On Meditation

by Trudy Goodman

When I began my meditation life, it was a confirmation of what felt most true, in nature and in my own being, since childhood. Sitting was a way to align myself with the most powerful spiritual experiences I ever had up till then: childbirth, being a mother, and almost losing my child to a deadly illness.

In my twenties, I was already perplexed by my life. I had quickly done the things that were supposed to make people happy, (graduate, get married, become a parent). I wound up divorced; a very young, single working Mom. The question, how to love my child and my life, was huge for me. Children need such consistent and on-going loving attention. Sometimes when my life felt hard, I was overwhelmed with the usual emotions of twenty-somethings. I simply didn't know where to find the love and patience in me to give to my daughter.

It was on my meditation cushion that I learned how to trust and connect with this endless dimension life in some reliable way. It was through insight meditation and zazen that I began to feel truly at home in my own skin, in my own life. I began to know more and more deeply that we all inhabit the same big mind, that we are all amazing expressions of its endless intelligence and goodness.

Living alone, before and after work, whenever my daughter was busy or asleep, I spent lots of time sitting in meditation. Sitting allowed me to change what seemed like my sad karma of loneliness to the profound dharma of silence and solitude.

It has always seemed to me that for us human beings, how to love and respect one another is the most complex, subtle and often elusive koan of all. No matter how much peace and fulfillment we discover in our meditation life, it doesn't guarantee peaceful, contented relationships. And yet, meditative understanding that is not expressed in respectful, kind interactions with others is not worth much! So what IS the dharma, if doesn't bring love?

Years ago, my friend Janet was a monk living in a Zen center. It was her job to drive a revered old Japanese Zen teacher to upstate New York, a long ride. Feeling mischievous, she asked him to tell her the last koan in the long course of formal Zen study. Of course, it's silly to ask a Zen master the answer to a koan. It's worse than asking your professor to tell you what questions will be on the final exam. It defeats the whole purpose. The teacher rose to the occasion and said, "I will not tell you the last koan, but I will give you the answer to it. The answer is love."

In the words of the late great Theravadin monk, Nyaponika Thera, "to what a person brings attention, to that does the mind incline." We try to incline the mind and heart towards caring, towards understanding, towards freedom. Making a resolve, or vow is a powerful way to incline the mind and heart in your chosen direction.

In the Mahayana tradition, there are Bodhisattva Vows that express this intention to incline the mind towards the happiness and freedom of all. In Zen, they are called the Great Vows. Vows are called "great" when they are all inclusive, all embracing. They are great, when they serve family, community and international relationships, "fulfillment of all relations." "All" is the key word, no one left out, and that's what is so great about making this kind of effort. We can extend the threshold of our home, building a big, roomy, boundless home for our hearts.

What I like about the Buddhist cosmology is that all the various deities and figures, including the Buddha, are emblems, metaphors, for states of consciousness. They aren't a pantheon of beings outside of ourselves that we're supposed to worship. Actually, it's the opposite: they represent the splendid array of all the possible mind states we encounter in our meditation and in our everyday lives. One of the central characters is the bodhisattva, an awakening being who is devoted to spreading compassion and wisdom throughout the world.

The Buddha taught us to be a lamp unto ourselves, to be our own light. The Buddha, the bodhisattvas are like the Statue of Liberty, offering the possibility of refuge and freedom to those who are willing to leave their familiar territory in search of a loving, awakening life.