Right Meditation, Cont.

Pinch the nose between the thumb and curled ring finger, the index and middle fingers resting on the forehead with the little finger curled and relaxed downwards. To inhale or exhale through a nostril, simply release the pressure on the desired side.

This exercise can be done in two ways: first, by breathing entirely (in and out) through one nostril for fifteen minutes and then repeating for fifteen minutes using the other nostril; Second, by inhaling through one nostril, closing that nostril, and then opening the other nostril to exhale through it and leaving that nostril open to permit the next inhalation through it.

Heel Breathing - not to be confused with 'Healing Breath'- is an advanced form of pranayama used by Daoists in the Microcosmic Orbit, their version of Kundalini Yoga.

Heel Breathing, though different from the clearing the nadis or channels preliminary exercises, is nevertheless an excellent substitute for these clearing practices.

First, an explanation: Pleasure centers in the brain being what they are, it is impossible to take the sex out of deep meditation. There is a limited number of ways for a person to experience ecstasy. Actually, maybe only one. People who follow any of the "left-hand" (meditation with a sex partner) schools can do whatever they like. Their rituals are extremely complicated and, obviously, these instructions are not for them.

In the Orient, monks sometimes place an padded cup-cake like ball on their hard cushions. When sitting, the entire weight of their trunk presses down on this ball. Officially, the ball (called a "man-tou" which is a steamed bread bun) is said to be pressed against the anus so as to prevent Qi from leaking out. Actually, the ball serves to supply rectal stimulation and to put perineal pressure on the prostate gland which many men also consider to be arousing.

However, in most tropical locations, monks sit on the ground, not on cushions. They also go barefoot and are, therefore, "discalced." Going barefoot, especially to a mature person, is a sure way to get a hard, protruding ring of callous around the base of the heel.

Using any of a variety of asanas - but in particular the Adept's Seat (Siddhasana) in which the heel of the right foot is placed behind the testicles, toes pointing to the left, top of the foot against the ground, and the left foot drawn to the genitals - the monk achieves the desired perineal and rectal pressure.

Breathing naturally, hands in his lap, the meditator begins by focusing his attention on the dantian (point deep in the lower abdomen where the aorta bifurcates) which, owing to the posture he has taken, is now so close to his heels, anus, genitals, perineum, hands, and lower abdomen, as to feel connected to them. Together they form a "greater dantian area" (GDA).

2. He feels his pulse beat in his dantian. He then lets the pulse (which may be visualized as a ball of light) split into two balls, each of which travels to his ankles, calves, knees, thighs, hips, and base of spine - at which place, united, they meet back where they started in the GDA.

3. He draws the ball up the spine to the neck (using locks and 'bamboo breathing' - short segmented rocking breaths - if necessary) at which point it splits again. Each ball crosses a shoulder and travels down the outside of the arm to the fingers - at which place the ball is back where it started in the GDA. The pulse is carefully felt in the fingers.

4. Each ball then enters a thumb and travels up the inside of the arm to the armpit and then over the shoulder to the back of the neck where the balls join and begin to rise up the back of the head to the top of the head and down the forehead stopping at the "third eye" (between the eyebrows) to pulse there for as long as possible.

5. The ball then continues down the nose, upper lip, roof of the mouth (causing a considerable amount of saliva to be secreted), tongue, and down the throat. The meditator carefully swallows his saliva three times.

6. The ball pulses down the neck and breastbone, enters the solar plexus, and drops into the abdomen where it sinks and pulses in the GDA.

One circuit has been completed. Note: Some forms of Heel Breathing omit the arm and hand route. They shouldn't. Also, the kind of concentration that is required is similar to the concentration brought to bear upon the task of learning to play the piano or to type. First, one hand learns. Next, the other. Finally, we must co-ordinate the play of both hands together.

The meditator will complete as many circuits as is necessary to feel his entire trunk and head vibrate or "thrill" excitedly. At this point, the force will rise in his trunk's interior to his brain, leaving him suspended in deep samadhi.

A word of warning: When practicing any sexually related kriya, an inexperienced person may be shocked to discover how wildly sexual some of these meditative states can be. In meditation, the ego is transcended. John Doe, in his normal sex life, always remains, more or less, in control. Opportunities for kinkiness are usually always present; but John Doe knows that there are some things which John Doe will not do. When, however, John enters the meditative state, "he" is no longer there to put the brakes on his enthusiasm or his creativity. He can be seized by a frightening kind of "anything goes" frenzy. This wildness characterizes the rituals of tantric yoga and some of the ancient mystery religions.

The word Chan comes from the Sanskrit word dhyana. The English cognate is dwell. The Proto-Indo-European word was *dh(e)wel - to obscure, darken and deceive, hold up, hinder, and therefore to stop and remain.

There are many ways to allow something to dwell in our minds. Japanese Zen usually confines itself to no-thought or mind-blanking meditations - a mind in which nothing dwells; but in Chinese Chan, once the basics of breath control are mastered, we use any form of meditation that works.

l. Before sitting down to meditate, select an ordinary household or office object such as a coat-hanger, a pencil, a stapler remover, a wooden drawer, or a picture frame, nothing too complicated. It is absolutely necessary that the object be selected before you sit down. If you wait until after you are seated, your mind will play tricks on you. You'll spend 98% of your allotted time trying to decide on an object.

2. Sit in full or half-lotus and bow to the Buddha within, review your recent conduct, making the necessary resolutions, and so on.

3. Perform as many deep breaths of 1:4:2 ratio as you need to get into alpha. Sometimes you may lose yourself in this breathing exercise and may descend into deep meditation, coming out of it slowly without having gotten to the object you selected. Don't try to force yourself back into a meditative state just for the sake of your object. Consider the experience as the performance of a valid meditation on the breath itself, i.e., that the breath had become your meditative object.

4. Consider each attribute of the object you have selected and visualize it without naming it. Avoid using words. If you have selected a yellow wooden pencil then visualize a round or hexagonal piece of wood. See the wooden shape. After you have seen wood, see yellow. Again, don't think the word yellow. Just see the color. See the black dot (if unsharpened) or point of graphite. Then see the metal collar, with its rings and clamping indentations. See the eraser. Then see the whole pencil. Let your mind trace along - without actually reading - the printing on the pencil... perhaps "No. 2" or "Ticonderoga." By this time the pencil, much larger than life, should be glowing in your mind. Hold your attention on it as if it were an object of great wonder. It will definitely seem to be so.

The longer you can 'dwell' on the object, the better. Spontaneously, you will come out of the meditation.

Gauge the depth of your meditation by the depth of the euphoria you feel after it ends and you come out of it. The more elated you feel, the deeper you have gone.

Euphoria is, in fact, an indication of successful meditation. True religious experience is always joyful and exciting. Sometimes, however, a meditation takes a wrong turn and the meditator afterward relates that he had entered a dreadful void, a Stygian abyss or vast area of terrible desolation. He remains for hours or days as gloomy as his vision. This kind of experience evidences a psychological problem and should prompt a visit to an analyst or a good Chan master.

Some commentators would have us believe that this Stygian void is the ultimate of meditative states. They theorize that the meditator has actually seen through the gross material state of things to some fundamental sub-atomic reality. This, they think, is what Nirvana is... seeing the world not as being composed of people, mountains, trees, oceans, sky, and such, but as photons, protons, quarks, and so on. This is elitist nonsense.

Don't be surprised if you lose your ability to meditate upon an object the second or third time you successfully use it. The mind sometimes habituates to an object; and when the object loses its ability to fascinate, it becomes worthless as an object of meditation. If one method repeatedly fails, move on to another method.

Get two clocks or timers that tick and place one on each side of you, a few feet away. Then take your meditation 'seat' and, after performing the bow, the examination of conscience and enough deep breaths to get into alpha, listen carefully to the clocks. There will be moments when their ticking is synchronized and moments when their ticking is not. Study the pattern, trying to determine which one is slower. Without resorting to numbers or names, try to get the feel of the converging and diverging rhythms. Throughout this period of observation continue to perform deep breathing using the rhythm of the clocks to measure the 4:16:8 or 8:32:16 breathing ratio. Try to make the breath slower and finer. Instead of counting with English numbers, use the Indian or Japanese words described in an earlier chapter or use nonsensical terms such as mee, mah, moo, mum, to keep the cadence. It is also possible to use your own heartbeat to keep the rhythm.

Whenever you come out of the meditation, it is finished. Don't try to force yourself to get back into it. The entire experience may last anywhere from several minutes to a half-hour or more. Again, success is measured by the degree of elation which follows it.

Another meditation exercise using the same two ticking instruments, one on either side of you, is as follows:

Pay attention to one clock only. As you focus your attention upon it, the sound of this clock will seem to get louder while the sound of the other clock (the ignored one) will seem to soften considerably. Then shift your attention to the other clock. Now the sound volume will seem to increase on this side and decrease on the other. Listen to one side and then the other trying to determine which is louder.

Continue to control and refine the breath, using the ticking to keep the cadence.

In the way of personal testimonial I can relate that my first samadhi experiences were gained through these two clock meditations (actually a clock and a timer). In fact, on one occasion I entered into such deep ecstasy that I evidently stopped breathing altogether and a voice inside my head (a very friendly archetype) called me by name and with some urgency noted that I was not breathing. At this, I sighed and slowly came out of it. The entire session lasted about an hour. (I cannot estimate how much of it was spent in the breathless, rapturous state. This is what is meant by the 'eternal' moment. It is outside of time, i.e., unmeasurable). After this experience I became so constantly aware of the clock's ticking that the moment the clock stopped, I would reach out and pick it up to wind it. If other people were in the room they invariably would grow accustomed to the ticking and wouldn't notice that the the clock had stopped, but I never habituated to the sound. Though I tried to keep the clock wound, I sometimes forgot and, throughout the next several years was able actually to hear the clock stop eleven times. Then the clock broke.

This is a variation on the Zazen technique given above. This meditation has for some time been my personal favorite.

There is a difference between seeing and watching, between touching and feeling and between hearing and listening. The former is merely sensory while the latter involves thoughtful or conscious appraisal.

In this meditation, sit, bow, review, resolve, and perform the deep breathing exercise, and then, with the mind in a relaxed and tranquil (alpha) state, become aware of each sound that you hear ...but do not listen to the sound. Simply hear it without evaluating it or considering it in any way. Let it register without judging it. Again, do not let the sound engage the intellect. Simply, in an ongoing manner, notice it. A bird singing, a car passing, a plane overhead, a bell ringing, kids playing... anything. After one sound fades out, another enters the mind.

The beauty of this particular meditation is that since the sounds are different each time you sit, you can't habituate to the stimulus.

In Nan Hua Si (the Sixth Patriarch's monastery) many elderly monks and nuns come to evening meditation sessions and start snoozing. They snore and snore. The desire to laugh, thinking about what would happen if they were in Japanese Zendos, is almost overwhelming. But once this desire is conquered, it is possible to meditate even on snoring. Also, you can perform this meditation wherever and whenever it's convenient.

This is a particularly effective meditation for people who are frequently exposed to stressful situations. Dentists long ago discovered that a patient who listens to white noise (a soft, continuous monotone) can raise his pain threshold considerably. White noise is extremely calming. Rain beating on a window pane or roof, the bath-shower beating on a shower curtain, ocean waves, falling water, and so on are all good examples of white sound. A Large spiral shell held close to the ear produces a wonderful white sound. (Actually, people who have difficulty getting to sleep can keep one of these shells at their bedside and just reach for it whenever they need to relax.) What is important about this meditation is that once you get familiar with the sound, you can recall it whenever you are under stress. All that is needed is the poise or the discipline to take a moment to withdraw into yourself and recreate the sound in your mind.

Mantras are words or phrases said rhythmically, aloud or silently, quickly or slowly, but always with undivided attention.

The oldest and perhaps best mantra is 'Om.' The 'm' is held a long time. The trick is to close the lips lightly and to let the 'mmmmmmmm' vibrate the lips for as long as possible. (Sometimes the vibrations become so intense that people with capped front teeth get worried about loosening the cement.) One test of whether you are doing this correctly is that your cat will come to you, lie down and purr. 'Mu' is a variant of this mantra.

A repeated word or phrase can seduce the mind into a meditative state. Many people can even repeat their own name, over and over again, until the name becomes strangely devoid of meaning. At that point they slip into the meditative state.

I have found a particularly potent mantra to be Om, Namah Shivai. This is repeated Om (3 beats) Na (l beat) mah (3 beats) Shi (l beat) vai (3 beats) all on the same note. When I first learned it I understood that it meant, Om, I am Shiva! Recently I learned that it meant, Om, Salutations to Shiva! (Of course, the Shiva that is being saluted is the Shiva within each person.) I discovered how extraordinary this mantra is while once waiting for surgery. Due to the hospital's policy of minimizing drug intake, pre-operative patients were not prepped with the usual tranquilizers and such. Therefore, coldly wide awake and shivering in the ante room, (morgues are kept warmer than surgeries) I waited apprehensively. It occurred to me to recite this mantra mentally. In one weak, small voice, I began. After several repetitions, the voice grew stronger and then another voice joined it in a bold duet. Soon I heard it sounding like the harmonious chords of a small church choir. Then the mantra swelled in volume and harmony until it seemed to be chanted by an enormous tabernacle choir with an organ piping behind it; and finally, it seemed as though a great host of angels was joyously proclaiming throughout the vibrating universe, Om, Namah Shivai!

I was neither afraid nor cold when I was wheeled into the operating room.

This mantra is also very effective when chanted aloud. Sometimes it is sung with a little melody.

For those who regard Jesus as a bodhisattva, the Jesus prayer, "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me!" is a splendid mantra. Other excellent mantras are "There is no God but Allah"; "Hare Krishna", and "Om, Mani padma hum."

Meditation both on auditory and on visual stimuli can be dangerous. Once, while driving on a jungle road in southern Mexico, I fell into a meditative state listening to music. Confused when I came out of it, I slammed on the brakes. Everything in the car went flying forward and the car nearly skidded into a ditch. On another occasion, I was downtown on a street corner waiting for a friend when I began to meditate on a lengthy, complex mantra. My friend came along and took me by the arm while I, in total confusion, stumbled and looked around not knowing where I was. It only took a moment for me to compose myself, but prior to that moment, I could have been in danger. On another occasion I was staring into a gift shop window at a display of crystal balls. One ball had been impregnated with air bubbles which drew my attention deeply into it. Entranced, my face pressed against the glass, I stood there idiotically until the proprietor came out and shouted at me. I responded to being jolted out of the trance by nailing him with a fierce look that sent him retreating to his shop.

Sound, especially musical sound, is probably the best way to 'enter the mandala.' Just be careful where you are when you meditate on it.

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