Meditation without Aggression
Gentle self-compassion may be the most important element of contemplative practice
A Buddhist friend of mine, who is a meditation teacher, once said something to me that I don’t think I’ll ever forget. We were talking about how people struggle with meditation (or its Christian counterpart, Centering Prayer).
“The problem is,” my friend pointed out, “most Americans meditate aggressively.”
Fascinated by this observation, I asked him to explain what he meant.
“You teach people the simple steps of meditation — holding the body in a comfortable but engaged posture, resting the attention on the breath or a sacred word, and returning to that attention whenever intrusive thoughts arise. It’s simple, really. But people get angry at how relentless those intrusive thoughts can be, or how easy it is to get lost in a daydream. So a subtle impulse can arise, to be aggressive or even hostile toward the stream of thought.”
I immediately knew what he was describing; indeed, I have seen this very dynamic in my own practice. “We’re perfectionists, aren’t we?” I mused to my friend.
“Of course,” he nodded. “We can’t tolerate the feeling that we are somehow failing to meditate well, just because our mind wanders. So rather than being gentle and kind as we repeatedly bring our attention back to the silence, we get annoyed and frustrated and that seeps into our experience of the practice.
“Then, when we are done, we are left with feelings of frustration or irritation, rather than appreciation of the slow work that meditation does on our hearts and minds. And if we have too many days marked by that sense of frustration, eventually we give up on the practice altogether.”
“Yes, and at that point, the aggression wins. We all know that a meditation practice is good for us, physically as well as spiritually. So isn’t it just yet another subtle act of aggression toward one’s self to renounce a practice that is so beneficial, just because we find it difficult or annoying?”
I sat silently, reflecting on his words. “So what do we do? How do we avoid this temptation to push so hard, or to be so self-critical?”
My friend thought for a moment. “I suppose the key is awareness. Knowing that we are prone to be so self-hostile is an important first step, even though it is rather humbling to admit. But if we can see that we have a tendency to metaphorically beat ourselves up for meditating ‘poorly,’ then we have a greater opportunity to choose compassion instead. Even in the midst of a silent meditation practice, we have agency — we can make a choice. If a stream of distracting thoughts leads to feelings of irritation, this too can be released, just like we release the thoughts themselves. We simply let it go. We breathe, and we smile (as Thich Nhat Hanh would say). Feelings of irritation or annoyance or frustration are just more ways we distract ourselves. So the invitation is always to the same response: silence, a gentle breath, a return to the sacred word. No need to struggle, no need to fight. Simply be. Simply relax. Simply accept.”
I smiled ruefully. “It sounds great in theory, but I know for myself, the temptation to get activated even during meditation is so strong. It’s almost like sleepwalking. I feel some annoyance, and immediately, before I’ve had a chance to think about it or reflect on it, I’m telling myself a story about how I’m no good at this, I’m a failure, I’ll never be any good at meditation, and so forth.”
My Buddhist friend nodded. “These are patterns of suffering, and unfortunately they are so deeply ingrained in all of us. You can’t turn an ocean liner around on a dime. Learning to be compassionate rather than harsh toward ourselves takes time. It’s helpful to remember to be gentle with ourselves as we are taking this necessary time.”
This conversation took place years ago, and yet it continues to inspire me — and invite me to be more gentle with myself when I meditate or pray. I wish I could say that I quickly mastered the art of deep kindness in meditation, but the truth is closer to this: I have begun to practice deep kindness in meditation, with some days being easier than others. I still have much to learn. I still often watch as my centering prayer practice gets swamped by anxious or racing thoughts. It is a process to learn to meet my ordinary/imperfect practice with kindness and acceptance. But I do believe I am making progress, so each day I return to my cushion and I enter into the silence again. May we all do so, with curiosity and compassion rather than criticism and aggression.
