Mindfulness in Messiness

Today was another typical Sunday for me: coffee at Starbucks, workout, meditation at LP Chalee Meditation center, a dharma talk, reflection, and writing. The only difference was that I did my workout after the dharma talk. I was too lazy to get out of bed this morning.

My meditation was everywhere except centered. My mind drifted from random thoughts back to the rising and falling of my breath, then away again. Even as it was happening, I questioned myself: Why can’t I focus today? Was it because I didn’t exercise first? Was I too wired from a late cup of coffee? Or was it because my mind kept wandering to my child’s recent achievement, replaying it and giggling quietly in my heart?

Then came the dharma talk. Ajarn Bryan spoke about the Ten Reflections (Anusati). I won’t go into detail about each one as I’m not qualified to explain them deeply. But they struck me in a personal way. The first four reflections are recollections of the Buddha, the Dhamma, the Sangha, and our own virtue. The last four include recollection of death, mindfulness of the body, breathing, and peace.

The topic hit home!

During the discussion, I realized something uncomfortable. We chanted the familiar verses at the beginning and end of meditation. It is the same chants I’ve known since I was a little kid. The recollections of the Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha have become like background noise. I know the meaning, yet they sometimes become a repetition of melody without mindfulness. That was my first honest admission of the day.

I also shared that recollection of death, the body, and peace feel intertwined. I know that I will die one day. But do I truly accept that I could die at any moment? Knowing and accepting are not the same.

When I reflect on the body, I see how much craving is there. My body becomes self-identity and I cling to it. I worry about white hair, BMI, the fit of my clothes, how strong I look or feel. I tell myself I’m pursuing health for good reasons. It is to save my child from worrying about me, to be strong physically and mentally. But underneath that intention, there is attachment. There is fear. There is self-identification.

My doing is my suffering. If my doing is attachment, then who am I without doing?

On the way from the temple to the gym, it was raining a bit. The roads were wet and reflective. My zodiac element is water. Water flows, adapts, takes the shape of whatever holds it. But it also clings. It gathers in puddles, it soaks into things, it can become stagnant.

Maybe my suffering is like water that has stopped flowing. My thoughts pool like water trapped in a pond: this body, this identity, this role as a parent, this idea of being strong. I want to control the current, but the flow resists.

The fact is that water, when it flows freely, does not resist gravity. It does not argue with impermanence. It falls as rain, becomes river, becomes ocean, becomes vapor again. Water transforms. Exactly what the Buddha taught, everything is impermanent.

Perhaps recollection of death is not meant to scare me, but to soften my grip. Recollection of the body is not to fuel obsession, but to remind me it is temporary. Recollection of peace is not something to achieve through doing, but something discovered when clinging starts to disappear. Perhaps what I need to do is to let go.

Today my meditation was scattered. But maybe that was part of the teaching. I saw the restlessness. I saw the craving. I saw the attachment trying to justify itself as love and responsibility.

And like rain on the windshield, the thoughts kept coming and passing. If I am water, then maybe the practice is simple, flow.

Don’t freeze into identity.

Let the body age.

Let death be certain and timing uncertain.

Let love exist without attachment.

To close this week’s reflection, I remind myself that I don’t have to perfectly understand Dharma to practice. Awareness is messy. The drifting is real. The craving belongs to the mind and the brain, like a wishbone. Tomorrow is a new day, and I will move one step forward at a time.

Stacked of Stones