Maria S. Gjems-Onstad
Acem Meditation Initiator. Clinical Psychologist in private practice.
What can you do when the repetition of the meditation sound becomes mechanical? Here is some advice.
In weekend courses, through long meditations, guidance and conversations, themes that concern several participants often come into focus. In the weekend course referred to here, what we may call "mechanical" practice became a theme.
Everyone knew that repetition with openness is important in order to open the mind. During the weekend, many discovered that even though they knew this, they had a repetition that blocked the openness they wanted. It was only by talking about their own meditation in a group that they managed to see their own way of practicing with a clearer eye.
What is "mechanical repetition"?
In a "mechanical" repetition we are not sufficiently present in the moment. Our attention catches only some of what is in the mind. The repetition may, for example, enter into a predetermined pattern, not adapted to the shifts of the mind. "The sound hums along by itself, like background music."
Lise was on retreat for the first time, and expressed it like this: "In the beginning I take the meditation sound a little quickly, gradually I let it become slower and slower and preferably a little quiet." She had a clear expectation of how the meditation should proceed - and that is how it turned out. This limited what she could let into the mind.
Another person, Peter, had settled into a particular way of repeating the sound; a little staccato, with a certain degree of strength and determination. This required control, and therefore became limiting.
Georg, a man in his forties, said: "I would rather not have the meditation sound and thoughts at the same time." A tendency to make rules, such as dividing the meditation into different rooms, is yet another way of narrowing consciousness.
Some also became very concerned with including all syllables, and being very correct in how they thought the sound. Petter claimed that in order for the sound not to disappear in the chaos of thoughts, he had to make sure that it was at least pronounced correctly. Again, a control manoeuvre that narrows consciousness.
Mirror images
The way we meditate is often a mirror image of how we relate in everyday life. Lise said that in social settings, if she was shy, she often had a number of fixed themes and lines she used. Petter told of a wedding where he had a woman next to him at the table whom he felt very inferior to. In this situation he became more cocksure and firm than he actually felt. Describing one's own way of meditating often brings thoughts of ways of being in everyday life as well, which it is okay to talk about.
Some experienced meditation as taking on the character of duty. At the same time as one wanted to meditate, because it is both good and right, one wanted to do something else, go out and exercise or the like. But the sense of duty means that one sits there, and then it can become relatively mechanical. Several thought about how in everyday life they also let some activities take on the character of duty, for example time with children and family.
Why does it become like this?
Most people meditate a little "mechanically" in periods; for others it is more of a consistent style. One reason is that defense mechanisms are activated. Lise wanted to hide her shyness, and Petter his feeling of inferiority. Both had developed mechanisms for hiding what was vulnerable and shameful. Free repetition of the meditation sound opened for what was vulnerable - and thereby strategies for hiding oneself were activated.
An open attitude also gives room for more quiet, peaceful moods, which, paradoxically, we also protect ourselves against. The encounter with the quiet and peaceful may be something we want, but which nevertheless may be provocative. In this respect, the human being is a conservative creature. We want change, but protect ourselves against it.
Between the spontaneous and the willed.
Meditation is a meeting place between the spontaneous and the willed. The challenge is to attune these to each other, and let them coexist. Petter was in a difficult but exciting period at work, which might also give him new opportunities. He became engaged by thoughts about the different aspects of the work situation. That is okay as long as the thoughts come spontaneously, but when he chose to continue thinking these thoughts when something else spontaneous was in consciousness, it became a limitation. The whole situation awakened many feelings, but he chose to focus on that thought content. Only in the guidance group did he dare to feel the fear it awakened. After he had let the feelings in, the meditations became freer. He felt anxiety and tension about the new situation, but also expectation and joy.
Attention is what regulates what we will let remain at the center, and what becomes more peripheral. The meditation sound with openness is the tool we use to open the mind, so when we begin to meditate, the meditation sound is at the center. At the same time we try to "scan", to get an impression of what is more peripheral in consciousness. By comparison, you can think of a social situation where you are talking with a person, are engaged in the conversation, while at the same time keeping an eye on what is going on elsewhere in the room. Who is talking with whom, who is forming groups, etc. In meditation the challenge is similar: to be able to "scan" some of what is in the periphery - and include it.
What is it that we repeat?
The meditation sound is not a physical sound; it is more like an echo of something one has heard. Like thinking of music or another sound that has been in the mind. Optimally, the repetition will vary from a fairly correct "pronunciation" to something more subtle, where the sound one repeats is not necessarily identical with the sound one once received from the meditation teacher. The sound will sometimes change; perhaps a syllable disappears or a diphthong becomes somewhat distorted, which is actually fine. In quieter periods it is natural for the repetition to be more subtle. Tolerance for subtlety is essential in meeting the quieter parts of spontaneous activity. This is especially important on longer retreats.
The meditation sound is a combination of vowels and consonants, perhaps diphthongs, in a particular rhythmic pattern. Its most important quality is that it is neutral; it does not bring the mind in a predetermined direction. The opposite is meditations in religious contexts, where the meditation object may have a specific meaningful content intended to bring the mind into contemplation of content in a religious context.
Lise was enthusiastic about the meditation sound she received on the beginner's course. Peter, on the other hand, said that he did not like his sound very much. It gave him associations to the name of a boy with whom he had a complicated relationship in his youth.
Such associations are not central, and usually disappear after a while. In that respect, Lise was no luckier than Petter. The effect of the meditation sound is beyond the "like - or not like" dimension. There is no basis for saying that someone who receives a meditation sound he or she likes very much is luckier or has a greater chance of good results from meditation than someone who receives a sound he or she does not initially like very much.
The most important criterion for the meditation sounds is that they are neutral. Psychological associations often disappear relatively quickly. Long traditions have nevertheless shown that some sounds have a more opening effect on the mind than others. An "open" meditation sound, repeated with inclusive attention, helps the meditator closer to something in oneself.
How to "de-mechanize"?
When Lise relaxed her expectations of how the meditation should proceed, it became both more unpredictable and more exciting. What would she think of now? When Petter gradually gave up his somewhat staccato way of repeating the sound, the meditations became more filled with feelings. For him, it helped to think that he should let the sound into the body. "The body never lies," was his statement. He said that he rarely cried, but in meditation the tears came rolling. Afterwards he felt relaxed and calm, more confident that the work processes would take their course. Georg began to think that the meditation sound and thoughts could be experienced at the same time, which was a relief.
"De-mechanizing" often gives more "living", that is, changing meditations; sometimes more unease, but often also more joy. Openness creates life. New ideas may appear. Perhaps they disappear again, but often leave traces in consciousness that make them usually come to the surface again. Openness often brings contact with a more fundamental satisfaction.
Maria S. Gjems-Onstad