Hi Jen!
Reading this post made me think of some comments by Curtis Sensei. Here they are. If you don't think it's relevant or don't want my junk here, feel free to delete it
z
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What is Meditation without thinking?
You may say "this is impossible, to stop thinking". But let's just look at this question here a little bit, and maybe we can see something fresh, something new and un-thoughtful.
We can see that experience gives rise to knowledge, which becomes our memory, from which arises thought. So thought is always about the past; history. We cannot think about the present moment. It is impossible. Once we have a thought about something, reflect on it, it is past, even if it was just a split second ago. It is not the present. If we are thinking, it is always about a moment, a movement or action, that has already occurred.
Of course, we cannot stop thinking by trying to not think about it. That sort of circular effort is endless, and never leads to any realization. Instead, we must simply be aware. When we look at something like a Maui rainbow, is it possible to just look at it, without immediately putting ourselves in the past by commenting "Oh, how beautiful"? Because when we do this we are inserting a space, a separation, between ourselves and what we are observing. When you are listening to me talk like this, can you just listen, without agreeing or disagreeing, but just listen as if you are one big ear? Can you simply be, without bringing any history, without adding anything extra to it? When you are practicing Oneness Rhythm Taiso, or Kengi, or some other kata from Aikido, are you just doing it, or are you watching, observing yourself doing it? When we were watching the students perform taigi the other evening, they were moving very fast, what seemed like too fast, and yet their time was too slow. Why? Because they didn't do simply what had to be done and nothing else. Many small and seemingly unimportant movements were tacked on, over and over, and these movements added up to 5 or 6 seconds altogether. It's not that life has to be lived according to some superimposed time. But the taigi is designed to reveal to each of us, among other things, just how much we are adding unnecessary movement into our techniques, our lives.
We must realize that knowledge is infinite. Even knowledge concerning a specific, seemingly unimportant thing, is infinite. There is no end to the amount of things it is possible to know about any particular subject. Once we see that fact, then we can see that no matter how much experience we have in some discipline, like Aikido, no matter how long we have practiced, or how well read we are, relative to the infinite amount of knowledge available on the subject, we have accumulated actually very little. In fact, it is possible to know only an infinitesimally insignificant amount. So for all intents and purposes, we know pretty much nothing at all about anything!
Once we can understand and accept this, then and only then can we truly begin to learn. Then and only then can we have a "beginner's mind", so often referred to by Suzuki Sensei.
So to be constantly in a state of not knowing, this beginner's mind, is to be able to actually learn. This is to be in a state of constant learning. Then life itself is as exciting and curious as watching a movie or reading a book. When we are reading a good story, or watching one unfold, our attention is always focused and in harmony with the story. We are drawn into it, and we follow it with all of our senses. And even though we know it is only a story, it can move us to laughter and to tears. Life, as such, is the ultimate story; much more compelling than any movie ever was. Because the story of our life is never over. It never stops. You can never put the book down for dinner, or walk out of the theatre of this life. This story only ends when we die; and yet even this we cannot know for sure. As long as we are conscious, we must continue to be open and learn in every moment.
Only when we are able to lead a life of this kind of thought-less, open inquiry, having available to us and using but not depending on past knowledge, only then can we come into contact with that which cannot be accumulated or measured. It cannot be measured because there is no "amount" to it. It doesn't gather, but continues to unfold, infinitely. It is ever-new and constantly opening right before our very senses.
Then, when we are in this very practical and real, yet indescribable state, this is what we can truly call "meditation."
Christopher Curtis
Meditation without Thinking
