Last night, during our weekly meditation and mindfulness session, we talked about how we might flow a little more harmoniously with our lives.
One thing that came to mind was the exploration of what in Zen we call emptiness.
Emptiness can sound like a complicated or abstract idea, but perhaps we can begin quite simply. When we look closely at our experience, can we find anything that exists completely independently, with a fixed and unchanging identity?
Our bodies change. Our thoughts change. Our emotions, opinions and beliefs change. What we experience now is influenced by countless things that have happened before: people we have met, things we have learned, experiences we have had, the condition of the body, what happened yesterday or even five minutes ago.
So what about this person I call “me”? Am I something fixed, solid, self-standing, independent and separate?
Most of us probably have some sense of identity. We have ideas about the kind of person we are, what we like and dislike, what we are good or bad at, where we belong and how other people see us. There is nothing necessarily wrong with any of this. We need some way of navigating our lives.
But perhaps difficulties arise when we hold these ideas too tightly.
I am this kind of person.
I could never do that.
They shouldn’t treat me like this.
This should not be happening.
At some point, something that was simply an idea about ourselves or about the situation can begin to feel very solid indeed.
This leads me to questions I find much more useful than trying to understand emptiness as a philosophical concept: Where do I get stuck? When and why do I feel disharmony?
When things don’t seem to flow, when I notice that I am struggling, feeling pushed or pulled, or wanting to escape what is happening, perhaps I can pause for a moment.
What am I holding on to?
Is there an idea about myself, another person or the situation that I am treating as fixed?
I don’t necessarily have to get rid of it. Perhaps I can simply notice it and see what happens.
The same applies to the contents of the mind. Thoughts arise. Ideas arise. Beliefs, explanations and interpretations arise. Some are useful and some aren’t. They also change.
Do I need to make something out of every one of them?
Sometimes I don’t know what is happening. Sometimes I don’t understand myself, another person or a situation. My instinct may be to solve that uncertainty as quickly as possible.
But perhaps not knowing can also be explored.
It may be comfortable. It may not. Not knowing can bring confusion, worry or fear. Those experiences can also be noticed without immediately having to turn them into an answer.
This doesn’t mean that we stop thinking or trying to understand things. Thinking is useful. Understanding is useful. We need both to live our lives.
But perhaps we don’t have to become trapped by every conclusion the mind produces.
We can look again.
The person I thought I was yesterday may not be exactly the person sitting here today. The situation I was certain about may look different tomorrow. Even the thought that seems so important at this moment will probably disappear and be replaced by another one.
So perhaps flowing more harmoniously isn’t about achieving some permanently harmonious state. Life will still contain resistance, confusion, uncertainty and change.
Perhaps it begins with noticing where we become fixed.
Look at the body. Look at thoughts, emotions, beliefs and the person you call yourself.
Can you find something there that is completely fixed and solid?
