It’s happened to just about everyone, during sports, while washing dishes, playing music, or in a time of crisis; time slows down to a veritable still, our actions are conscious, and we are completely present. When people ask me about meditation this is the best way to describe it. It’s happened to all of us and will probably happen again, but how do we move into this state on our own and moor our boat safely to the dock?

I sometimes golf with my father-in-law and I’ll never forget the first time I hit the ball right. It was smooth almost silent and my focus was so intense, almost icy cold. As we move forward on the path these moments become more and more frequent. In my early years of training in Aikido, one of my “sempai,” or a student who had a lot more experience under his belt, which was a faded black, almost grey from years of intense training, told me that in the beginning Aikido would be something I do in life but after a few years, life would be something I do in Aikido. I didn’t really understand him at the time but in a few years time I realized that I carry my Aikido into daily life in how I interact with people and my approach to objective reality.

Focus and presence

Developing focus and presence takes practice. Some use a sitting practice, some dance, some do yoga, martial arts, the list is endless but it all amounts to the same thing: we are developing concentration and focus. It’s been said that there are three types of spirituality: intellectual, emotional, and concentration. Every major faith and most minor ones have examples of this in any variety of combinations. The intellectual is pretty simple, it’s the root of fundamentalism, but it allows us to study and talk and compare to enhance spirituality. Emotional is the aspect of feeling feelings of love, but it can even be sorrow, or anger at those who don’t hold the same or similar views that impacts our spiritual lives. Maybe not the most divine example of spirituality but these feelings can become a pillar of our spiritual practice.

When we talk of concentration we are talking about a rare few, a few who have maybe believed in the words and felt the emotions, but it’s not a prerequisite. They’ve taken it upon themselves to explore the subjective world to find peace and affect the objective world with it. The path of concentration is, in a way, the loneliest practice of the lot, but it offers the greatest reward. Meditation is an example of this and it’s not limited to Buddhism. Every great religion has a highly concentrated forms of meditation: Sufi Dance, Kabala, Silent Prayer, and the list goes on.

The fundamental aspect of this state is non-resistance or equanimity. They are the people who can focus and concentrate even while surrounded by chaos or pain. The people who are calm regardless of conditions. I’m often reminded of this when my four year old screams at me–remain calm regardless of conditions. To develop this takes time and patience and one can use a moving or a still meditation to reach this state, the end result is the same. The true test is how we deal with distractions, are we scattered or concentrated.

The beauty of these states is not only the mental clarity and relaxed physical body but the stream of consciousness. In our daily states we may watch birds fly by and there is an obvious distinction between us and the birds. But, in a heightened state of awareness we move with the birds and feel part of them. This can last for a brief moment or hours depending on how skilled we are, but when it happens there is a profound sense of peace and one-ness with everything–for me it’s often interrupted by some silly thought and everything snaps back to somnambulations of a life that’s not in the moment. It’s in this meditative state that we are not interfering with ourselves.

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