Meditative Inquiry: The Light of Discovery

I’m sitting in a Starbuck’s on King St. East as I write these words. I’m exhausted after a sprint to the finish line on a project at work. My body craves rest.  Music plays in the background. Customers line up at the counter to place their orders. In addition to what I can see and hear around me, there’s a subtle sense inside of ego arising, having been invited by TBM to do this blog. There is some tension in my body as a thought arises and then lingers: “I must do a good job of this.”

This is what’s going on right now; what can be observed in this moment—at least, a dim reflection in words of what is.

There is also a degree of listening, inwardly and outwardly. I don’t always listen, but right now I am. And as I write, the listening deepens, all on its own. Although thoughts and emotions and their corresponding physical sensations come and go, there is a sense of not getting stuck in any of them; of not trying to hold fast to pleasure or resist pain. Simply, then, there is watching without judging, and not trying to make my experience anything other than it is.

So, what is meditative inquiry? It’s not anything, really—nothing cognitive or analytical in nature—just a gentle probing and questioning into our moment to moment experience. It’s really that simple. Is it possible to sit on a bus or on a cushion or wherever we find ourselves and watch our feelings and thoughts, the sound of a bird or car horn, come and go without resisting or judging, but with genuine interest and a sense of not knowing?

Is much else needed?

In each moment, can we see the weight and force of all our habituated thoughts—the accretion of genetics, upbringing, experiences pleasant or painful—all of which inform the strong concept of who we are.  Is there substance to this idea of “Me”? Look closely at the thoughts and images and sensations that come up without making anything out of them. It’s fascinating to investigate.

Meditative inquiry comes out of the work of Toni Packer, who founded the Springwater Center in Upstate New York (springwatercenter.org). Toni had been named by Philip Kapleau to succeed him as head of the Rochester Zen Center. It was then that she came upon the teachings of 20th century spiritual teacher, Jiddu Krishnamurti, found herself questioning her relationship with Zen practice, and then left to establish a centre of her own. She was concerned with the potential in organized religions for new stories of self to emerge subtly and replace the one we don’t like about ourselves. Thought can become mistaken for truth, and there can come to exist what Rabindranath Tagore referred to as ‘a contagion of imitation’. Toronto Meditative Inquiry, a weekly meditation group that I facilitate, is inspired by Toni’s work.

So, inquire into this moment, the coming and going in consciousness of things within and without. Trust in this awareness and in this capacity to examine everything freshly, like watching the weather as if for the first time. As weather is never the same, aren’t we always watching for the first time? Listen to the whistle of the kettle, to the chatter of beings around you, to your thoughts and emotions, pleasant and unpleasant—not with a cognitive questioning, but just with a simple sense of unknowing. Make your experience your inscrutable koan, your own entry point to contemplation.

In this listening there is a sense of self that defies description. The gift you would like to be to the world arises on its own.