Writing As Daily Meditation

Where I Start: Part 2

“I believe that reading and writing are the most nourishing forms of meditation anyone has so far found.” Kurt Vonnegut

This is my experiment in writing meditation, just as Vonnegut suggests. As you will see, I still wrestle with my considerable demons. It is safe to say, however, that my meditation has nevertheless improved me. A few people in my life can testify to that. Some others may have noticed, too.

So. Here goes.

Rabbi Hillel starts me off each day. I’m not Jewish—not even, as George Santos might say, Jew-ish—but the good rabbi is a gift to all who want to center themselves in a realistic, self-respecting place. Hillel is probably most famous, among non-Jews anyway, for his simple formulation: If I am not for myself, who will be? If I am only for myself, what am I? If not now, when? To start off my meditation each day, I try to remember these three questions and think about what asking them means.

The first—If I’m not for myself, who will be?—straightens my spine. Given my lingering issues with self-esteem, just thinking the words is a tonic. Obviously, being for myself means, at minimum, standing up, not allowing myself to be pushed around or aside, and not beating up on myself. It’s a nudge and a poke to wake up. “Buck up,” it says. “Remember your worth. Show some respect for yourself! Stop being so damned self-effacing already! And, by the way, stay out of fights!” 

Having gotten that bucket of ice water poured over my head, the question opens up to its further implications. Being for oneself means also taking care of oneself. It means seeing to dental care, exercising to stay in shape, maintaining positive relationships, and, as Thich Nhat Hanh counsels, it means taking care of the wounded child inside. Most of us have one. It means cultivating one’s well-being. It means respecting who you are and respecting the fact that doing so takes the effort to earn that respect.

The second question—If I am only for myself, what am I?—is a great one for Buddhists because it leads right back to one’s perception of reality and motivation. Thinking that life is somehow a game of self-interest, where the one with the most toys at the end wins, is a dead giveaway, in Buddhist thinking, that one is delusional. Gathering life’s goodies—fame, money, things—and locking them up in a castle, somehow imagining that now nothing will change, that you are now safe from the changing weather blowing through every life, being, in other words, only for your own self-interest, is at heart a denial of the truth that everything is always in a state of change, that nothing is permanent.

Buddhism, on the other hand, aims for an enlightened self-interest, which means an understanding that we are all connected. “All beings are my mother,” I’ve heard my Tibetan friends say. This is shorthand for the Law of Interdependent Co-Arising, the idea that we are all constantly becoming, being created and recreated in the moment through our interactions with one another. The heart of this understanding is that life is characterized by suffering, the first of the Four Noble Truths. We do all suffer. On that level alone we can all find connection.

But life is also characterized by joy, and we need to remember that, too. I would like to live in a world where suffering is minimized and joy is maximized. You don’t need to tell me that that is a tall order. It ain’t gonna be happening just because I was nice to the kid down the block. But if I lead my life and do work that contributes to moving in that direction and, if I take from my meditation some practice that makes my daily interactions kinder, then I am contributing to creating that world. I’m serving an enlightened self-interest. What am I if I don’t make that contribution, if I am only for gathering stuff and recognition at the expense of others? Well, that would make me a sad, confused fool.  

All of what I’ll say in this survey of my meditation needs more study, more contemplation. Let’s face it, it will be incomplete, rough around the edges, but—If not now, when? When will I be ready to say what I’ve learned? Do I need to go and get myself a Ph. D. in theology or philosophy first? Do I need the final answer? No. We are here now. Life is in front of us, though most of my share is behind me. We have to offer what contribution we can while we can. If we wait for a stenographer to take it all down on our deathbed, we may be in no shape to give our report. No, I actually don’t feel ready. I never have. Probably never will. My gifts are modest. Still, it’s best to speak now.

The next step in my daily practice, to be posted next Wednesday, is the Four Reminders. Drop by this site for that discussion.