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Guided Meditation: Not Now; Maybe Not

Hello everyone, and I spread my warm wishes, best wishes to all of you in all directions, from here and all around the globe. So thank you for being part of this.

The topic of this week is delusion, and I think it's helpful to keep in mind, or consider at least, that delusion—the way it operates in a conscious way—is through thoughts, through the thinking mind. We have ideas. Delusion has to do with ideas of what's there, whether it's verbal ideas or we have imagery of things. Some people think more in images than in words.

We'll talk more later about how to practice with delusion, but for now, I'd like to keep it very simple, because simplicity is what can help us see delusion. When the mind is complicated with lots of thoughts and ideas, it's much harder to see. It's kind of like a piece of cloth which is filled with stains; it's hard to see one more stain. But if the cloth is stain-free, then a single stain stands out. So a simple mind sees more clearly what's going on, because we can see when things arise, when things appear.

And so, in that delusion has its connection with thinking, I want to offer a very simple practice around thinking today. And that is, as you meditate, if or when you have thoughts, you notice yourself thinking. This is an important part of mindfulness: to notice we're thinking. Sometimes we use the mental note "thinking, thinking," or we just clearly are aware of thinking and then return to the breathing. But today, when you notice yourself thinking, gently, perhaps lovingly, say two words. And those two words are "not now." Just gently, "not now."

Now is not the time to be involved in this thinking. Now is the time for a quieter, calmer awareness that is not thought-based. So maybe it's sensation-based or sensing-based or observing-based. Just kind of perceiving more directly, not through the medium of discursive thought, not through the medium of conversational thought, or analytical thought, or story thought. And so when this more active thinking of discursive thoughts and train of thinking begins, just tell yourself, "Not now. Not now." And then about halfway through, I'll offer two other words, we'll switch to something else, but for now, just "not now."

If you have long periods of time when you're not really involved in thinking, then you don't have to say those words. But when you find yourself, "Oh, now I've been thinking, I'm swept, I'm pulled into that world," "not now." And kind of step back, step away, and then return to your breathing. Stay with the physical sensations of the body breathing, and when the next thinking comes up, "not now." And if you have to say "not now" every two seconds, because thoughts just keep coming, do so gently, lovingly, so that "not now" is a balm for the mind and heart, a medicine. So that the "not now" is a calming, reassuring offering of some degree of ease, of peace, of equanimity to what's there. So you're not fighting your thoughts. Just "not now." And that repetition of "not now"—that different relationship to thinking than you normally would have, where maybe we get pulled into it or you believe it or react to it—maybe something will begin to shift.

So taking an upright posture, metaphorically or literally, and gently close your eyes.

Taking a few long, slow, deep breaths, and as you exhale, imagine that you're letting your concerns and your thoughts drift away. As you exhale, let those drift away and you settle into your body, breathing in, breathing out. And then letting your breath return to normal. And for the next four or five exhales, continue to relax, open your body wherever it's possible to soften and relax.

And then settling into your breathing. Settling into the rhythm of breathing in and breathing out. Settling into the body's experience of breathing, so you don't have to be up in the control tower watching or controlling. It's almost like awareness is centered in the body, in the body's experience of breathing.

And then in a way that seems peaceful, or peacemaking even, tell yourself the words, "not now." See if you can say those words in your mind, a quiet, calm inner voice: "Not now." And when you begin thinking, gently say those words. "Not now" means this is not a time for those thoughts; they can be picked up later. "Not now." Without ambition or forcefulness, without even expecting thinking to stop. And if thinking continues, just gently say it again and again, allowing there to be an openness, a peacefulness in the moment after saying it. A moment of open awareness. And when there's no more thinking, or the thinking is not compelling, return to your breathing.

And then to offer you two other words that you can say instead of "not now," you can say the words, "maybe not." These words can still carry the meaning of "not now"—maybe they can be short for "maybe not now." But also they can mean, "Maybe it isn't so. Maybe it's not true. Maybe not." So as you find yourself thinking, peacefully say the words, "Maybe not. Maybe it isn't so." Then allow yourself to become free of whatever those thoughts are, and begin again with your breathing.

And then as we come to the end of the sitting, take a moment to let go and do nothing. Including not even thinking. Nothing you have to do or be or become. Just a few moments here of letting yourself rest as deeply as your psychophysical system can rest at this moment. Or maybe just putting to rest the effort to do, or to meditate, or to be, or to figure anything out.

And then to bring your attention to the part of your body where your goodwill lives, where love, care, compassion, or kindness is born. The part of your body that resonates with it, or vibrates, or opens in the presence of loving-kindness. And putting aside any thoughts that interfere with your basic, simple goodwill, including the thought that it's not here now. And turning your gaze to the world around you, to the people in your lives, in your communities, across your lands, around the globe. And wishing them well.

What a wonderful world it would be if people were happy and peaceful, if they weren't motivated by their anger, hostility, greed, and fear. What a wonderful world it would be for all of us if the heart was motivated by its happiness. And so to wish welfare and happiness for all beings: May all beings be safe. May all beings be peaceful and free. And may all beings be free of the delusions that give birth to fear and greed and hatred. May all beings be free of the delusions that keep them locked into their limited view of other beings. Free of delusions, may we all care for each other in this world. May all beings be happy.

Dharmette: Delusion (3 of 5) Practicing with Delusion

So the topic of today, the third talk on delusion, is practicing with delusion. It can be hard because sometimes part of the nature of delusion is to not know that we're deluded. Delusion kind of camouflages itself as truth, or as "this is the way things are." And so it can be hard to notice delusion, but it's possible to see delusion for what it is. It's possible to become free of delusion. And it's a really worthwhile goal because so much of the suffering of the world has some quality of suffering, and how we cause harm in the world has some connection to delusion.

First, it's helpful to have some wisdom that is an antidote to delusion, and there are many pieces of wisdom that are useful. I learned this as a Sufi story: A man came to a Sufi master with a ring and said, "Can you inscribe in this ring some piece of wisdom that's always useful for me?" A week later the man came back to get the inscribed ring, and it said, "This too will pass." So that simple expression, "this too will pass," can somehow cut through a certain delusion of permanence, or expectation that it should always be this way, or it will be this way, and it can free us up.

One of my favorite little stories about bringing wisdom comes from China. The way the story is approximately told (there can be many little variations) is there was a farmer who was quite old and frail and could barely eke out an existence on his farm. But he had a son, a strong young man who could certainly help a lot. They were still very poor, but their young son could do a lot of the work. And they had an old, weak donkey that somehow was their main way of plowing and taking care of the farm.

One day the donkey died, and the neighbors said, "Oh, this is terrible. I'm so sorry, this is a terrible thing, and you're so poor." And the old farmer says, "We shall see."

Then one day the son goes up into the mountains to collect firewood, and he finds a wild horse up there that's strong, a stallion, and is able to bring it back. The neighbors say, "Oh, you're so lucky." And the old man says, "We shall see."

As the son is training the horse, he falls off the horse and breaks his leg. The neighbors say, "Oh no, you're so unlucky." And the farmer says, "We shall see."

Then the local king recruits all the young men to go fight a hopeless war against a neighboring country. But because the son broke his leg, he's not recruited. The neighbors say, "Oh, you're so lucky that your son's not going off to war." And the farmer, of course, says, "We shall see."

So there's a wisdom to "we shall see," not to be caught in the conclusions we can make and think that this is the way it is. Bringing some wisdom—and there are many kinds of wisdom we can bring—only goes so deep. It's a nice medicine, it's a nice counterforce to our tendency toward delusion. But Vipassanā^[1] practice involves a deeper look at it.

I think of Vipassanā practice in relationship to delusion as a bit of a practice for people who are well-established in their mindfulness. Just developing mindfulness is an antidote to delusion because, as we develop the capacity to recognize moment by moment what's happening, we can recognize, "Oh, this is an emotion. I'm feeling sad, or happy, or angry, or peaceful." There's a freeing moment in that clear recognition, and we're not entangled so much. All the different beliefs and ideas we have that entangle us are put down, and that's a little protection from the delusive ways in which we're involved in our emotions and feelings.

The same thing happens with thoughts. As we learn to recognize we're thinking—just a simple label, "thinking, thinking," or "remembering," or "planning"—that clear recognition begins freeing us from the automatic way in which associations, beliefs, expectations, prejudice, and bias are involved in how we relate to our thoughts. The quick ways that we believe them, or we're horrified by them, and the compelling way we feel like we have to think, like it's necessary to think. Just noting, "Oh, thinking, thinking," is such a peaceful thing to do, but it can be so freeing.

As we begin finding this freedom and simplicity and strength in mindfulness, there comes a time when we're able to better and better notice the arising, the beginning of a particular idea. Because we can see it arise, we're not just lost in the sea of thoughts, we're not just being swept along in the great currents of many thoughts, but we see the birth of a thought. That is a fantastic place where we could question it. Where we say, "Is that so? Maybe not. Let's see." We can see, "Oh, that is a thought. It's just a thought. It's not necessarily true, it's not necessarily a reality."

For example, if you see a stranger, and somehow that stranger reminds you of a really strict elementary school teacher you had who you were really afraid of. The person looks like the teacher, and so the emotion comes up, and the thought comes up, "Oh, this is a dangerous person." If we're just going along and not noticing where these thoughts come from, and they just suddenly are there, it's easy for the mind to assume this is true and take it as being a true idea of what's out there. But if we can notice, "Oh, that person is dangerous—that thought arises," and we see it just as a thought, then it's a powerful moment to both question the thought ("Is it true?") but also to take a second look. To look again: "What is really there in front of me? Who is this person? I don't know who this person is. It looks like my elementary school teacher, let me take a good look." And in fact, I look carefully at the person, and the person seems quite friendly. Being able to see the arising of a thought, we can question it, we can not assign so much authority to every thought, and we're more likely to question in a healthy way what's there.

As we begin looking at these thoughts that arise, we begin recognizing some of them are regular patterns of the same kind of thinking. When people practice mindfulness a lot, they start seeing patterns of thoughts. Their pattern is that they always think the worst is going to happen, or they always think that people don't like them, or they always think that they should get what they want. When we start seeing patterns, we start realizing, "Wait a minute, this is just a belief I carry." And to always apply this belief onto all situations is a kind of delusion. It's an imposition of ideas on something which is not necessarily appropriate.

Then we can start looking at the pattern and say, "Oh, it has a quality of delusion to always be seeing through that filter." And then we can use our mindfulness to look deeper and see what's underneath that. What is the emotion that's driving that? Is there loneliness, is there insecurity, is there fear? Is there some kind of delusion of grandeur or wanting to create a sense of self that is a little bit of a fantasy? Some desires we have, some thoughts we have, come from a fantastical way in which we want to create an idea of who we are that is all good, or we create ideas about ourselves that are critical of ourselves.

Once we start seeing the patterns of thinking and delusion we have, we can start dropping down deeper into the emotional level and the places within that are the sources for why or how we think this way. Not by analyzing it, but we feel our way in. So practicing mindfulness of thinking in a deeper and deeper way connects us to the sources underneath where delusion is born. This also gives more freedom and a chance for something to resolve itself or release in a deeper and deeper way. Most delusions that we have have their genesis in some clinging, something we're attached to. Delusions without attachment generally are not as dangerous as delusions that we're very attached to.

There are a lot of words about how to practice with delusion, but the simplest way is to learn how to be mindful in the present moment, and to be able to track the flow of present-moment experiences we're having. So that in that flow of present-moment experiences, we see, "Well, there's the arising of a feeling or sensation, now there's a thought." And to have a settled mind that can watch this arising of thinking and then bring some wisdom to it. Maybe one of them is, "Maybe not. Maybe it's not this way." Or, "We shall see. Let's wait. Let's not come to some conclusion."

To learn how to have thoughts arise and not take them as being conclusive is a powerful way of popping the bubble of delusion, because the danger of delusion is often the authority we give them. And if we don't give them authority, it's easier to see them for what they are.

So, practice mindfulness, it's such a great thing. And if you feel like practicing mindfulness is too much work, it's in essence not really work. It's rather trusting that we can rest and be present for the deep capacity we have to be open, present, and aware of what is happening in the present. In that open and present awareness, we discover over time that this is the place of non-work, in a sense. Everything else is just a lot of work, a lot of agitation and stress in the mind. So enjoy your mindfulness, develop it, and let it become an intimate part of who you are. Thank you.