A week ago I posted a Dutch blog on facebook and wrote this statement: Ik schrijf voor mijzelf. Voel je vrij te lezen wat ik schreef.
Now I start writing this blog I feel that I want to add this statement here too: I am writing for myself. Please feel free to read along.
Yesterday and today, (that was 8 and 9 of December), I have been meditating in this Jain place that I mentioned before somewhere.
(For sure three years ago in the blog Pyramide-energie in India!).
They have a meditation hall at the second floor where you sit under a copper pyramid hood.
I have been there three years ago. It was again special.
And this time I made a picture:
Yesterday I found myself, while sitting cross legged, being bend over, head low and in a way at the end of a thought stream annex feeling state. It happened all the time and it felt as if it took only a minute or so from finding myself there, sitting up till straight, wondering what happened, asking myself what had started this cycle of bending over and finding nothing but ‘startle’. My intention to focus on ‘catching’ what would set this in motion did not bring anything and it kept happening.
It was also noted that the usual quiet was in a way more active.
By the end of what I thought to be about one hour,I tried to find words for what the inner experience was like.. Sentences were formed, a bit like this: although dark and quiet, there is a lot of hardly noticeable movements and thus also hardly noticeable differences in the blackness. The metaphor of a dark boiling volcano came up. So, there was a endless, infinite amount of moving particles, all in a kind of pitch grey, very dark grey, almost pitch black grey. And in the movement there was the beginning of a hint of forms. By association only. And so quick and vague that no names could be attached to any of it specifically. So the question floated along if what was perceive was vritti? Or pre vritti? Or no vritti at all?
Also there was a strong knowing that each and every particle of this blackish cloud that formed my inner field of experience was in and of itself a fully zipped amount of information.
I just found an old article in a book I started reading for the second time, after a first attempt last time in India, but then I was suddenly in the spell of a Swami with a long series of lectures. (See: hansvandergugten.nl/?p=4728 ).
It is in Dutch, but Google translate will help you out: https://www.nrc.nl/nieuws/2017/01/20/heel-het-heelal-is-informatie-6303827-a1542233
So, it basically states the possibility that information is the building stuff of the universe. And next to a picture of a black hole it says: every bit of information that disappears in a black hole, can be traced back on the surface of the black hole.
This was and is in a way how intense this quasi empty inner experience feels. Really empty? No way!
It can be, nowadays, empty from thoughts.
And, the emptier it becomes, the fuller it turns out to be.
Enfin, when I stopped sitting, I saw that i had been there for 2 hours and 15 minutes. Time is a bitch.
By the way, I have acquired my favourite India tea bags and happened to see on the side of the package a quote of a kind of familiar guy: “Real silence is when you have a quiet mind, even when you are speaking.” Papaji, Sri H.W.L. Poonja
There is a touch of machismo in this statement me thinks.
And apparently it sells tea nowadays!
END OF INTERMEZZO.
Today again 2 hours and 15 minutes. The loop from yesterday was gone. So, a good and quiet sit on the volcano again. And also evaluating thinking came along. Nice.
One of the things that was noted was that there was a movement in the field of experience from the right to the left, very slowly, but clearly so. It made me wonder if even that direction could be conditioned by the habit of reading from left till right. Could it be that the Chinese have a different movement there?
Also been playing with attention. What is it?
First of all there is a noticing of what is going on. Then a specific part can be noticed and that observation comes with the realization that the noticing of part of the field could also happen elsewhere in the field.
(Just put in while typing:The part that got the attention got it by some movement in its direction, this movement was also noticed and that what moved we call attention).
Jut this thought opens up the posibility and maybe even the ability to move the ‘attention’ around.
Also it is noticed that in a way the center of the observation seems to be in the middle and at the level of the eyes.
Then playing with this happened. Zooming in, zooming out. Looking around with the eyes closed. Trying too lower the level of the seeing point. Observing that there is actually no difference between feeling, seeing and hearing. Those differences seem to come from having learned things in daily life, about senses and stuff.
Practically it all seems to appear a unzipped particles off the surface of the cold bubbling volcano.
While at the same time there is a fully clear awareness that sounds were coming from another floor of the building where a marriage had started off, and the bass sounds were being felt as a trembling in the body, the trembling being transported both through the building itself and through the air. (Ha, this is again daily life knowledge).
Recently I wrote a letter to someone and almost as an excuse for having to write her this letter in order to set something minutely straight, I wrote (about myself):
Being oversensitive is a form of precision.
END OF INTERMEZZO 2.
Oh, one more thing, after all this meditative and playful looking into what bubbled up from the volcano, at some point the famous question came up: who is aware of all this?
“It’s me, it’s me, it’s me o Lord” is of course the answer. And then, after almost two decades of conditioning in that direction, the other famous question comes up: who are you?
By now grinning, (“the grinning meditator, image?), the current answer comes: it’s me!
Of course it is me. Who else could it be?
[Human consciousness needs a human body/mind to be recognized as such, the recognizing entity is called a person].
So far, so good.
PS. I am already for long been busy trying to come up with a reflective piece of text about almost 20 years of satsang.
The working title is:
Memories and musings of a counter dogmatician.
At the moment the structure seems to be going to be something like an introduction first, followed by a maximum of 108 separate pieces that will all start with: I am.
There is a grinning meditator here: http://www.lenadamvar.com/project/meditation/
And one more from here: http://www.thewayofmeditation.com.au/blog/it-turns-out-enlightenment-is-just-having-a-really-good-sense-of-humour/