Enlightenment Without Meditation

Disclaimer: Read ALL of this before making a judgment about me or reaching any conclusions of my opinion.

First of all, I don’t think you’ll ever find enlightenment without meditation. But I do think you can find enlightenment without “traditional meditation.” By “traditional meditation” I’m speaking of some form of kneeling or sitting quietly while focusing on your breathing and nothing else.  To say that the only authentic meditation involves a particular “religious” discipline is to say that you can only find enlightenment in a finite number of ways.  By “religious” I don’t mean Buddhism or Christian Zen, I mean a repeated activity in the sense of “she did that’ religiously’.”

Perhaps the most dramatic example of “traditional meditation” was performed by the Buddha under the Bodhi tree. Tradition tells us that he sat there virtually without moving for 49 days and nights. That’s seven weeks of sitting completely still. So if that’s the ultimate example of how mediation is supposed to be accomplished, I don’t think it has ever been or will ever be repeated again.  Whatever form of meditation you practice will be inferior to that. What I’m saying is don’t judge me because I perform very few acts of “traditional meditation.”  There are other ways to meditate.

Several years ago I decided to give “traditional meditation” a shot.  I got up every morning at five a.m., sat upright in a straight backed chair, and for an hour concentrated on my breathing. I’m not saying there was no benefit to the exercise, but after about two months of this early morning ritual, all I felt was sleepy. But for the record, meditation did not promise that I would feel anything. Toward the end of my journey in “traditional meditation” I had a sort of out of body experience. My spirit floated to the ceiling and I could look down at my chair.  Not to poo poo my own possible spiritual breakthrough, but I’m pretty sure that I went to sleep and dreamed the whole thing.

I started this by saying that I don’t think you’ll find enlightenment without meditation. And I’ll stand by that comment.  But to understand my opinion I need to redefine “meditation.”  I think you are meditating when you give your full attention to anything.  If you give your full attention to the music  you’re listening to, you’re meditating. If you give your full attention to watching the birds on your feeder, you’re meditating. If you give your full attention to listening to  your wind chimes, you’re meditating.  While you’re driving, if you give your full attention to your driving and your moving surroundings, you’re meditating. If you give your full attention to writing in your journal, you’re meditating. The Buddhists call it “mindfulness.”  Some practitioner of Zen thought said, “When you drink tea, drink tea.”  They also tell us when we eat, to eat. Don't distract yourself by reading or watching TV. Just chew mindfully and swallow. And be grateful.  Do whatever it is that you’re doing and not something else.  In the international bestseller Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, the late Robert Pirsig said that he enjoyed working on his motorcycle as much as he enjoyed riding it.  If you leave out “the Art” you’re left with The Zen of Motorcycle Maintenance. You can experience the Zen of anything. 

I have a good friend who receives much benefit from “traditional meditation.” He employs a kneeling bench and a candle. He meditates there at least thirty minutes a day.  He attributes this time and place for his renewed ability  to find joy and meaning in his life. he believes his meditation has quieted his monkey brain and opened his awareness exponentially.   I applaud him for that discipline and that effort. I’m just saying that if  you’re not willing to do that, then don’t despair; the opportunities for meditation are limitless.  The path to enlightenment starts right at your feet. But I will say this, although enlightenment is possible without "traditional meditation", it's a lot more likely with it. And then "traditional meditation" leads to even more mindfulness. So, can you become enlightened without "traditional meditation"?  Yes. But is it very likely?  That depends. Yes, if you employ walking meditation as a daily habit. No, if you never meditate at all.  By the way, while you read this, were you aware of your breathing?  My point, exactly. Without being aware of your breathing, but by concentrating on these words, you were meditating. And possibly enlightened.

The Place Where God Calls You

The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet."  Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking

It has been a long time since I felt that a dream meant something.  I have certainly dreamed dreams since 1982 that I felt were significant, but nothing has ever approached the beauty and power of that dream.  In that case I sought the help of a Lutheran minister who took dreams and dreaming seriously. He said, “Young man (like I said, it was 1982), Young man, God has given you an epic dream.  If you will pay attention to it, it will change the direction of your life". I did. And it did.  The dream I had in my waking moments this morning was not that sort of dream.  But since it has stayed with me all day I have come to believe that it meant something.

In recent years I have come to name the institution where I earned a master in music as “graduate school” instead of seminary.  Truth be told it was a Baptist seminary.  In spite of the fact that at the time it was one of the most admired and respected schools of theology in the world, it is now a third rate Calvanistic Bible college.  The seminary music school where I earned that degree was one of the most outstanding music schools in  the country. I applied myself and graduated with honors musically and academically. I was very proud of my accomplishments, and my teachers and peers were proud of me too. The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary is not only a horrible excuse for a seminary, but there is no music school there at all. It has been closed for several years. I still have my diploma, but what is a diploma worth regardless of what it cost if the school no longer exists?

Upon graduation, after considering five different offers, we decided that it was “God’s will” for us to move to Rossville, Georgia to the Rossville First Baptist Church. I poured my heart and soul into both the music ministry and the youth ministry of that church.  After four years, burned out and washed up,  I resigned that position. I spent the next two years as youth director of the McFarland United Methodist Church, the church across the street. Those two years were for me a marvelous time of grace and healing. In a future life I look forward to finding out what happened to me and to that church if I had stayed there.  But after two years the Signal Mountain Baptist Church of Signal Mountain, Tennessee tempted me with a large part-time salary and the opportunity to lead in church music again.  I  left that position twice and was invited back twice. So all told I spent fourteen years as the Minister of Music over a twenty year period. Nearly two years ago Rossville First Baptist Church closed its doors forever.  Several weeks ago the  Signal Mountain Baptist Church closed its doors for good.  My school of music doesn’t exist and two of my life’s most important churches  ceased to exist as well. Where does this leave my life and legacy?  Educationally and vocationally do I even exist?

When I woke up this morning the dream had been powerful enough that it took me a few seconds to clear my head and to know what was real and what was a dream. In the dream I was just starting down Signal Mountain on Signal Mountain Road.  The incident had just taken place so there weren’t many cars or people around. Instead of pavement in front of me there was a gaping hole in the asphalt. I didn’t know for sure but I was fairly certain a car had fallen into that hole. Since the road is on  the side of a mountain I knew that the hole was quite deep and that if there was a car the driver had probably died in the impact.  I approached the chasm to take a picture and then decided the photo wasn’t worth risking my life for if the road continued to cave.  And I woke up.

I said that I felt like the dream meant something, but I have little idea what it means.  I do think that the black hole is a metaphor for the black hole at the center of the Milky Way.  The gravitational pull of a black hole is so powerful not even light can escape, thus it’s a black hole. In spite of their reputation as  death stars, black holes are the engines of their respective galaxies.  The galaxies exist because though dark as eternal night, the black holes exists.

Now for the interpretation. I don't know where to go, but I know where to start.  One dead music school. Two dead churches. A driver on  Signal Mountain less than a mile from the church fell through the black asphalt to her death.  I’m standing on the road near the hole safe and sound. I’m okay. The dark black hole didn't kill me. 

A few years after leaving Signal Mountain Baptist Church for the third and last time, the McFarland United Methodist Church gave me the opportunity to be their music director. By then I had matured in my faith and theology that I didn't so much seek "God's will" as to discern what would be best for the church, my family and for me. Why would God have a problem with that? I decided to go for it.  Those four years turned out to be four of the best years of my music ministry. It didn't matter that my diploma had expired and that my seminary was on life support, it only mattered that there had been a need and that I filled it as best I could. Buechner said that's the place God calls you.  Saying yes to that call has made all the difference.  I'm reading a book, All About Dreams: Everything You Need to Know about Why We Have Them, What They Mean and How to Put Them to Work for You. When I'm finished reading I'll get back to you on the meaning of this black hole dream. I'll probably learn the obvious, it means "seven years of feast followed by seven years of famine".

An Interrupted Life

“Work begins when you don't like what you're doing. Tension, a lack of honesty, and a sense of unreality come from following the wrong force in your life. As an adult, you must rediscover the moving power of your life!”- A Joseph Campbell Companion: Reflections on the Art of Living

I have not as thoroughly identified with an author as the one I’m reading now. I’m reading the diary of Elly Hillesum. The published diary is so true to her German text that the translator plays a bigger role in its English publication than does the editor.  However, the editor states that if he had published her entire diary, the book would be over 400 pages long, This book, An Interrupted Life: The Diaries of Elly Hillesum, 1941-1943 is 223 pages. Elly, a Dutch Jew, wrote her diary during World War II.  She was 27 years old in 1941 and died at age 29 at Auschwitz in 1943.

I started writing and publishing to Facebook nearly fifteen years ago.  The first story I published was about the death of my beautiful mixed shepherd, Maggie. I received several favorable comments about the story so a few days later I published something else. I have now published several hundred stories over that period of years. One big difference between Elly’s diary and what I write is that she is willing to be a lot more open and honest about everything.  It’s not  that I’m dishonest. I don’t make the stories up. It's just that she delves into her deepest beliefs, thoughts and feelings about everything that matters to her. What I write and what you read is the tip of the iceberg.  Elly relates the iceberg. Maybe I’d be more correct to say that I’m the Titanic and very much aware of the icebergs.

I’ve been rather discouraged of late with my writing and publishing.  Blogspot, the blog platform I use, has been telling me for years that about 120 people read my posts.  Once over 900 people read my story about the closing of a church. I enjoy knowing that people read and benefit from my writings. But a couple of months ago either something happened to the way Facebook distributes my posts or Blogspot is telling me wrong about the number of people reading.  It tells me that only about twenty people read my posts on any given day. I’ve figured out the problem is with Facebook and not Blogspot and I've let that affect my writing.

This morning in a session with  my counselor, she suggested that I write a journal. I realize that I could benefit from a pen and paper journal, but I told her that I have a journal and that I post to it about once a week. It’s called In a Different Light and I jot down my beliefs, hopes, feelings,  and past and present experiences.  Maybe not all of them, but a lot. So I decided again that I don’t write what I write for you. I write for me.  It doesn’t matter if 500 people read it or nobody reads it, the things I write need to be written. As Joseph Campbell stated, I must continually rediscover the moving power of my life. The words matter not because they’re read, but because they’re written.

An irony of Elly’s diary is that she states from time to time that she would like to write a great book. She feels destined to write a great book.  I seriously doubt that she knew that she was writing it. Maybe one of her last thoughts in the gas chamber was, “I wish I had written my book.” Would she have written all that she wrote if she had known her words would become a best seller? Although the illusion she creates is that she’s writing to me, and I would guess most of her readers feel that way, she was more than likely just writing to herself.

The truth is there is no such thing as "an interrupted life."  Esther "Elly" Hillesum was born on January 25, 1914 and she died on November 30, 1945.  That was her whole life. Her life ended that day at the hands of the Nazis, but it wasn't interrupted. The affect her 29 years  had on people then and now cannot be measured. I have a birth date and one day will have an end date. The challenge is to live the dash as meaningfully as possible for myself and those around me. Meanwhile, if I help bring meaning for you, we're both better off.