needed (but not too much). This idea of letting go is perhaps a stumbling point for many. When I say "give" I mean to say that the personal will subsides. Adyashanti (a modern Zen Master) describes this process in one line, "The falling away of the personal will." What emerges is then the will (or perhaps no will) of the ultimate, some say God. But it is not God in the way one may think, a supreme being managing or dictating our thoughts and actions (telling us what to do). No, it is the unveiling of what is natural, what is "good", what enriches the lives of others and ourselves.
The personal will is only said to affect oneself, but it is erroneous. There is no such thing as personal will. There is no personal anything. Everything that is taken personal affects the whole. Everything with its motivation on the one person, the one being, affects everyone, everything else. I like to give the example of pollution. Think if there was only one person, driving one car--do you think there would be much pollution in the air? It is because many many people are driving cars that emit CO2 that causes pollution. There is sometimes the belief, "What does my thoughts and actions have to do with others. I am my own person. I mind my own business and other people should too."
But what we do, what we think, how we act does affect others. For us to live in harmony with ourselves, we may need to consider the feelings and perceptions of others. For anyone who lives with someone, there is that opportunity to care for someone else with the knowing that caring for them is caring for oneself. If one person is unhappy it affects everyone. Think of all the unhappy people in your life, how do you feel around them? What do people say about them? Are they well liked? Do people want to spend time with them?
If we liked spending time with unhappy people, and if we ourselves enjoyed being around unhappy people, perhaps there would be less therapists and doctors and psychiatrists in business. Mates of depressed ones flock to trained professionals (or entertainment, other lovers and such) to cope with their anxiety or their frustration. Many people can't deal with another person's unhappiness, not to mention their own, particularly if they happen to be engaged in an intimate relationship with them. If there is unhappiness, many people want to get away from it, or at least, want it to change.
So the meditation is a surrendering of the personal will, and is the coming to terms with the fact that we are all connected, all species, all beings are related, are engaged to each other--that there is only one, one without the view of many. That's the way it is. One cough in the world sends millions of germs out into the atmosphere. Catching a cold may be an indication of how much we are connected to others. And that in essence, is the teaching of kindness, loving kindness. We want to be kind, we want to be generous, we want to share our love because the other is a part of us. Loving ourselves then means loving the other person too. That is meditation. That is life. Meditation is life.
©2008 Brian Kimmel.
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