Through my years as an A.'.A.'. aspirant I practiced Raja yoga assiduously according to the requirements laid out in the outer college curriculum. This meant Asana from Probationer, adding Pranayama at Zelator, Dharana at Practicus and Dhyana at Dominus Liminus. My daily practice for several years was asana and pranayama every morning for perhaps 20 minutes, sometimes more or less. This type of meditation practice had some interesting effects but was generally a goal oriented practice; for example the goal of the Zelator is to be able to sit in asana for 1 hour, the goal of Dharana is one-pointed concentration on an object, and so on. These things, while they took time to learn were not that difficult to achieve for short periods of time after a few years of daily practice, and sitting in asana became second nature as the body became conditioned to it.
This form of practice had its desired effect, but it always left me with a sense of something off. I realised after many years that the act of meditation itself, with its goal of samadhi, had somehow missed the real point. Perhaps I was approaching it with the wrong attitude, but Crowley talked a lot about 'getting' samadhi as a state of consciousness that could be achieved by force of will. But to me it became clear that this in a sense was an act of violence against reality not much different from the use of mind-altering drugs, only much less efficient.
As I passed from Adeptus Minor to Adeptus Major my attitude began to change. I gradually broke away from the A.'.A.'. curriculum and explored other areas, and you could say that my perspective broadened as a result. The idea of trying to obtain something, some novel state of mind, be it samadhi or whatever, began to seem like a form of escapism, running away from my life as it is. I've done my fair share of astral travel, had visions, conversed with spirits and gods, and explored strange inner worlds. During my examination of Christianity the idea of heaven and hell and the afterlife was revisited and I came to the conclusion that these too were a sort of escapism a hope of something better than the way things are now and a fear that they could get a lot worse if I don't watch myself. It all started to consist of concern for futures that don't exist, a sort of negative karma approach to the work.
Since an Adeptus Major is supposed to work with these forces of karma, of cause and effect, this wouldn't do. I dropped all of the Christian ideas of the afterlife, realising that most popular Christianity is a cult of 'otherworlders', not really capable of being here and now being too concerned with an afterworld that existed largely in their heads. What I did take from that period is a strong need to stop running, to just stop in one place and see how things were. For this reason I was strongly attracted to Benedictine spirituality which is all about stability and ordinariness, in stark contrast to Christianity as it is generally perceived, it is a sort of Christian Zen.
Around that time I had begun to practice zazen rather than meditation as such. Zazen is superficially like meditation, except that there is no goal, no need to concentrate or focus the attention. The type of zazen I favour, shikan taza, is just sitting. Even breath control isn't really part of the practice which is aimed only at experiencing life as it is, unfiltered, with no goal and nothing to attain.
One of the reasons I chose to convert formally to Buddhism was this practice of shikan taza. No need to believe anything, the 16 bodhisattva precepts are adhered to as a method of balancing thought and action so as not to create further karma, ideal for an Adeptus Major. The goalless 'just sitting' of zazen is the method to practice this. Meditation practice such as Raja Yoga is always practiced with some goal in mind, as if there is something outside the self that makes for enlightenment, conceived either as something we need to bring into ourselves to make us holy, or as something we need to bring out of ourselves, to realise, in order to obtain enlightenment. In contrast to this, Buddhism teaches that enlightenment is this very moment perceived as it is, without expectation. Sitting in zazen is in itself the embodiment of enlightenment. So rather than trying to attain anything, my practice is just to sit, to accept things as they are rather than as I would like them to be. This is actually very difficult for somebody like me who has always striven for something or other.
All my life I have been trying to attain something only to realise that there is nothing to gain. No goal, no state of illumination that will make it all make sense. Whatever goals I may obtain, be they academic qualifications, a good job, a grade in a magical order or a black belt in a martial art, are passing things and they don't address the real issue. You could say that up until a few years ago my spiritual life was completely goal oriented, only to realise that there is no goal, effectively turning me back on myself and the real questions. This is a real revolution of the self, instead of wandering about seeking something outside the self that will satisfy, just to be with things as they are. Meditation is like taking a trip in your head, good fun with visions to attain and states of consciousness to enjoy, but when the vision or mind state is over you are back with yourself and the problems of life; old age, sickness and death. Further, with zazen and Buddhist practice there is nothing to learn, no secrets to uncover, and no special states to attain to. The idea of grades seems ridiculous in this light. If I am learning anything in this practice it is only how to be silent.
So I suppose you could say that this is my focus now, how to come to terms with the fundamental issues of life, and I have determined to address this not by seeking for some afterlife or evidence of another option, but instead to sit with things as they are and stop trying to escape. Zazen is exactly this. It's uncomfortable at times, I usually want to jump up and move about, or get lost in a daydream or vision, so even not trying to stop these things is a temptation. Just sitting with yourself, staring at the wall, letting the mind do it's own thing, letting the body ache, and just being with it, is a much more difficult and austere practice. Yet somehow, more than anything else, it forces me to turn to reality as it is, and learn to be ok with it.
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