Mind

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 may be perceived or experienced, and shaped. From encounters with Reality, I'm left with impressions.

Monday 3 May 2010

Grandpa-mind

Ok, so I can't properly recall the story behind this one, but I found it most useful in meditation. It was mentioned during the Anapanasati retreat in early April. The thinking around this is my own, but the initial story was similar.

When meditating, try to meditate with grandpa-mind (or, as it may be, grandma-mind).

We usually meditate with mind of a worried parent, watching our children run around and cause all sorts of havoc, anxiously on the tips of our toes ready to intervene if the play starts to go badly. The children are our thoughts, and our thoughts come, go, and run around, just like small kids sometimes do.

Think of how grandpa would watch the children play and run around. He would not care too much about what they got up to. He knows that he doesn't need to watch every turn of their play and that they won't hurt themselves too badly, if at all. He can sit contently in his chair (smoking his pipe, as mine used to do), possibly just aware that when the kids are picked up to go home, or to be taken to bed, as they eventually will be, it will once more be quiet.

So, don't worry about your thought and worries, planning and memories. In meditation you can sit safely knowing that they will come, go, and maybe stay with you for some time. It's all right.

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