The heading for this section is "Preparing to Meditate." Isn't that what the preceding section is about--getting yourself in the right mindset to meditate? Yes and no. "It is impossible to learn how to meditate from a book," Foster says bluntly. "We learn to meditate by meditating." He says over and over in this book that learning about a spiritual discipline is only the doorstep: you have to take the brake off your wheels and do it, and possibly fail, and learn thereby, and do it again.
But we don't have to begin by rediscovering first principles on our own. "Simple suggestions at the right time, however, can make an immense difference." He emphasizes that these are only suggestions derived from the experience of the believers who have gone before us. "They are not laws nor are they intended to confine you."
The first suggestion is to schedule your meditation. "When a certain proficiency has been attained in the inner life, it is possible to practice meditation at any time and under almost every circumstance," but we paddle before we can dive. Foster immediately cautions us not to stop there, however. The goal is for meditation, or "contemplative prayer," to become "a twenty-four-hour-a-day job." This does not require a tremendous feat of asceticism! Simply, as you get better at meditation, it's easier not to stop meditating as you go about your day. And this is part of living fully in the entire real world. The real world should not be diced into pieces. Life isn't "this part of the day for spirituality, that part for cooking." It's all one thing.
Foster's next word of advice collides, as we have seen before in this book, with the steadily worsening plight of the average American reader since first publication. He speaks of "holy leisure," an ancient practice of deliberately ordering of one's life in order to prevent "constantly being swept off our feet with frantic activity" and thus enable meditation and other spiritual disciplines. But we cannot stop being "harassed and fragmented by external affairs" if we have no power to demand to be left in peace. We are even induced to inflict this harassment on ourselves: our minds are infected with "[the] tendency to define people in terms of what they produce." Imagine practicing democracy in the pursuit of holy leisure for yourself and others. What might that look like for you? As food for thought, here is Foster's full definition of holy leisure: "a sense of balance in the life, an ability to be at peace through the activities of the day, an ability to rest and take time to enjoy beauty, an ability to pace ourselves." I will say no more on this topic except to urge you to be local, practical, physical, incremental, and persistent--like the mothers and fathers of the Church from whom Foster takes inspiration.
Beside a time for meditation, we need a place. Of course an experienced practicioner can meditate anywhere. Foster advises beginners to settle on a particular spot. It should be "quiet and free from interruptions" from both near and far, so silence your phone, and if at all possible be alone in the place. I know people who choose to stay up late in order to get some solitude. A possible alternative, if you can get no privacy but you have comfortable headphones and an ad blocker, is to use one of the many multi-hour repetιtive music tracks available for free online. These are often captioned with extravagant promises about wealth or chakras or what have you, but what counts is their ability to hang a curtain between you and the rest of the room. "If it is possible to find some place that looks out onto a lovely landscape, so much the better." If you can't, I suggest setting your monitor or phone screen to a photo or painting of a landscape or garden. Or use a poster. Avoid abstraction and symbolism: immediate perception is better for this than puzzling out layers of meaning.
An aside: If you find yourself terrified of solitude and silence because of things your mind does to you when you are not distracted, there is hope. I spent several years unable to bear waking life without the radio on. If you can't afford therapy, look for online communities of people who support one another after diagnoses with anxiety, intrusive thoughts, PTSD, and so forth. Take a couple of weeks to lurk (read without commenting) and study their archives as well. If the community topic does not seem to fit your situation, ask community members for advice on where to go next. Sooner or later you will find a community that "clicks" and you will be able to lean on the gathered wisdom of people who have been there also. I am free of the fear of silence now. You can be too.
We meditate with our minds, but of course our minds are seated in bodies. So what about posture? It seems irrelevant, but Foster reminds us that "the body, the mind, and the spirit are inseparable" whether we notice this connection or not. "I actually have witnessed people go through an entire worship service vigorously chewing gum without the slightest awareness of their deep inner tension." Adjusting the body promotes awareness in the mind and frees the spirit. So is there an ideal posture? The ideal for you is one that is comfortable for you to stay in for some time. You might find that with a landscape at hand you want to close your eyes after all. That's fine.
Foster does not mention this and may not have been aware of it when he wrote this book, but moving meditation may be easier than still meditation if you have chronic pain. You don't have to study an entire system of moving meditation, such as yoga or tai chi, although that might be helpful. Use the exercises that help your pain, sticking to those that you have memorized without the need to consult a diagram. Switch from one to another as your body indicates, leaving your mind and spirit free to meditate.
The next post will at last show us the details of a meditation session.
But we don't have to begin by rediscovering first principles on our own. "Simple suggestions at the right time, however, can make an immense difference." He emphasizes that these are only suggestions derived from the experience of the believers who have gone before us. "They are not laws nor are they intended to confine you."
The first suggestion is to schedule your meditation. "When a certain proficiency has been attained in the inner life, it is possible to practice meditation at any time and under almost every circumstance," but we paddle before we can dive. Foster immediately cautions us not to stop there, however. The goal is for meditation, or "contemplative prayer," to become "a twenty-four-hour-a-day job." This does not require a tremendous feat of asceticism! Simply, as you get better at meditation, it's easier not to stop meditating as you go about your day. And this is part of living fully in the entire real world. The real world should not be diced into pieces. Life isn't "this part of the day for spirituality, that part for cooking." It's all one thing.
Foster's next word of advice collides, as we have seen before in this book, with the steadily worsening plight of the average American reader since first publication. He speaks of "holy leisure," an ancient practice of deliberately ordering of one's life in order to prevent "constantly being swept off our feet with frantic activity" and thus enable meditation and other spiritual disciplines. But we cannot stop being "harassed and fragmented by external affairs" if we have no power to demand to be left in peace. We are even induced to inflict this harassment on ourselves: our minds are infected with "[the] tendency to define people in terms of what they produce." Imagine practicing democracy in the pursuit of holy leisure for yourself and others. What might that look like for you? As food for thought, here is Foster's full definition of holy leisure: "a sense of balance in the life, an ability to be at peace through the activities of the day, an ability to rest and take time to enjoy beauty, an ability to pace ourselves." I will say no more on this topic except to urge you to be local, practical, physical, incremental, and persistent--like the mothers and fathers of the Church from whom Foster takes inspiration.
Beside a time for meditation, we need a place. Of course an experienced practicioner can meditate anywhere. Foster advises beginners to settle on a particular spot. It should be "quiet and free from interruptions" from both near and far, so silence your phone, and if at all possible be alone in the place. I know people who choose to stay up late in order to get some solitude. A possible alternative, if you can get no privacy but you have comfortable headphones and an ad blocker, is to use one of the many multi-hour repetιtive music tracks available for free online. These are often captioned with extravagant promises about wealth or chakras or what have you, but what counts is their ability to hang a curtain between you and the rest of the room. "If it is possible to find some place that looks out onto a lovely landscape, so much the better." If you can't, I suggest setting your monitor or phone screen to a photo or painting of a landscape or garden. Or use a poster. Avoid abstraction and symbolism: immediate perception is better for this than puzzling out layers of meaning.
An aside: If you find yourself terrified of solitude and silence because of things your mind does to you when you are not distracted, there is hope. I spent several years unable to bear waking life without the radio on. If you can't afford therapy, look for online communities of people who support one another after diagnoses with anxiety, intrusive thoughts, PTSD, and so forth. Take a couple of weeks to lurk (read without commenting) and study their archives as well. If the community topic does not seem to fit your situation, ask community members for advice on where to go next. Sooner or later you will find a community that "clicks" and you will be able to lean on the gathered wisdom of people who have been there also. I am free of the fear of silence now. You can be too.
We meditate with our minds, but of course our minds are seated in bodies. So what about posture? It seems irrelevant, but Foster reminds us that "the body, the mind, and the spirit are inseparable" whether we notice this connection or not. "I actually have witnessed people go through an entire worship service vigorously chewing gum without the slightest awareness of their deep inner tension." Adjusting the body promotes awareness in the mind and frees the spirit. So is there an ideal posture? The ideal for you is one that is comfortable for you to stay in for some time. You might find that with a landscape at hand you want to close your eyes after all. That's fine.
Foster does not mention this and may not have been aware of it when he wrote this book, but moving meditation may be easier than still meditation if you have chronic pain. You don't have to study an entire system of moving meditation, such as yoga or tai chi, although that might be helpful. Use the exercises that help your pain, sticking to those that you have memorized without the need to consult a diagram. Switch from one to another as your body indicates, leaving your mind and spirit free to meditate.
The next post will at last show us the details of a meditation session.