During the month of August, some friends and I are experimenting with the spiritual discipline of solitude. One friend who has been extremely encouraging with regard to the disciplines wrote the following on the practice.
We are communal creatures. Our bent towards human relations is seen in many of our desires and vices. A lack of human interaction at infancy can be developmentally devastating and even fatal. Our need for people is not unlike our need for food. We were made to eat and we are built to commune.
Paradoxically, periods of abstaining from food can be beneficial to our development. Likewise, periods of solitude are important in our growth as human beings. Solitude can facilitate improved mindfulness of ourselves and the richness of nature, and allows for focused communion with God. I can testify to the fact that, while being with my children is important and enriching, having time alone with my wife is critical to the health of our relationship. In much the same way having time alone with God, alone with nature, alone with yourself is important to a healthy, balanced lifestyle.
Solitude is a discipline that, according to the gospels, Jesus clearly valued. In addition to the familiar forty days in the wilderness that preceded Jesus’ mission, the gospels make a point of noting several other occasions that he sought out “a lonely place”. I would encourage you to look at Matt 14:23, 17:1-9, 26:36-46; Mark 1:35; Luke 6:12, 5:16.
Solitude as a spiritual discipline is not an exercise in being antisocial. Rather, it equips us for life in community and helps us to savor and value people.
Enjoy your time alone.
I invite you to incorporate solitude into your life this month and share your experiences in the comments of this post. As with most disciplines, this will be easier for some than others. I, for one, have to be very deliberate to incorporate time alone.
My plan this month is to commit to a half-hour of emptying meditation each day, set aside at least one hour per week to be alone at a local chapel, and also set aside one full day at Canterbury for a personal silent retreat. I’ll let you know how it goes.
I sat cross-legged tonight for 30 minutes and tried to stay focused on my breathing. There was no numbness as with seiza, but my new position presented new points of fatigue. As usual, my mind would wander and I’d come back to the breath.
This may sound obvious, but I’m struck by the idea this evening that you can’t think of nothing. As soon as you attempt it, you’ve thought of something.
In zazen we’re told to focus on the breath and the hara. However, I keep wanting to fill the vacuum with my imaginations. While sitting, at some point I inevitably become aware that I’m not alone, that I am sitting in the presence of God. This is far more interesting to me than my breath, so I keep wanting to incorporate the two ideas and breath in and out God’s Spirit (read Breath). (”For in Him we live and move and have our being” – Acts 17:28.)
Then I figure this goes against the idea of just experiencing the simple act of breathing and being alive, so I stop imagining things and go back to the breath.
It’s a strong enough pull though, that at some point I’m going to give myself fully to the idea for my entire 30 minutes, but for now I’m going to attempt to stay with what I interpret to be the intent of zazen.
At the end of my 30 minutes tonight, I prayed, “Ok God, that’s about as empty as I get. Please fill me with your Spirit Father. I’m dead, please live through me.” This is in keeping with one of the subjects of my mindful meditation lately…death. “In our ending is our beginning” (As I Lay Dying: Meditations Upon Returning, R. Neuhaus, 92).
Then I prayed by visualizing myself in a chapel, leading people one at a time from the pews to Jesus standing at the altar. Interesting thing that I don’t remember happening before…as I brought someone to Jesus, he would hug them and they would become part of him. They would enter his body. I enjoyed this quite a bit.
In fact, it just occurred to me that I didn’t hug him during my prayer time so I’m going to do that now and merge with him and get some sleep.
P.S. Canterbury got back to me and the 30th is open for my day of solitude. I think I’ll do the 30 minutes of breathing God then.
I don’t know if my plan to spend an hour per week alone at a local chapel really qualifies as solitude. Even the silent retreat on August 30 may not qualify. Then again, my plan is in keeping with my idea that when it comes to spiritual experimentation, it’s better to commit to very simple, attainable goals and reach them than it is to plan a week in a cell in a monastery and never do it.
Regardless, I spent about 50 minutes at a local chapel yesterday. Got there a little late and left a little early. There was somebody working in the sanctuary so I sat in the garden just outside the chapel. I could hear a guy talking on a cell phone in the lot next door. I could hear construction workers nearby. I hardly felt alone.
Also, it should be a rule, no cell phones in solitude. I took mine primarily because it’s my only time piece. I put it on vibrate, but still. It rang once. I ignored it. Then it buzzed with a voice mail. Even without talking to the person on the other line, they were essentially “there” with me.
Anyway, I prayed, I stared at nature…thought about reading a book but figured that that’s pretty much like listening to someone talk. Having someone else’s ideas in my head didn’t seem like solitude, so I didn’t read.
I told God I was happy to be sitting there with him and was happy for chapels and gardens and monasteries…things that seem to have no “practical” use to the world (unless of course modern life, with all its distractions and business, gets overwhelming and solitude is sought out of sheer desperation).
As I sat there pretty still, various animals started showing up. A squirrel, a pretty little green and yellow bird, some pigeons, a butterfly, another squirrel. I realized that the garden I was in is dedicated to St. Francis and thought that maybe the wildlife somehow knew that. Then, as I became more attentive to animal activity, I saw a bunch of lizards that had previously remained hidden, and then a snake slithered out onto the garden path. It was almost too much. Then I noticed that a nearby fountain was filled (and I mean filled) with tadpoles…little sperm-like ones and half-frogs with tails. It was so cool. I wished I had a bucket so I could take some home to the kids.
But in the end, the thought of that message sitting on my phone was too much for me and I checked it a few minutes before my promised hour of solitude was complete.
On the meditation front, I did my 30 minutes last night. I tried another new position…used a stool this time. That sucked. My knees screamed at the end when I tried to move them. I think I’ll go back to sitting cross-legged tonight.
As for focusing on my breath, lot’s of thoughts came flooding through my brain again. As soon as I’d dismiss one, another would show up. I’ll try again tonight.
Here’s a helpful tip: if you’re planning on meditating later in the evening, don’t do two hours of aikido outside in the Florida heat, then go home exhausted and eat two fat burritos, wash them down with a Foster’s oil can, then proceed to polish off a bottle of wine.
I blew it last night. The flesh was weak and the spirit wasn’t even willing. I got a running start and took a flying leap off the wagon. I simply got sick of being disciplined and opted for getting drunk instead of meditating.
The upside of this is that it gave me the opportunity to practice the discipline of confession. Dave (my priest) called me this morning and I told him about my sin. I asked if he could pronounce absolution over the phone and he did! So I have that going for me (which is nice).
I’ll get back on track tonight.
Well, I didn’t get back on track.
I have a cold. I haven’t felt up to meditating (fever and stuffed nose), but I think I’ve turned the corner and I hope to get back to meditating tomorrow night.
I choose to look on the bright side – at least I haven’t gotten drunk again.
I showed up to the dojo early last night. I had just left an intense counseling session and my mind was racing. Even though it’s not my normal practice, my thoughts and emotions were flying all over the place and I was alone, so I decided to do my 30 minutes of meditation at the dojo. I almost needed to.
I tried to sit cross-legged again, but I felt like I was using too much strength to keep my posture, so I went back to seiza. I usually set a timer when I meditate so I don’t feel compelled to check the clock, but I didn’t have one with me. As a result, I know I spent about 5 minutes fidgeting with trying to sit cross-legged and when I got into seiza I checked the clock about 20 minutes later. At that point, my legs were numb so I rolled over onto my back and did another 5-10 minutes that way as the blood started to flow again.
The actual meditation went well. Thoughts came in a torrent, but by the end of my time, I was pretty focused on my breath and best of all, calm. I was really glad it worked out to do it at the dojo. It’s a peaceful environment, and none of the other students showed up during my meditation.
Also, since I teach the first class, I decided to lead the students in 10 minutes of zazen to clear their minds before the classes for the night. Then I extended the focus on the breath during our paired exercises and was pleased with the way the class progressed.
Last night I just wanted to fall asleep on the couch while watching the Olympics, but I did my 30 minutes anyway. If it wasn’t for the fact that I’d have to post here on my decision, I don’t know if I would have. As I think about that fact, I’m not sure I like that about myself.
I’m far more motivated to keep my commitments if I know someone is watching. In a way, that’s good. At least I’m exercising the discipline muscles. On the other hand, it’s troubling. I feel like I’m exercising performance muscles that are already too big and making my character the equivalent of a body builder who has a massive upper body, but scrawny legs. It’s disproportionate and just doesn’t seem right.
Anyway, I did it and I continue to do it, but I’m afraid I’m doing it for you…and for me…and for how it makes me feel about me.
However, you know what just occurred to me? The other night in the dojo, I needed to meditate to calm down after counseling. If I hadn’t been practicing (for whatever twisted/pure reason), I don’t know if I would have had the zazen tool at the ready when I needed it. Prolly not.
I came, I sat, I breathed. Another 30 minutes down last night. Not a whole lot of pleasure in it. Just did it to get it done.
I plan to visit my chapel of solitude for an hour this afternoon. I’m looking forward to that.
Yesterday was amazing. I went to a local chapel for my 1 hour per week of the practice of solitude. This time the sanctuary was vacant and available.
The small, white chapel used to be open 24 hours-a-day for prayer. The big, bright red doors were left unlocked and whosoever would, could come in for a little sanctuary (Ha! I kill me. Get it? Little sanctuary?). Anyway, you can still come to pray during regular business hours (except on Fridays when they close at noon…everybody’s workin’ for the weekend). You just go to the little old lady at the desk out by the newer, bigger and uglier sanctuary, and she’ll let you in.
When those crimson doors swing open and you walk inside the chapel, it’s like going back in time. No lights are turned on. When your eyes adjust, lot’s of wood and stained glass, a few rows of pews, gorgeous rafters, leather kneelers, a giant Bible on a stand that looks like an eagle, and the candle flickering in its red glass holder near the ornate altar…all of it together and at once greets you and politely invites you to your knees.
Something you don’t expect – everything is smaller than you’re used to. I assume this is because it was all built in a time before things were super-sized. The chapel is narrow. The organ would fit in the corner of any grandma’s living room. The pews seem tiny and closer together than usual. But, the ceiling is disproportionately high and draws your eyes upward.
I love the place. A visit there feels like going to an old relative’s cottage where you spent summers as a kid. When you walk in, you sense the loving and peaceful presence of God, like He really lives there and it’s not just the “house of God” in name only.
I immediately sat in a pew and thanked Him for the time in that place. I knelt. I savored being with Him. I read the scripture verses for this weekend’s service (I’m preaching). Then I went to the altar and knelt there.
After some praying, I sat in front of the altar on a rug covering the wood floor. I sat cross-legged and did my 30 minutes of breathing. Instead of cupping one hand in the other with my thumbs touching, I sat with my forearms on my knees, palms up (as if to receive whatever my Father wanted to give me).
While focusing on my breath, I cheated a little and gave my imagination some string. With each inhale I thought “receive,” and with each exhale I thought “give.” I gave my sin and received His goodness. I emptied my self. I imagined he was sitting cross-legged in front of me, holding my hands. I asked Him to fill me and accepted whatever He gave.
Then, my mind was flooded with thoughts on this weekend’s scriptures. I didn’t want to set them aside as if they were thoughts about my neighbor’s dog shitting in my yard, so contrary to teachings on zazen, I let them come. It was wonderful. I was like Neo in the Matrix after a brain upload. But, instead of knowing kung fu, I knew the contents of this weekend’s sermon.
I made mental notes and finished my 30 minutes. After that, I grabbed one of those little eraserless pencils from the back of a pew and wrote it all down on some loose paper.
I prayed more, walked around the chapel a bit and looked at the stained glass. I thanked God again and left at peace, grateful and excited about Sunday morning.
The Merry Monk of Funk came over on Friday night and we stayed up till 2 BS-ing and playing Go. No meditation Friday night.
Saturday night…game night! Meditation? Nope.
Sunday? Recovering from game night. No meditation.
I did get back to it last night though. To overcome the inertia (a body at rest tends to stay at rest), I decided to have a little fun and try something new.
My friend gave me a CD designed by scientists who study mediation. Tones in the audio are supposed to stimulate areas of the brain involved in deep meditation. They tell you that as one listens, new neural pathways are formed that help the listener reach deeper states with greater ease.
The directions tell you to listen to the CD with headphones while you meditate with your eyes closed. So I did…laying in bed. I reached a deep state alright. I think the experts call it sleep.
On a positive note. It was very relaxing. You hear rain falling and what sounds like different sized bells ringing with deep long tones and then shorter, wobbly, high pitched tones. I focused on my breath with the words “give” and “receive” on each exhale and inhale. This went on for what I assume to be around 15-20 minutes. Then I realized that I was out, and came back to the breath. Shortly after that, the approx. 30 minute track ended and I got up to hang out on the couch with Paise.
I meditated on Tuesday night while listening to my friend’s CD with the tones again. This time I sat in a chair instead of lying down (so as not to fall asleep). It was really nice. Very relaxing.
I had a busy day yesterday, came home and filled my belly with roast beef. I was so tired, I knew finding the motivation to meditate wasn’t going to be easy. Paise went out with some friends and after the kids went to bed, I threw in the towel and watched Battlestar Galactica for a few hours. I made a lame effort to focus on my breath later that night in bed, but just fell asleep.
My business has also impacted my hour of solitude at the chapel this week. I haven’t had the time so far, and the chapel isn’t open tomorrow when I’m available. If I get my hour, it will have to be someplace else.
Stay tuned.
I meditated on Thursday, then proceeded in what seems to be my pattern…no meditation on the weekends.
My busyness last week got in the way of my one hour of solitude at the chapel. I tried to make up for that with a Monday visit in advance of this weekend’s day of solitude. I could only make time for a half-hour between work and leaving for my first day of classes at Reformed Theological Seminary.
I wish I could have stayed longer, but the time I did have was sweet. I sat with God in silence for a while, imagining that we each simply enjoyed quietly sitting together…like an old married couple. I sang Him a few songs, snapped some pictures of the chapel with my phone, and then got back to less important things.
I meditated with the class at the dojo, but blew off my half-hour when I got home.