No higher teachings

My teacher once said

There are no higher teachings, just deeper understandings.

For a mind that is cultivated on the ideals of scientific progress, it might be a bit difficult to fully grasp the implications of this. It means that once you've seen something, look again, and once you have understood something, re-learn it. It simply implies, for me at least, that patient perseverance and humiliation are good teachers.

There is, for example, a certain humiliation in attending beginner's meditation classes. I find myself silently protesting, saying I know this stuff, how to sit, how to breathe, how to meditate, or how I'm no beginner, that I've been doing this more or less daily for five years now.

But I haven't got a clue, really. I know I don't actually know very much, but on a much deeper level there's this silly and arrogant mind of mine that believes it does, and could it have the higher teaching now, please?

By patiently subjecting me to to the well known experience of breathing I find that I don't have any grasp of it at all. Experience is a shape-shifting drama, always just out of reach. When seeing this, when I accept that I've lost my foothold, that there wasn't ever a solid foundation to start with, that's when I finally may start to let go.

From The Life and Liberation of Padmasambhava, Canto 93. His final departing advice:

Let these three expressions:

I do not have,
I do not understand,
I do not know

Be repeated over and over again.
This is the heart of my advice.

Introduction

It seems to me that my mind has texture, like the air I breathe has texture. With texture comes a certain solidity, something tangible, something that can be perceived or experienced.

The feel of a rough piece of wood is bound to give rise to all kinds of emotional responses, as would the feel of smooth skin, wet moss, or adhesive tape. In the same way, the texture of my mind sparks off feelings, giving rise to emotions.

The mind, in an every-day practical sense, is me, and yet it is perceived by me, by this very mind. It curves back upon itself like a Klein bottle, its inside being its own outside. Ultimately, as with the Klein bottle, there is no paradox in this. The mind affects all other senses, and is pushed and pulled this way and that by them, constantly shifting and twisting.

More importantly, though, is that the texture of mind is a reflection of reality, a mold of experiences, thoughts, and memories. Actually, the word impression is a very good one, implying that everything that I perceive (including mind itself) makes indentations in my mind, creating its texture.

So, in other words, this blog is about reflections on meditation and on life in general. It will contain the impressions left by things I've experienced.

I don't aim to write very often, and possibly not entries that are this long. In fact, I can make no promises other than that I'll post something whenever I'd like to put things into words, because putting things into words sometimes makes experiences more real.