Meditation is not Concentration
There are two ways to walk from San Francisco to New York City
Concentration is a slippery path, semantically and practically. If it comes naturally, I’d call it focus. If it takes effort, then stop, right, now. Pay attention instead. Pay attention to a mantra, your breathing, just sitting, doing the dishes, your choice.
Your attention will wander. That is natural. When you notice that your attention is on something else — a thought, an emotion, a sensation — you will, simply by noticing, return to your mantra, breath, dishes, whatever. Repeat. A second or two later, minutes later … your attention will be attracted by something else, but in time you will notice it. Repeat.
That’s it.
No effort involved. Eventually, the thoughts, the distractions will begin to lose their stickiness, their tackiness. They will fall away from your attention so your attention can return to what it has learned to prefer, the place of peace and energy — a pure, effortless, integrated mind-body concentration unlike anything remotely possibly through effort.
Effortful concentration is dangerous. When you set your mind to concentrate on something, you are making an effort. When you are successful at that effort, you pride yourself on it. When you pride yourself on it, you feel superior. When you feel superior, you are off the path. When you notice you are off the path, your attention will, if you are lucky, return to paying attention without effort, without effortful concentration. And you will understand why the pleasure of superiority is a sad way to survive.
If you can concentrate effortlessly, then you are paying attention. You understand. You are in the Zone.
Here’s the thing. When you notice your attention has drifted and thereby remember your mantra or the dishes, you are training your mind to do what seems to be an act of concentration. It is not.
There are two ways to walk from San Francisco to New York City.
One way is to see it as a challenge. You set goals — I’m going to walk so many miles a day so I get to NYC by such and such a date.
The other way is to put one foot in front of another. You will be distracted. Your attention will be captured by people, places and things, not to mention your own thoughts and feelings. But if you keep walking in the general direction of The Big Apple, you’ll be just fine.
You’ll get there either way. But the effortful approach breeds pride. “I’m a superior being. How can I monetize this?” The one-foot-in-front-of the other approach opens your eyes to the truth, opens your heart to others, opens your life to serendipity, and opens your third eye.
Make meditation a lazy habit, like taking a walk — on the beach, in the rain, with your dog, holding hands. Open to being open.
