Not thinking – 10 July 2015

If in contemplative prayer I am not seeking any conscious image of God in my mind, then what will be in my mind?  Among the first things I learned is that I do my best not to dwell on thoughts and inspirations, however worthy, not to ponder words and meanings, not to picture scenes or memories however precious or comforting or tranquillising – instead, as the teaching goes, I become aware of these things, and then I let them float quietly on down the river, while I return firmly to the gentle repetition of the mantra.  So then… am I thinking of nothing…?  No, I am not.  I am simply not thinking, not attempting to think, understand, plan or control.  I am doing my best to stay away from discursive and analytical thought, for now.  However good it is, however well-equipped I am to figure things out, however important my thoughts may be in themselves, I am setting them aside… or doing my best!

This is something my busy brain instantly dislikes, but the discipline develops over time, as I am still and accepting about it.   It is very much a shedding of control and competence.  For the time of prayer at any rate, I am not trying to keep myself safe, I am not planning or organising.  I am being who I am in this place at this moment, a child of God, capable of love. 

Of course, what we are doing is not what we normally do.  We are normally obliged to plan and organise our day, if not also other people…  Therefore, in contemplative prayer, we require a simple discipline embracing posture and attentiveness, reciting the mantra, to do something completely different.

Among the aspects of us we consciously set aside in this prayer is our captivity to how we are feeling right now, our emotions.  The teaching says that we come to this prayer irrespective of how we are feeling.  This amuses me because our entire culture is ruled, dominated by feelings – How did you feel when your house burnt down…? asks the TV interviewer.  It is incomprehensible to most that feelings either should or could be set aside.  In this discipline however we inform our emotions that their rule over us is temporarily suspended… we are now otherwise occupied.

“Discipline” is an interesting word.  In the protestant tradition in which I grew up it carried an almost entirely negative connotation – discipline was what ensued if you broke the rules.  But it is a Latin word from the verb “to learn”.   Jesus’s disciples were learners.  Our disciplines in prayer are so that we might learn, by the grace of the Spirit’s influence in us when we are finally still and silent… that we might learn deeper and better ways, that we might be taught what really matters and what doesn’t, that we might become more Christlike…  These are outcomes that may surprise us, subtly, later, in daily life and work and relationships.