The purpose of Mudita Forum is to provide a stimulating, thoughtful environment for discussing Eastern consciousness-raising practices — such as meditation, mindfulness, and the cultivation of presence — while using Ayn Rand’s philosophy of Objectivism as a basic philosophical frame-of-reference.

The old group got lost when I was changing servers a couple years ago, but recently I’ve been contacted by new people wishing to join.

My hope for the new group is that it will be much like the old one: low-volume, high-quality, and stimulating on many levels.

I sent invites to many of you from the old group, but I’m sure I missed some of you. Also, Google apparently holds such invitation messages until they can review and approve them manually, so who knows when you’ll get my invitation.

Membership in the new group is by approval only, but feel free to request joining if you’re interested in the subject matter.

Feel free to browse some of my own public posts to the forum for an example of the kinds of things we discuss.

Like I mentioned, my main concern was that I was having a hard time understanding how his approach would help me with my goal. I did enjoy reading his work though. I’ve always wrestled with the concept of greater concentration through letting go. How do you let go and let things just be? Is concentration not a skill? I want to give his CD a go and see what happens.

To which I replied:

If you had told me, when I was learning to ride a bike, that I’d be able to keep my balance better if I looked at the road in front of me rather than at my handlebars, I might have questioned your sanity. And yet it’s true.

There is a similar dynamic with concentration. We tend to think that we have poor concentration because we have insufficient discipline or motivation or will-power. (I can’t balance the bike because I’ve not learned to turn the handlebars fast enough!) In reality, we’re focusing too closely on the handlebars (what we think we can control) rather than the horizon (what will actually give us balance).

In the case of meditation, we have to understand that clear-mindedness, including adequate levels of concentration, is the natural state of awareness. Yet we all have mental habits — our fears and our desire to control our own mind and experiences — that upset the natural equilibrium.

And so “true meditation,” as Adyashanti calls it, requires letting go of our attempts to control the mind, so that we can learn to focus on the horizon rather than the handlebars. More literally, it means practicing our ability to observe experience without manipulation, and allowing our mind and body to respond more intuitively to our experience, without interfering constantly in our own mental processes.

In this way, we stop overcompensating (like turning the handlebars too fast) and upsetting the natural balance of our mind.

I hope this analogy helps some and makes it easier to relax into the kinds of exercises that Adyashanti provides in his audio recording. The True Meditation recording is fantastic; I can’t recommend it highly enough. My wife is already asking me to make copies to loan to her friends.

From his reply:

I played baseball my entire life. I pitched through college and played a summer of semi-pro ball. The thing that held me back from making it all the way was my head. During fielding practice I would amaze my coaches at my abilities to throw with incredible velocity. Come game time though; I’d bare down so hard I actually lost velocity and control. I was never able to break this. Had I had the explanation you just gave who knows where I’d be right now.

Good point. I’ve definitely found that the benefits of meditation, approached properly, are helpful in many areas of life.

From the list’s description:

Mudita Forum is a moderated discussion group for individuals with an interest both in Ayn Rand’s ideas (such as her philosophy of Objectivism) and in the consciousness-raising practices associated with Eastern thinking.

Purpose

The purpose of Mudita Forum is to provide a stimulating, thoughtful environment for discussing Eastern consciousness-raising practices—such as meditation, mindfulness, and the cultivation of presence—while using Objectivism as a basic philosophical frame-of-reference.

Who Should Subscribe

If you are interested in Objectivism and in Eastern ideas, we’d love to have you to join us. Many of our members have experience with meditation, and are interested in exploring its value in the context of a rational philosophy.

We’re here to explore promising, uncharted territory in the path to personal growth, in a spirit of open inquiry. If you are motivated to expose the irrationality of Buddhism or other Eastern ideas, please don’t subscribe. Although we might agree with some of your criticisms, the “debunking” mindset is not consistent with the spirit of this list.

If this sounds interesting to you, then by all means, please join us!

Below is a posting I wrote on the subject, in response to Damian’s question “Has anyone else had experience with metta meditation that they’d care to share?”

I should mention that I’m somewhat reluctant to post this topic on my blog. I expect that some Objectivists will be repulsed. And that’s a downright shame, in my mind, as lovingkindness meditation one of the most concrete examples I’ve found of a technology for true happiness. Some will no doubt be closed to the idea, and even hostile.

So be it. I hope my comments will do something to help soften the stigma.

I first encountered metta meditation in 2000 or so, from the same psychologist, Tom Bien, who introduced me to Buddhism (via Thich Nhat Hahn’s writings). He recommended some traditional phrases — “May I be happy, may I be free of physical suffering, may I be free of mental suffering, etc…” — for me to use during my sittings. I experimented with them but didn’t feel like I was getting much out of it at all, for some reason.

I next encountered metta meditation in 2002 when I attended my first Leigh Brasington retreat. Leigh stayed with me during the night before the retreat, and I had the opportunity to chat with him about my practice and what I hoped to get out of it.

During one of our conversations, Leigh explained that there are three basic “personality types” within Buddhism: those who tend to be greedy for experiences, those who tend to be fearful of experiences, and those who tend to be confused by their experiences. They correspond roughly to the archetypes for greed, hatred, and delusion. We all have some of each, but one tends to prevail within our personality.

Leigh suggested I might be the second type (which tends to be fearful of experience, perhaps because of my chronic facial pain) and I agreed with his assessment. He then pointed out that, for my personality type, metta is the most important practice in meditation — the practice which could open my heart and bring balance and joy to my life.

I bought his perspective from the beginning, but I’ve been slow to implement it in my life … it’s been four years since then, and I still don’t consistently employ metta in my practice.

Fortunately, however, Leigh showed me how to get much better results, when I do practice metta. The trick, for me, is to use visual imagery rather than verbal phrases. For example, if I picture the face of someone I love (tucking my wife Kathy into bed is my favorite visualization) then I can often get a nice strong feeling of love inside my chest, which I can then extend to myself and others, by bringing each person before me in my mind’s eye.

During his retreats, Leigh uses a wonderful selection of guided visualizations for each night’s metta practice. They’re originally from his teacher, Ayya Khema.

Some of my favorites are “The Beloved,” “Golden Light,” and “The Fountain.” In my head, I hear them in Leigh’s (rather kind) voice, with a nice long pause between paragraphs, during which I sometimes get very deeply into the visualizations.

I’ve been thinking about recording my own renditions of the guided visualizations, to play back to myself in the evenings, when I begin meditating. (If any of you would be interested in having a copy of this on CD, let me know. That might help get me off the dime.)

Wrapping up my story…. During this year’s retreat, I read Salzberg’s book and was mostly impressed. She is not a spectacular writer, in my opinion, but she has some wonderful stories; and some sections of the book (the introduction and first chapter, in particular) seemed downright beautiful and have inspired me to take this practice much more seriously.

As I was reading, and trying to conceptualize some things I wish she had said more clearly, it occurred to me that there seem to be three aspects of really adopting a metta practice:

1. UNDERSTANDING – Grasping the nature and value of metta practice. Realizing that it contributes to your happiness. Realizing the paradoxical nature of love: the more of it you give away, the more of it you have. Realizing that this is a very, very good thing for anyone with a heart and a mind and a desire to be happy.

2. FEELING – Cultivating the actual feelings of love, kindness, and ardor that can arise inside of you. Helping to grow those feelings inside, to provide fuel and motivation for your metta practice. Damn, it just feels good.

3. INTENTION – Setting a deliberate intention to act with love and kindness toward the people you interact with in day-to-day life. It’s easy to feel as though the “feeling” step is the most important one, given how powerful it can be. In reality, however, your ability to apply metta to your life is largely a function of how strongly and clearly your intention has been set — and followed.

During this year’s retreat, I set my intention; I resolved firmly to adopt an attitude of love and kindness on a daily basis, toward the people with whom I interact. And for me this isn’t some lovey-dovey, hippie-dippy aspiration; it’s a concrete realization that when I’m loving, I’m happy; and when I’m fearful or angry, I become unhappy and stay unhappy … until I wake up.

This means no more getting impatient and condescending when I receive poor customer service on the phone, for example. But since this is something that always leaves me feeling troubled afterwards anyway, I’m not expecting to miss it much.

So that’s my story and my take on why metta has become so important to me. I look forward to hearing others’ thoughts!

GANGHWA ISLAND, South Korea — An hour’s drive to the west from Seoul, an enterprising businessman talks about plans for his homegrown businesses. In 1997, he opened up a steam bathhouse, and in his restaurant, he uses the plants from a nearby lotus field for tea and for naengmyeon, or cold noodles. He’s even thinking of creating a lotus patty and brewing lotus makgeolli, the traditional rice wine.

This entrepreneur doesn’t sport a dark suit or a tie, or even hair. Instead, the Venerable Seongwon wears gray robes as the head monk at Seonwon Temple on Ganghwa island.

Although Buddhism emphasizes spiritual enlightenment and avoiding worldly pursuits, the monk hopes to make 50 billion won ($43.5 million) not for himself, but for his dream of re-creating the original Seonwon Temple, whose history dates back to the Goryeo Dynasty (918-1392).

See the full article for additional information.

I greatly enjoyed David Axel’s kickoff essay for chapter three. I’m particularly glad he brings up the subject of “mind identification,” as I find this to be one of Eckhart’s most important, and yet most challenging, ideas to understand and apply fully. David writes:

As much as I agree with Tolle’s recommendation that we “disidentify” from what he calls “mind,” I nevertheless remain unwilling to disown my mind or to treat it as anything less than a part of who I am. The same goes for my teeth, hair, skin and so on. Granted, changes in some of my aspects are more “essential” than others. If I need to get a tooth pulled, much as I may once have loved that tooth, if that’s necessary for my well-being, it’s not a problem. If I get my hair cut, my self has changed, but in a respect that’s not central to who I am.

So, in summary, I’m more inclined to regard the issue of the relationship between self and mind from the vantage point of the whole-part relationship, rather than maintaining that the mind is no part of the self.

I am fairly certain that the “identification” process Eckhart cautions against is an automatic, unconscious process of identification, rather than the conscious conceptual process of identification that David describes above. Further, the “self” that one should learn to disidentify from the contents of one’s mind is the felt sense of self, rather than the whole organism or some conceptual understanding of the self.

As such, there would be no need to exclude the mind from one’s conceptual identification of the self. Rather, we should learn to disidentify our felt sense of self from the (often automatic and compulsive) thought processes that constitute so much of normal mental life. How do we do this? By taking the unconscious process of identification and making it conscious.

Here is an example:

You have an argument with your boss in the morning. It’s only a minor disagreement, but later in the day you find yourself replaying the argument in your mind. As you continue to replay the conversation in your mind, you become increasingly unsettled and, ultimately, angry.

In this example, you become angry because you identify with the imaginary you (mental self) in your mentally recreated argument. But it is not your teeth, hair, and skin that you identify with the mental self; rather, it is the felt sense of self. This is key: When you’re in the mind-identified state of awareness, it is your felt sense of self — and not your bodily or even conceptual self — that “identifies,” so to speak, with the mental activity.

Note also that this identification process is not conscious. Rather, it happened automatically, probably by habit; you’ve had many such mental conversations in the past, and you normally relate to those conversations as though they were real conversations, instead of observing that they are mental creations that can be safely dropped.

I am convinced that this entire process — of how we form unconscious identifications, and how they can be broken — is of truly inestimable significance. No one could count how much human suffering has been created by imagining some scenario (e.g., she doesn’t like me, he is out to get me, I’ll be annihilated if I don’t stick up for myself) and

My thanks to Mark for his spirited kick-off essay introducing Chapter 1 in our discussion of The Power of Now.

In some ways, this chapter is a tour-de-force of challenging ideas. Here is my personalized summary of some of the key points from the chapter:

* Enlightenment is not a superhuman accomplishment, but rather a natural state of “felt connectedness with Being.”

* The experience of Being provides the basis of the spiritual life; however, Being is not something supernatural, but rather the supremely natural: existence itself, prior to being differentiated, by the mind, into existents.

* Being can be felt directly, as the experience of your own inner body. As a part of what exists, we are each part of Being, and thus the experience of Being is available to us at all times, if we only pay attention to it.

* However, we have a neurotic tendency instead to identify with our minds. This causes a constant preoccupation with past and future, as well as much unhappiness. As the mind strives to protect its fabricated sense-of-self — the ego — we are subjected to a low level of chronic anxiety and fear. Hence, the preoccupation with the dream-like past and future, rather than with the here-and-now.

* Descartes’s statement that “I think, therefore I am,” is thus an expression of the most basic error: to equate thinking with being, and identity with thinking.

* This tendency to identify with the mind is also the primary obstacle to experiencing Being, and thus enlightenment. Only by letting go of the ‘egoic mind’ can we find peace and connectedness with Being, with what is available to be experienced in this moment, with what actually is.

* The road to enlightenment lies in deliberately cultivating the capacity for present-moment awareness, and the direct experience of what is, in this moment, true and real.

* When we need to use our mind, our capacity for thought, it will still be there. But our mind will be clearer, more focused, more penetrating. We won’t be as clouded by resistance, tension, and emotion.

Above, I mention that these ideas are challenging. They can be particularly so for admirers of Ayn Rand’s philosophy, for several reasons:

…It challenges us to open to a new kind of spirituality, which can feel alien to self-identified atheists.

…It challenges us to recognize the destructive role of the ego, challenging the value of egoism per se. (Or does it?)

…It further challenges us to dis-identify with the mind — with our capacity for abstract thought — which seems like a yet more fundamental challenge to the very heart of Ayn Rand’s philosophy: the unalloyed reliance on reason.

Can these differences ever be reconciled? If so, how?

I certainly believe they can be reconciled, and to great benefit — but only after very careful consideration. I look forward to reading others’ thoughts.

As listowner, I’d like to express my pleasure at having the Zen meditation teachers Craig Richards and, now, Michael McAlister in our group. I appreciate their ability to bring the fresh Zen perspective to our discussions and dialogues. Ultimately, whether we agree or disagree on the topics we discuss is less important than whether we grow in the process, and expand our understandings of the spiritual path—and I know that Craig and Michael are, as teachers, uniquely suited to facilitating this process for us (and for themselves).

Returning to a subject I’ve mentioned before, I’d like to begin arranging our discussion of Eckhart Tolle’s book The Power of Now. Specifically, I’d like to encourage any listmembers who are potentially interested in the discussion, but are unfamiliar with Tolle’s works, to buy the audio version of this book so they can follow along and participate.

While reading the book can expose you to the content of Tolle’s teachings, hearing Tolle read the book himself exposes you to the practice of his teachings, which is even more valuable. Eckhart seems to truly live the value of what he is teaching, and this shines forth in his spoken word.

I don’t expect to have time to write a formal review of the book in the near future, but there are many reviews available on the Internet, and there are others on this list who can share what they have found valuable in Tolle’s teachings. Perhaps those of you who are familiar with his work could write in, if only briefly, and share your perspective, by way of an introduction to our discussion.

Speaking for myself, what has been most valuable to me in Eckhart’s teachings is the sense that they put me in touch with what Nathaniel Branden calls one’s “sage self”—the luminous, still clarity of consciousness that feels sometimes like a glimpse into the future of human development. When I listen to Eckhart, I am reminded of the stillness and peace and wisdom that is always available to me inside, though it has often been covered up by chronic mental activity.

This is really only the tip of the iceberg, however, as Eckhart (through his audio recordings) has become my primary spiritual teacher over the last six months, and it’s hard to encapsulate just how much I have learned from him and feel that I have grown in in the process. But, overall, I feel more at peace, more insightful about the inner workings of my mind, and more awake to the aliveness of life. I argue less and I spend more time enjoying people on their own terms.

Eckhart has much to teach. At the same time, there is a new-age-guru feeling to the reception he has gotten in the United States, which can be a turn-off, especially to hard-headed realists. Yet the Rand admirers whom I personally know to be the most committed to their own spiritual growth—by which I mean, are constantly striving to understand their relationship to the rest of the universe, and their role in it, and how to improve it—have been moved deeply upon listening to the first CD of The Power of Now.

I look forward to hearing other listmembers’ thoughts about Eckhart Tolle, and about the coming discussion. Please contact me if you’re interested in writing a kick-off essay to introduce one or more of the following chapters. (In general, I’m leaning towards having kick-off essays that are shorter, easier to write, and less formal than our kick-off essays for the McLeod discussion.)

Here are the chapters:

1. You are not your mind
2. Consciousness: The way out of pain
3. Moving deeply into the now
4. Mind strategies for avoiding the now
5. The state of presence
6. The inner body
7. Portals into the unmanifested
8. Enlightened relationships
9. Beyond happiness and unhappiness there is peace
10. The meaning of surrender

And here is a link to compare prices around the Internet on the audio CD version of The Power of Now.

Feel free to write me or the list with comments, questions, and suggestions about the upcoming discussion.

If you would like to print out this essay, you’ll probably find the printable version of “How to Meditate” more suitable.

The purpose of meditation is to strengthen your mind. Most people think of consciousness as something we “just do,” but conscious awareness can be strengthened just as a muscle can be strengthened; and meditation provides a workout for your mind.

Through meditation, many people find they can make their attention more stable, strong, and wieldy. You do this by learning to isolate awareness from its alternatives—just as you would isolate one muscle from another—and then exercising it. The process requires discipline and effort, but the basic principles are simple. This essay describes those principles and provides guidance for building a rewarding meditation practice.

The core of the process lies in cultivating a state of consciousness that is alert and open, while less prone to becoming distracted or lost in thought. Different spiritual traditions use different names for this state—presence, mindfulness, pristine awareness, the silent watcher, etc.—but the underlying experience is the same, and meditation is the ideal practice for cultivating this state of consciousness.

Basic meditation consists of three interwoven practices: assuming an alert posture, cultivating present-moment awareness, and practicing complete acceptance of what is.

Alert Posture

Find a quiet place where you are unlikely to be disturbed, and sit in whatever position is most comfortable for you, either on the floor (with a bench or some solid cushioning under you) or on the edge of a chair. If you’re sitting in a chair, be sure you don’t use the chair-back; sit at the forward edge.

However you sit, make sure your posture is stable, upright, and dignified. You can imagine a string tied to the back of your head, pulling your spine upward toward the ceiling. Maintaining this posture throughout your sitting will help you build and maintain concentration, by facilitating better blood flow to be brain and preserving your sense of awakeness.

You can place your hands in whatever position feels comfortable and allows you to forget about them. The traditional pose is to place the upturned palm of your right hand inside your upturned palm of your left hand, with thumbs touching together lightly.

As you meditate, you’ll find that your body gradually settles; when you notice it, simply return to the upright posture that feels open and dignified. Some people find that breathing diaphragmatically (into the abdomen, rather than into the chest) makes it easier to maintain an upright posture during your meditation.

Present-moment Awareness

The easiest way to build present-moment awareness is to pick a sensation in your body, and focus deeply on that experience. Many people use the breath as their object of meditation, focusing either at the nose (where the breath enters the nostrils) or at the belly (where the diaphragm expands and contracts with each breath). Or you can use the warm energy inside your body as your object of awareness, or even just the sensations in your hands.

Whatever you choose, stay with that sensation. After a time, inevitably, you will find that you have become distracted and are lost in thought. Each time this happens, gently set aside whatever you were thinking about, and return to your object of awareness.

Through this practice, of drawing your attention back to the present moment and keeping it there, you isolate and strengthen the “muscle” for conscious awareness. You’ll also find yourself becoming increasingly relaxed and undistracted; it’s a very pleasant place to be in.

For the first few minutes of your sitting, you will undoubtedly find it challenging to keep your attention on your object of meditation. As you persevere, however, it will become easier. Typically, after twenty to thirty minutes your compulsion to think will have begun to relent, and you’ll find it easier to put your awareness on something and have it “stick.”

Acceptance of What Is

As you’re developing present-moment awareness, take care to be completely accepting of whatever is there. In this context, acceptance means “non-struggle”—you want to experience what is in the moment without any resistance or judgment or analysis.

If an emotion arises, simply hold the feeling in your awareness, without indulging in thought. Similarly, if you notice tension or numbness or unease, just allow yourself to feel that deeply. You want to allow whatever is there, to be there. This allowing has two components: awareness and non-interference. By staying aware of your experience, but not attempting to stop or change it, you strengthen your capacity for, and your experience of, conscious awareness itself.

You may feel some minor aches in your back and legs during the sitting, but these can often be minimized by returning to an alert posture. Avoid shifting your body position (unless you feel your body is being harmed) or scratching an itch, however; instead, allow feelings of discomfort to arise and recede, without interference. To ease any discomfort during your sittings, you might try adding some gentle stretching, or yoga, beforehand. This helps stimulate circulation, ease mental and physical tension, and relax the body—allowing you to meditate more easily and comfortably, for longer periods of time.

In the beginning, you may only be able to meditate comfortably for ten or twenty minutes. Extended sittings become easier with practice, however, and most people find that longer sittings (of 30 to 45 minutes) are the most rewarding. After thirty to forty minutes, your attention will usually become quite refined and clear.

It is usually good to use a timer to keep track of how long you’ve been meditating, so you don’t have to keep looking at a clock. Some people use a digital timer or an alarm clock. I have a small grandfather clock in my living room that chimes every fifteen minutes, and I use it to meditate for 30 or 45 minutes at a time, depending on my schedule.

Always decide in advance for how long you’re going to meditate. When you do it “for however long you feel,” you will often find that the mind starts playing tricks on you; rather than settling down into present-moment awareness, you may become distracted or bored or not-in-the-mood or something else that causes you to quit. This is all part of the resistance process—of how compulsive thinking keeps its grip on consciousness—which meditation helps to dissolve.

These practices will introduce you to a quality of calmness and equanimity that you may have never before experienced. Further, by achieving this state of mind voluntarily, you will have increased your intimacy with, and understanding of, your own conscious processes. You’ll feel more at home in your mind and body.

Lastly, it’s helpful to remember that, at its essence, meditation is not merely a practice or a technique, but a way of being. In particular, it involves being completely present with what you experience, whatever those experiences may be. To the extent that you are able to experience this state on a daily basis, your meditation practice has been quite successful, and you will feel the resultant benefits of greater clarity, equanimity, and insight.

Enjoy your practice, and feel free to contact me with any questions or feedback about your experience.

I’m especially impressed by Andrew Schwartz’s kickoff essay on Chapter 3 (“Cultivating Attention”), which elegantly lays out a number of ideas to which any Rand admirer worth his weight in dog-eared paperbacks should pay attention.

Here’s an excerpt:

Finally, Buddhism includes a sophisticated psychological understanding of barriers to attention, and, viewing attention as a skill, includes sophisticated tools and methods for dismantling these barriers and achieving greater attention over time. The tradition has a sophisticated conceptualization of how experience leads to complex conditioned habit patterns that cannot simply be squashed, but must be gently attended to in order to be understood and dissolved.

Objectivism’s cognitive theory of psychology on the other hand — encapsulized by the notion that one’s ideas determine one’s emotional responses — is somewhat simplistic, and provides little understanding or technology for improving focus over time. Rand generally advocates in her fiction a rather authoritarian means of dealing with one’s perceived irrational emotional reactions (Roark wants to blast through his painful emotions like he does the rock in the quarry).

This authoritarian means of dealing with emotions was once expressed in more extreme form by a very prominent orthodox objectivist, who said in my presence that the proper way to deal with irrational emotional reactions is (and I’m quoting almost word for word), “to get angry at them and to yell at them. You say, ‘No! You’re wrong!’ And you have to keep doing that over and over again, until you actually kill the response.”

Given all these considerations — Buddhism’s conception of attention as an already present capacity to be uncovered and stabilized, its recognition of the possibility of attention that becomes self-sustaining, its treatment of attention as a skill to be acquired and improved over time, and its conceptualization of the barriers to attention in emotional reactivity and its useful methods for dismantling these barriers and cultivating attention — I would say we Objectivists can learn much from the Buddhists on the issue of Attention/Focus.

Go Andrew!