I remember that when I first started to practice meditation, I felt somewhat embarrassed to talk about it, even with my closest friends. Since it was not a very widespread activity, discussion was reserved for more private settings, where you were not exposed to anyone’s judgment.
In contrast, meditation is so fashionable nowadays that you could say that one must be familiar with some of the multiple varieties of exercises included under the label of meditation in order to be up to date. In the business world, meditation is used to avoid or overcome stress and to improve performance. Artists and all types of content creators meditate to create real, extraordinary works; sportspersons use it to break their records; religious people, to understand God’s word. And almost everyone expects to reach a state of calm, mental clarity and emotional control through meditation. Nowadays, meditation appears to be a panacea to improve our results and achieve spiritual peace.
Undoubtedly, the current favorable inclination towards the practice of meditation, instead of the ignorance or rejection it produced in the past, makes it easier for many to approach an experience that could change their lives. However, when I talk with someone about our respective experiences with meditation, it sometimes seems to me that we’re not talking about the same thing. This has led me to once again ask myself what the meditation exercise I practice every day means to me. Of course, I don’t want to claim that it’s the only possible exercise or even that it’s the best. I’ve been practicing it for over 30 years, and although I am familiar with other modalities and techniques, the affective meditation I learned in Cafh is so far the one that I feel is most deeply rooted in me. I still have a lot to learn and explore, but I completely trust that the continuous practice of this technique helps me to approach my daily life with a more expansive consciousness.
I don’t exactly know what others expect from meditation; I seek self-knowledge and transformation. I’m less interested in a meditation technique if it doesn’t allow me to know myself better and to change the aspects of my personality that hinder my freedom and limit my awareness. I look for a way of being in the world that goes beyond the search for power and possessing, to live in connection with Being. This is not easy to explain, nor for me to even fully understand, but it is what underlies my opinion that meditation is more a spiritual practice than a psychological one. And I think the affective meditation guides me towards that purpose.
Practicing this meditation requires constant effort and dedication. It is not simple, because it involves different dimensions of the human being, such as physical, emotional, mental and spiritual ones. It is learned little by little, with the support and guidance of someone with more experience, and of companions who are part of the same learning process and can share their impressions.
At some other time, we can explain in detail what the technique of affective meditation consists of, but let’s start with some key words that suggest how I personally try to daily approach the exercise: silence, openness, focus, consciousness, transformation and union.
Silence
Silence begins with finding a suitable place for reflection in my home, or wherever I may be, a place where I can remain isolated from noise and distractions. But I seek an even more important silence, one that involves my inner attitude instead of external conditions. Physically, I try to adopt a stable posture that allows me to ignore the subtle bodily demands that appear when I decide to be still for half an hour—such as itching, discomfort, stiffness, self-consciousness… Mentally, I try not to get caught up in thoughts that enter my field of attention without permission and lead me off into landscapes I don’t want to be in. Emotionally, I try to keep my feelings and other emotional reactions from hijacking me and demanding my attention at a time when I’m trying to connect with that part of me that is beyond my own external circumstances, my thoughts and my feelings. It is this threefold form of silence that, at the very least, I am interested in cultivating.
Openness
To meditate, I adopt an attitude of openness. Judging solely from the outside, it appears to be an exercise of isolation in which one withdraws from everything. However, by looking within oneself, one can establish a connection with something beyond oneself. Experience tells me that I am neither alone nor the center of the universe. I am part of a larger reality in which all beings are interconnected in a web of inscrutable connections, a reality that transcends me and I don’t understand, which is a mystery to me, but which challenges me.
In the meditation I practice, I begin with an invocation to the Divine Mother as a sign of openness. I don’t know what the Divine Mother is. I cannot and do not want to define it, but I know that I am grounded in that mysterious reality along with all other beings. Some prefer to call it God, Universe, Cosmic Consciousness. I care more about my relationship with That which transcends me and transcends everyone than I do about the name I give it.
Focus
Meditation doesn’t ask me to empty my mind—that’s beyond my reach—nor does it ask me to pay attention to my bodily sensations, to the ideas crowding my mind, or to the feelings that overwhelm me. That’s not how I understand mindfulness, but I’m not about to question whether others can do this. I try to direct my thoughts, feelings and will in a specific direction during the exercise, and I put aside everything that distracts me. I focus my attention on achieving effects that allow me to decide and act according to the meaning I give to my life. In this way, my mind, my heart, and my behavior are aligned with my reason for being.
Consciousness
In a certain basic sense, being conscious of something is having knowledge of it. There is no doubt that when we humbly and truthfully engage with our thoughts and feelings through meditation, we get to know ourselves a little better each time; that is, we become more aware of ourselves. But the idea of consciousness adds something else to that of knowledge. This could be called committed knowledge. It is not about accumulating information, but about aspiring to a wisdom that integrates what we know with what we feel and do through a coherent way of living.
Transformation
I seek to transform myself through meditation so that I can embody what I wish to see happening in the world. If I want to live in a peaceful world, I strive to be a peaceful person; if I want all human beings to work for a better world, I strive to dedicate myself to that purpose and efficiently commit myself to it. The change I aspire to is thus not superficial but essential. And that is why, I need to meditate. Meditation isn’t a balm I apply to relieve stress, to be more successful, or to gain admiration from others. I want to focus my mind and heart on what truly matters and not get lost in distractions. The endeavor is not trivial: for me, it is about opening my mind to break the beliefs that limit me; strengthening my heart to be true to my choice of freedom and responsibility, and aligning my way of being with a purpose that gives meaning to my life.
Union
Not just any purpose in life will do. I need to be aligned with my conviction that all beings are interrelated, interconnected. What affects me affects everyone else, and what affects everyone else affects me. The scope of my actions extends far beyond myself, and I will only achieve my full potential if I act according to this principle of unity. The will to unite is more interesting than the will to power, because it motivates me to seek co-realization and participation with everyone instead of self-realization. Separateness is a force born from the delusion that we exist, and that others exist outside of, and even opposite to, us. Separateness is an ally of the ego, while inclusion is an ally of the “we”. The destiny of humankind is unity. This faith fuels my need to meditate, because with this practice I delve into my self-awareness to know how far I am from union with the whole, but also to trust in a will that sustains me on the suitable path.
I am very clear that what has been said so far does not exhaust the rich variety of nuances of the different forms of meditation long practiced in different parts of the world. I have only intended to provide myself with a referential vocabulary that allows me to communicate with other people about my experience of meditation, as I live it, in order to learn to exchange ideas and suggestions with them.
