The secret is mindfulness during the day; how to achieve it and how to maintain it. Meditation during the morning, first thing if possible, gets things off to a good start. It means always being aware of the aidagara, the space between I and me, or rather, the different ‘me’s that are continually coming to the foreground and fading into the background throughout the day. The I too changes and yet it does not change. — asked for the meaning of this paradox the other day when we were talking about meditation and I was not able to give him a satisfactory answer because I had not thought it through.
According to James the I-self is a creative, free agent, an emergent synthesis of past selves in the present. The I is creative and free because it has the ability to detach itself both from its past and from its present context and choose how it is going to involve itself. In this sense the I is both changing and unchanging. It is changing in the sense that it is a process and its growth and development is linear and progressive. Not unlike a tree, it emerges from the roots of past relationships and its present state is shaped by the surrounding climate and context. The I is unchanging in that it is like the vortex at the eye of a hurricane, like the Great Red Spot on Jupiter, the still point at the eye of the storm. All around is movement, and often chaos. The I can choose to involve itself in the movement or remain in the still centre.
Thinking further – I should revise what I said. The I is not unchanging. It is the still point at the centre which is unchanging. The aim of meditation is to find this stillness. From there the whirling clouds and gusting winds can be seen for what they are. Their movement can be seen – how they emerge from the chaos, how they stream through the passing moments, acting and interacting with each other, and how they vanish into the next emergent squall. The I is not the still centre but in that stillness the I can truly be itself. Only from this still point can reality be seen for what it is – ephemeral and insubstantial. ‘Everything flows and nothing stays’, as Heraclitus said. Again he said, panta rei, all things are in a state of flux.
What is this still centre, this empty vacuum at the vortex of the whirling maelstrom? Does every person have their own still centre? What is it and what relation does it bear to I and me? There are, I am sure, mathematical answers to these questions if talking simply about hurricanes or whirlpools, but how does one answer in a personal and in a metaphysical way? And is there a still, unmoving space at the centre of all that is and, if so, what relation does it have to the rest of reality? These are fascinating questions, questions seeking answers from the time of the early Greeks and before, I am sure. Philosophy does not provide the answers though it may help to clarify the questions.