The Theravada Buddhist monk Ajahn Sona describes the mind as an untrained dog. You call it and it doesn’t pay attention. It wanders around and barks and scratches, and it’s completely unreceptive to your interaction, assuming you’ve actually gotten to the point where you can observe it instead of thinking that this untrained dog is who you are. Buddhist monks detail how meditation is essential to mitigating the problem. The knowledge they share can be transformative.
I find great value in meditation. It allows me to observe my thoughts without wandering into the past or imagining the future in delusional ways. I can also study thoughts dispassionately as impermanent and often unsatifying mental constructs. They can lead to real actions, of course, but the thoughts themselves are insubstantial until people give them meaning through action. I try not to allow negative thoughts any more authority than they deserve, especially given how damaging and pointless they can be. The National Science Foundation’s research indicates that 80% of our thoughts are negative and 95% of them are repetitive. This doesn’t speak well for the untrained dog. The average mind is perfectly capable of consistently actualizing positive thought and emotion.
Often, I’ll start a meditation by focusing on my breathing, which isn’t as easy as it might seem. If you haven’t already, try concentrating on your breathing for one minute and see how you do. Your thoughts will probably be wandering within five to ten seconds. The mind is unbelievably stubborn. It takes a lot of time and practice to control it. But once you calm it down, positive things happen through simple observation and clearer awareness. I think I like the Theravadan meditation approach even better, which means letting the mind, which is calm and expansive in its purest essence, simply be in that place and watch mental formations function in a pure, dispassionate manner, which can lead to non-dualistic perception. This isn’t empty metaphysical nonsense. Greater awareness proceeds naturally from the application of some basic mental strategies that anyone can follow.
A calm mind-body relationship means I spend far less time obsessing over the past and future. I realize that unhealthy mental constructions brought on by years of social conditioning are empty inventions. I’m less stressed or not stressed at all, and I can more easily regulate my behavior although I still do and probably always will lack patience. I’ve also chosen solitude as my preferred lifestyle while committing to a kinder and more generous disposition, which improves everyone’s day. By the way, I’m not implying that tragedy and sorrow can be avoided. They’re part of our experience. But there are skillful ways to deal with them.
Meditation as a defined practice has been around for thousands of years, so I haven’t said anything new, here, but more people should know how easy it is to learn some simple strategies for quieting the voices in their heads. The volition belongs to the person meditating. I was raised to believe that life is, at its core, a grim, deadly, serious struggle. My positive qualities were often masked by generalized upset and a sense of victimization. It took me many, many years to realize that relationships, career accomplishments, and social distractions don’t count for much when negative thoughts are constantly tormenting the mind. A quiet, calm mind is much easier to live with.
