I used to be insane. I don't mean clinically, of course; I allude to the kind of insanity that hides in plain sight, looking perfectly normal as I order a venti chai from the local coffee shop. Little did the barista know that my mind ran amok with judgements, desires, fears, and a myriad of self-conscious doubts scurrying, like a hundred tiny creatures, into dark corners and hidden crevices if my attention were to linger on them for too long.
Attention, as I was to learn, is actually who I am. Shining the light of attention on doubts and fears is an illuminating exposure, like a spotlight on a blemish dotting the smooth surface of perfection.
Knowledge begets clarity, while forgetfulness resides in confusion.
But I jump ahead.
It wasn't ‘til as a young man I was introduced to meditation. Despite the guidance of my somewhat sophomoric teachers, a stir inside knew this practice to be worthwhile, so I continued. Some years went by, and a group pilgrimage to India was organized, to visit the Motherland of meditation and the sages sharing wisdom and highest awareness with their students from across the world. Little did I know a beautiful being was awaiting me in the ancient Himalayas, who touched my heart deeply with his wisdom, joy, and insight.
He introduced meditation as the most simple practice, one of watching the space of your own Self. I had heard this all before of course, even from the teachers in whose company I was at that very moment. Yet something about this man, speaking in clear and uncomplicated words, went deep inside my turbulent mind, shining a light that was inoffensive to the fearful creatures dwelling within. I was literally able to watch, in a calm and undisturbed way, the modifications of my mental conditions. A fear would arise: the attention would watch without concern, and the fear would eventually subside. A desire might appear, or an action-packed scenario imagined: the watcher would allow it to come, and allow it to fade equally. No subtle movement towards the story nor push against... simply watching.
His knowledge was simple, and he shared it ceaselessly, aware that ~ just as a child learns his ABC's by repetition ~ he would literally imprint the knowledge of meditation on our undeveloped crazy minds. And he was right, of course. Sitting with this enlightened being day in and day out, listening to his words and being repeatedly absorbed in the sublime space of Satsang or Truth created that same space within each of us. The light of meditation would eventually dawn within every visitor, and they were reminded that their own essential Self is a natural light of clarity, which watches both brilliance and lunacy with equal ease and equanimity. The longer I continued with meditation, the less a victim I was to my own ignorance, and the less forgetful I was of my true essence.
That was the gift of Guruji, and the gift of meditation. Even after innumerable years in an ever-deepening practice, that same initial lesson remains unchanged, inscribed within my Chitt, my mind.
The watcher is ever-present, and ever-pure. The insanity of the waking state mind may seem impermeable, but the simple, inescapable fact remains: *I* am the one watching the insanity and sanity alike. The activity, the waves of the mind may rise and may subside, and still *I* am the same watcher.
Place the attention on the attention, drink chai with ease, and know that that awareness is forever unchanging, unmovable, peace.
"Say what you like. I have no history." It goes without saying that Sukhveer / Brian Borg is a profoundly aware and compassionate being... and the one thing we know for sure is that he's ever-smiling! Find him at: firstname.lastname@example.org