Thursday, May 29, 2014

One Continuous White Water Thrill



A photo of a Missouri Whitewater Competition

Twenty years ago or so, I saw a wonderful movie by a canoe-ist from Minnesota.  He was an older man who had cleaved the waterways of Northern Minnesota for decades, in a wooden canoe.  For these guys, the peak experiences are paddling whitewater.

At one point in the movie, he showed himself canoeing through extreme rapids for a very long time.  In the narration he explained that, in reality, these were many whitewater experiences spliced together so it looks like a long uninterrupted thrill ride.  Each rapid shoot was actually a brief experience, and most of his canoe trips were uneventful.  He pointed out that seeing wildlife by the streams and rivers was actually quite rare, as well — but, of course, he featured the wildlife he was able to film in the movie.

That’s the way in-depth meditation is for me.  My last blissful experience was a positive dream I have a few years ago. I notice that the spiritual autobiographies of the great meditators of the Nyingma tradition, the peak experiences are reported, but there are gaps of years that are simply omitted.  Of course, there are exceptions, most notably, Dudjom Lingpa or Mingyer Dorje, who were constantly awash with visionary experiences.  My hunch, though, is that the majority of practitioners who devote themselves primarily to meditation have a work-a-day practice, like I do.  Put in the hours as best we can, like others go to a job.

When I think about dating non-practitioners, this issue comes up. 

“Honey, what did you do today?”

“Well, I noticed the long tendrils of the vines near my retreat tent and thought I should cut them back.  Then, I thought, ‘nah,’ and went back to meditating.”

Or, on another day, “I contemplated the real meaning of the Tibetan term ‘drakpo’ and wondered whether all drakpo activity is liberation, or whether other forceful or subjugating enlightened activity is drakpo.  When people call lamas ‘wrathful’, is that doctrinally accurate?  Then, I went and got a peach from the kitchen, and ate it over the sink.  I noted that it has rose flavored overtones.”

“How was your day, honey?”

Oh my goodness, how could I put anyone through that level of non-activity and obscure contemplation on traditional Tibetan literature?

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