The Buddha is quoted as saying that if one could maintain a clear state of mindfulness for as little as one week, enlightenment would be achieved. While that may sound like an attractive and simple undertaking, anyone who has tried to maintain a state of mindfulness wherein our minds do not wander off into endless loops of chatter and distraction knows that this is a nearly impossible task for most humans. The search for enlightenment aside, the development of our ability to quiet our minds for whatever length of time possible is worthy of our effort. Even a minute of respite from the usually conflicting and frightening scenarios and schemes that flood through my mind help me distance myself a little from the madness that hides inside many of my thoughts. When I can quiet myself just a little, I often find that I am afraid and acting as if something terrible were happening or about to happen. While terrible things do happen in my life and in the lives of others, they happen much less often than they are anticipated or prepared for. In fact, when I let go of my projections and worries, I find that the energy I was using to prepare for so many unfounded disasters is more than adequate to deal with the few real problems that actually arise. To arrive at this happy state of acceptance, however, I have to practice letting go and detaching myself from my inner perceptions of the world. To this end, I have found no greater tool than meditation.

My first attempts at meditation were painful and distressing. I had listened to several tapes of lectures by Thay and had read a book about Tibetan meditation practices.  I would sit in my room on a pile of pillows and try to be still. What would arise in my mind was something you would see if you showed twenty movies simultaneously on the same screen. It was maddening and frightening at times and nearly always frustrating. It was not what the Tibetan book had talked about. It was not serene or peaceful, nor was it in any way soothing. But it was real. Full of violence and desire, always chaotic, it was clear from the start that this was not a movie. This was something deep and revealing about my inner workings. There was an inherent truth being revealed, however much I didn't like what that truth was.

That was several years ago and much has changed in my practice. It has not been an even transition from chaos to serenity. There have been periods of despair and periods of elation, even periods of ecstasy. I have foresworn meditation as a true spiritual path and have claimed it to be a way of sudden and blinding transformation. I have fallen asleep many times on my cushion and have found myself plunged into despair the moment I closed my eyes. I have also found myself listening to the music of the spheres and hearing the voice of God. I have had my ups and downs. But gradually, little by little, this has evened out and calmed down. Today, my meditation is less about cushions and revelations and more about an abiding sense of peace to be sought out and relied upon, in any situation or circumstance.

Gary Gill
Silverado, Washington