Small Talk 17 - Training Your Mind

A few weeks ago I promised to return to the topic of perspective. We were talking about how we make our own reality, based on the formations of our minds—particularly our thoughts and emotions. It's a substantial topic, but now seems like a good time. Recently I've heard from folks that they're not feeling great. If America were a TV show, it has clearly 'jumped the shark.' And given the trends and trajectory, it's easy to see why people feel anxious and disheartened. Well to that I say: Down times are always the best times to invest. You buy stock when the market's low. You start a business when the need is greatest. You plant trees in the fall. Why not look at our mental and physical health in the same way? To quote my daughter: Let's all get fit so we can crush the haters! Well, maybe not crush, but perhaps correct.

There are many methods to improve your psychological perspective. Today, let's talk about meditation. Specifically, what is often called 'mindful meditation,' a practice where you regularly spend time focusing your attention on something--typically, your breathing--and note when your mind wanders. This is an ancient practice, most famously encouraged by Siddhartha Gautama, the founder of Buddhism. But there is nothing inherently religious about mindful meditation. (In fact Buddhism, in its original form, isn't really a religion but rather a set of practices for living. But this is definitely out of scope for small talk.)

Meditation is probably the best thing you can do for yourself. Truly. But what about exercise, you say. What about a healthy diet? Those are great, but meditation is the best. Here's why: If you train your mind, then all the other good habits tend to follow. If we learn to rest our minds in awareness, and hold that focus for longer and longer periods of time, we develop an understanding of the needs of our body, and so we want to exercise and eat well. We also lower our stress levels, become more resilient to hardship, and increase our sense of equanimity.

Now, if you'll permit me a digression: Science can be a bit of a bummer. New discoveries often suggest bad news. (Maybe this is why we're seeing more people reject science for more convenient, self-gratifying beliefs? That's a digression within a digression.) Anyway, one area that has brought a lot of good news is neuroscience. We know now that our brains are 'plastic'—that is, they can change over time, even in our advanced years. Our brains change physically, in measurable ways, depending on how we use them.

The brain's capacity to physically adapt was demonstrated beautifully by a study of London taxi drivers in the early 2000s. London has notoriously confusing roads, and so their taxi drivers—who must pass a rigorous exam—are legendary in their ability to navigate. Our ability to navigate is controlled, in part, by a section of our brain called the hippocampus. The same holds true in the brains of many non-human animals. Well, researchers found that the hippocampi in London cabbies were significantly larger and more developed than most people. What's more, this growth of the hippocampus happened as the taxi drivers became more knowledgeable about navigating the streets of London. They built up their brains! (With GPS navigation, are our hippocampi shrinking? Probably. But it seems the London cabbies are doing okay, still in-demand because their knowledge helps them adjust to chaotic traffic better than GPS.)

The point here, the good news, is that we can appreciably improve our brains to better cope with life's challenges. And the effects are lasting. This is really what's happening when we meditate consistently—we are strengthening our ability to concentrate, to be aware, and to minimize distraction from unproductive thinking and feeling. A quick search will show you MRI pictures of how much people's brains change while they meditate, and how they develop over time when they meditate regularly. Fundamentally, it's no different from how our muscles develop when we exercise. So why wouldn't we spend as much energy training our minds?

I realize this might be sounding like a pitch, which is bad small talk. Nobody enjoys the guy who corners you in the coffee line, proclaiming, 'Dude! You've got to listen to this podcast—it will change... your... life!' So let's take it down a notch.

If you are interested in meditating (and you don't have to—nobody's telling you what to do), but if you want to, how do you start? The remarkable answer is that you can try it right now. Even 30 seconds will do. Like this: (1) sit up straight and close your eyes, (2) take note of your physical senses, (4) turn your attention to your breathing, count your breaths up to 10, then repeat, (5) notice, without judgment, your thoughts and feelings as they arise. When you open your eyes, how do you feel? That's meditation.

You will probably notice that a lot of thoughts and feelings arise in your consciousness, even in just 30 seconds. That's normal and in fact good—we have evolved to think and feel in order to survive. A benefit of meditation is becoming aware of this thinking, and viewing it objectively. We tend to assume that our thoughts and feelings are ourselves. We say 'I am stressed. I am sad.' But with a regular meditation practice, you gradually see thoughts and feelings as just transient states of the mind, which pass like all things. You begin to say, 'Huh—there's some stress there. There's some sadness. How interesting.'

My description of the practice is quite simplified. There are many unique approaches and techniques. Some Zen Buddhists meditate on a koan, a brief, paradoxical statement. (Most famously: "Two hands clap and there is sound. What is the sound of one hand?") The idea is that koans exhaust your mind, allowing a fundamental truth to emerge. In transcendental meditation, practitioners silently repeat a mantra (such as Om Namah Shivaya, or 'I bow to the inner self'). Some people meditate on a particular object or image. But in nearly every case, you are holding your awareness on something, and in doing so, you are subduing the racing of your mind. With regular practice, you discover moments where your mind is 'empty,' and you are simply aware of the moment. This feels like a break from thinking, and you realize just how active your mind usually is.

When I was younger, meditation was not cool. At best, it was something hippies would do—like Shaggy floating a few inches off the ground. These days, of course, meditation is kind of trendy, perhaps even de rigueur. But I think there are still a lot of misperceptions that can keep us from practicing in the most beneficial way. One common trap is to think of meditation as having #goals. This is one of many paradoxes you'll find in literature about the practice. Of course you have a goal, which is probably to feel better and be more capable. But when you are sitting in meditation, it is a mistake to try to achieve something special. Like trying to count more breaths than last time, or not think about certain things. When you do this, that's overt thinking—at the expense of just sitting in awareness and observing your thoughts. The point is not trying. The point is simply doing. Over time this makes more sense.

Another trap is to think of meditation as relaxation. It can be relaxing, certainly. It can be comforting. But when you meditate, you are engaged in a practice. You are training your mind. You aren't chillin or vibeing. You aren't seeking escape from life's stressors. You want to be very aware. This is why meditation practice typically calls for upright posture—so you don't get sleepy. This is why Buddhists, traditionally, refrain from intoxicants—because they inhibit our ability to practice meditation well. To be clear: meditation can feel very good. It usually does. But it's more like the good feeling that comes with exercise, rather than taking a nap.

The final trap I'll mention is the notion that some people meditate well while others are bad at it. The practice is specific to you, your mind, your consciousness. Step by step, day by day, you become more aware of the present moment, you become less involved in unproductive thoughts, and your attention and focus grow sharper. Because your practice is unique, it makes no sense to compare with others. It also makes no sense to say 'I meditated badly today.' If what you mean is that your mind was racing, or your emotions were overwhelming—that means meditation was worthwhile, because you noted these things. (By contrast, consider how often people have spiraling thoughts or emotional overload, and aren't actually aware of it.) All that matters is that you do it, with the right amount of effort.

Which brings us to the end, where I acknowledge that I'm no expert on meditation. I've just practiced it over the years, read some great books, used some helpful apps. Fortunately, there are a lot of experts out there with a great wealth of material to help and inspire you. If you want any recommendations, please let me know! It's not hard to incorporate the practice into your regular life. And I hope you do, because that will make you more effective, which in turn will make the world a little better. And collectively, maybe we can achieve my daughter's challenge—but compassionately.

Have a good one,

Kipling Knox

P.S. I try to avoid holiday references in Small Talk because I think we all get plenty of that. But I do want to express my thanks for all of you, who have talked small with me this past year. I'm particularly grateful for those who reply with their thoughts, and who share this conversation with other people. Every time someone new subscribes (here), I'm inspired to write more.