Contemplative Exploration
The Enjoyment of Awake Presence
In my writing, I am always inviting an embodied, contemplative, awareness-based, present moment exploration. This is different from a philosophical or analytical exploration in which we think or reason about ideas and concepts. There is certainly a place for that kind of thinking, but we can’t think our way to enlightenment here and now. (And by “enlightenment here and now,” I’m not pointing to some grandiose future attainment, but to the utter simplicity of presence itself.)
When we are fully, simply, wordlessly here as this open aware spacious presence, questions melt away. Have you noticed this? There is simply being. This presence is very rich and alive and wondrous. It is energetic and sensory, not conceptual.
The thinking mind, which is all that the mirage-like separate self (the “me”) really is, loves to get entangled in figuring things out: “What did Nisargadatta mean when he said this or that? Are some people totally permanently free of delusion? How does Zen differ from Advaita? What form of meditation is the best? Why is there suffering? Do we need a teacher?”
We can think endlessly about such questions—asking others for their opinion, searching in books or on the internet for the “correct” answer, and thinking, thinking, thinking, round and round and round.
There is a place, of course, for functional, creative or analytical thinking, and I’m not suggesting we should try to suppress or banish thinking. Thinking happens. Sometimes it is functional (e.g., why won’t the car start?); sometimes it is a kind of relatively harmless background hum like mentally chewing gum—thoughts popping up and passing through without the attention logging into them; and sometimes it is a huge form of useless suffering and confusion (e.g., I’ve ruined my life, you’ve ruined my life, life sucks, why is there suffering, etc.) And, of course, thinking and feeling are intimately connected, so these thoughts are typically accompanied by depressive or anxious feelings in the body that seem to confirm the stories the thoughts are spinning.
Just having these thoughts is not a problem if they are instantly seen for what they are—just habitual, conditioned thoughts—and if they pass through without the attention logging into them. The suffering and confusion is in believing the content of these thoughts, the things they assert, the stories they tell, the problems they insist need to be solved—and of course, also believing in and identifying as the separate, deficient “me” who seems to be at the center of such thoughts. When the attention is captured and hypnotized by all of that, that is suffering and confusion.
Meditative or contemplative inquiry, exploration and discovery is not a matter of thinking about ideas. It is not about believing ideas either. It is about a quality of open listening and attending, an energetic presence—seeing directly, dissolving into this open spaciousness, being this whole happening, just as it is. It involves sensing and awaring, not trying to analyze ideas or figure all this out. Of course, there is a place in life for critical thinking, which is a very important capacity. But spiritual exploration is in a different realm, at least for the most part.
If you have no idea what I’m talking about when I speak of presence, I would invite you to take time every day whenever it invites you to sit quietly doing nothing other than simply being here, present and aware, which you naturally always already are. Feel the breathing. Feel the sensations throughout the body. Listen to the sounds that show up. Listen without the labels or the judgments. Hear the whoosh-whoosh-whoosh of traffic or the caw-caw-caw of a crow as simply sound. (Yes, the labels may pop up, but simply let them go and listen to the sound itself).
When thoughts pop up, as they will, simply see them as thoughts and let them pass through. Notice the urge to think about something, if that urge arises, and if you can, simply feel that urge as sensation in the body. If you wake up from a train of thought and find you’ve been lost in a thought-dream-story, simply notice that this is gone now, and again give attention to the sensory, energetic experiencing of this new moment here and now. No need to judge yourself for having been caught up in thinking. It happens. Everything is allowed to be as it is, however it is.
Can you feel the spaciousness of this open awaring presence that you are? Can you feel that there is no separation, no division, no other in this vast wholeness? Yes, there is infinite variation and diversity, each form vividly itself, but can you sense that it is all showing up as one seamless happening?
If you don’t feel any of that, don’t worry. Just enjoy the sensations of breathing, the sounds of traffic, the cheep-cheep-cheep of a bird, the feeling of your feet on the ground, a tension in your neck, whatever is here. None of it is right or wrong, good or bad. And simply notice the habitual urge or tendency to think about all this, if it arises, and when you notice that urge, simply return, when you can, to sensing, awaring, feeling this present moment, this listening presence, this whole unfathomable and wondrous happening, just exactly as it is.
You may notice that it is ever-changing without ever moving away from the immediacy and present-ness of right here, right now. You may notice how everything, including your thoughts and intentions, arises by itself. If there is a burning question, you can explore it directly rather than by thinking about it. This is contemplative inquiry and exploration. This is also resting in and enjoying the simplicity of what is, being just this one bottomless moment, this presence-awareness, this aliveness that no concept can ever capture.
Stillness Speaks has just published more excerpts on their site from the chapter “Why Sit Quietly?” in my book Painting the Sidewalk with Water: Talks and Dialogues about Non-Duality, along with links to the past excerpts they have previously shared. The book was originally published in 2010, and New Sarum Press has recently brought out a new 2023 edition (same main text, new author preface, new cover design and color) :
LISTENING TO MY SUBSTACK ARTICLES: I’ve recently learned that you can listen to my Substack articles. They are being read not by me, but by some kind of sterile sounding artificial intelligence which drones on in a kind of rapid monotone, missing all the emphasis given by italics, mispronouncing words, and generally failing to convey the piece as I would want it conveyed. I can only imagine how it will ruin this particular article on contemplative exploration! But if you have a visual disability and this is your only option, it’s good to know it’s there. Otherwise, I would strongly urge you to avoid using it. If you do need it, you can access this feature only on the Substack app, and you do so by tapping on the headphones icon at the top of a post. An “Audio Options” menu will then appear. Again, it’s a poor rendering, but I support efforts to make things accessible to people with disabilities, so I’m glad they have it for those who need it.
‘Painting the sidewalk with water’. Beautiful
Thankyou 🙏🙏🙏