At 4:45 a.m. the bell rang, and it was time to get up immediately, brush my teeth, change clothes, and rush to the meditation hall – all in less than 15 minutes. It wasn’t “stressful,” but it did require full presence of mind. No time to wander with my thoughts and feelings, otherwise I would be late. The time given was deliberately short for the purpose of this training.
At the end of the morning meditation, the bell rang again and it was time to go to the kitchen to prepare breakfast together with the head nun. The routine for this was also meticulous and required full attention of the present moment, as well as attention to multiple things at once. The nun seemed to be able to read my thoughts through my activities and always caught my attention when my thoughts mixed with memories or imagination. ‘Where are you now, Giovanni? The rice is cooking…”
Hour after hour, there was always something we needed to pay attention to at the moment. Regardless of what was going on inside me, the monastery had its own life; his own routine. And I had to respond to it, be one with it. It was life happening in every moment; I don’t ask my permission or care about my moods and opinions.
When the bell rang, it didn’t matter whether I felt tired or excited, happy or depressed, worried or confident – now it was time to wash the floor. Sometimes my mind was busy or absent. Then my movements were slow and irregular, and the broom made more noise when sweeping the floor. I then felt a tap on my shoulder… The nun, who was holding her own broom, stops and reminds me: “This moment, Giovanni. This is all you have.”
I got the subtle hint. So the next morning I made the effort to try the jam. I watched as my hand took the jam, spread that awful spread over my beautiful slice of bread, and then brought it to my mouth. My thoughts were that it would taste bad. But I chose to just do it and pay attention.
To my surprise it didn’t taste bad. It just tasted… different! Suddenly I could eat the jam without any problems. Eventually I even learned to enjoy it.
Life in the monastery was full of small demands to be fully in the present, to let go of preferences, moods and opinions and ‘just flow’. The sum of all these parts, day after day, allowed the mind to learn to operate from a more open space, a larger space.
The choice of the present moment
After a few weeks in the monastery, something very powerful happened. I could just be there, without having to know what was going to happen, and face life in the present moment. Instead of my thoughts and feelings, open presence (or mindfulness) had become the dominant force. My ‘self’ was no longer a small, dark thing in my brain; it now encompassed the entire monastery and integrated skillfully with the life around me.
This was one of the biggest lessons from that period of intense training. One of the hundreds of benefits of scientific meditation is developing equanimity, which is the ability to maintain inner calm and tranquility at any time, rather than being guided by opposites. To face pleasure and pain, praise and blame, good and bad, with the same frame of mind. This virtue gives you almost ‘superhuman’ powers of clarity and strength in the face of challenges that cause most people to experience confusion, anxiety or stress.
No matter what is happening outside of you, or even within yourself, you have the ability to face life with the presence of mind and wisdom. You don’t have to be a puppet of your thoughts and feelings; they only have the power you give them. To make this truth yours, you need the courage and discipline to be present, aware and open in the face of all challenges in your life. And to realize that the way you respond to events is a choice – however automatic it may be – and not a necessity. You have the power to change it.
Every time life’s bell rings, you can be there with attention and an open heart, or you can be half present and half in your stories. You can choose to see that event through the eyes of your preferences and your emotions; to try to force reality into your personal bias. Or you can experience it and respond from a deeper place within yourself – a place that sees all events as opportunities to express your true self, and all moments as equally precious. This is a place of non-judgment, of tranquility, of equanimity. This is the place where the Buddha lived.
Acceptance is not passive resignation. It changes the focus from fighting the present moment to working with the present moment – to change it or to enjoy it. You retain your energy and sanity; and when necessary, you can also powerfully change the reality around you. But first you have to accept it and see it clearly. Not accepting things as they are is a source of much suffering.
Whether you experience stress and act, or simply take a deep breath and act, the external events remain the same. The bell of life will continue to ring. But the quality of your experience, of your life, can be very different.