Better

I took another carload of stuff from our storage unit to Wife's place today.  (You remember the last two times I did this, here and here.)  And it was better this time.

I had e-mailed her yesterday that I'd be coming up, so it wasn't a surprise.  (Shouldn't have been anyway, at this point.)  She invited me in to give me some paperwork to take care of ... bills to pay for some of her medications.  We talked a little bit about how to plan next weekend, when both Hogwarts and Durmstrang have their Commencement ceremonies, and when Son 1 graduates from high school.  And I asked to borrow a book.

The book was The Cloud of Unknowing, something she had acquired as a graduate student in medieval literature many years ago.  I was interested because the fellow who led the meditation retreat last Christmastime had mentioned it as being all about meditation ... though it is usually advertised as a classic of Christian mystical spirituality.  Anyway, she located the book and we talked about meditation for a few minutes.

Wife started by saying that people had tried to teach her to meditate in the past but she assumed that she had failed at it because she could never get her mind to go blank.  I replied, "Well of course it won't go blank. The brain is an organ, just like your heart or your adrenal gland. The job of the adrenal gland is to produce adrenalin and the job of the brain is to produce thoughts. The job of the heart is to pump blood and the job of the brain is to think. The only way any of these is going to stop is when you die."

I went on to explain that the idea behind meditation isn't to stop your thoughts but just to be aware or watch them as if from the outside.  Sit in the audience and watch your thoughts parade on stage, so you can see what it is that you are actually thinking about.  Then after a while maybe you'll get an insight into why you keep thinking about this or that. 

Wife remarked that she has been praying daily, and this is what she finds in prayer: her thoughts always meander.  That's fine, I said.  When you get to the point that you want to train your mind just a little more, the way to do it is to treat it like a highly energetic three-year-old.  Don't berate yourself or set impossible standards.  Just ask your mind, "Why don't you come over here and sit by me for a while?"  It will ... for maybe a few seconds ... and then will start racing around again.  OK fine, just smile at it and suggest softly, "Why don't you come over here and sit down with me again?"  Repeat as needed.  Your mind will never stay in one place very long, but over time it may become less frantic and agitated.  And as you watch yourself think, you may get some more insight into what kinds of things preoccupy you.  With luck this could, in turn, help you understand yourself a little bit more.

Wife said she was glad to hear this.  It made her not feel such a failure at meditating, and maybe she could put to use in prayer some of what I'd told her about meditation.  Sure, why not?

It was a short visit, but all in all a very calm, civilized, and grown-up one.  And I'm grateful.