Debates about meditation

PashkoPata'q said:If you were actually living "meditation," you wouldn't be getting this worked up over someone else's post.

Anyone who thinks meditation is going to "smooth out" human emotions—or that it eventually leads to some kind of constant bliss or comfort—clearly hasn't a clue what they're talking about.

Besides... why do you assume only an agitated person can be verbally aggressive? Tolerance isn't a free pass; it’s something you earn. It is perfectly normal, even productive, to withhold tolerance from someone who hasn't earned it. Doing that doesn't require being upset—quite the opposite, actually. It requires calmness, calculation, and resolve. You're completely conflating "political correctness" with "spirituality."

Human stupidity... while it can be fascinating and deeply annoying at the same time, it should only rattle those who aren't expecting to run into it. If you go into the day expecting stupidity, its appearance won't shake you—just like you don't get upset when the sun sets in the evening after having expected it to rise in the morning.

Quincy:

what does meditation mean to you? Because clearly, your definition is a far cry from the standard one.

Krishnamurti describes the problem of meditation perfectly, and it aligns exactly with my own view of the matter.

Meditation is a very complex business. The Word meditation implies both in Sanskrit and in English, not only the brain concentrating on a certain subject, but also it implies a great deal of attention. But primarily meditation means, in Sanskrit, to measure. And also in English etymologically, I believe, it is to measure.
The whole question of becoming is involved in it, which is to measure: I am this, I will be that. I am greedy, but I will gradually become non-greedy, which is a form of measurement, which is form of becoming. Both becoming in the affairs of the world and psychologically becoming. That is the whole question of measurement.
The Greeks were the originators of measurement. Without measurement there would be no technology. And The Asiatics specially in India, said measurement is illusion, measurement means limitation. They didn’t exactly say this, they put it differently. So measurement means comparison, to compare ‘what is’, ‘what should be’, the ideal, the fact, the fact becoming the ideal. All that is implied in meditation.

And also in meditation is implied, the meditator and the meditation. So to enquire into meditation, you have to enquire first not only measurement, but also this constant becoming something, psychologically. Human beings are violent, and the ideal to be in a state of non-violence, which is to become.

So the question is not how to meditate but what is meditation, rather than how. I hope I am making myself clear. And also there is a question involved in that: who is meditating? And most of The Systems of meditation , whether The Japanese , and The hindus, and so on, Tibetan, there is always the controller and the controlled. Right? Are we meeting each other? So there is the controller controlling thought, to quieten the thought, to shape thought according to a purposeful direction. So there is the controller and the controlled. Who is the controller?

Please, all this is implied in meditation, not merely to control one’s thought as is generally understood in meditation, whether it is Zen meditation, or the most complex forms of meditation which take place in India, and elsewhere, there is always the director, the entity that controls thought. SoThey’ve essentially created this psychological split between the one doing the thinking and the thoughts themselves. Because of that, the thinker detaches himself from the actual process of thinking—which leads to this idea that during meditation, there’s some sort of "controller" stepping in to manage and quiet down the thoughts.

It creates this fundamental divide between the controller and what is being controlled. Makes sense, right? But here’s the kicker: who actually *is* the controller? Honestly, hardly anyone ever stops to ask that.
Most people are just thrilled to dive into meditation because they’re chasing a specific destination—you know, things like sudden illumination, total enlightenment, a quieted brain, or just some much-needed peace of mind. But very, very few people actually take a moment to inquire: who is this controller I'm trying to use?

------------------

And hey, if there’s anything else that still feels a bit fuzzy... just ask. 🙂

Quincy:

Edward Flores4 As specified by Edward Flores4: Krishnamurti describes the core dilemma of meditation quite brilliantly, and his perspective aligns perfectly with my own understanding of the issue.

I find myself in general agreement with the notion that meditation is far from being merely a matter of dedicating a few minutes or even several hours each day to sitting in silence and attempting to clear one's thoughts. Rather, every single moment of the day can be lived through a meditative lens; in fact, I shall be bold enough to assert that meditation is, in essence, an overall state of mind.

Edward Flores4 said:Anyone who thinks meditation is going to "smooth out" human emotions—or that it eventually leads to some kind of constant bliss or comfort—clearly hasn't a clue what they're talking about.

Besides... why do you assume only an agitated person can be verbally aggressive? Tolerance isn't a free pass; it’s something you earn. It is perfectly normal, even productive, to withhold tolerance from someone who hasn't earned it. Doing that doesn't require being upset—quite the opposite, actually. It requires calmness, calculation, and resolve. You're completely conflating "political correctness" with "spirituality."

Human stupidity... while it can be fascinating and deeply annoying at the same time, it should only rattle those who aren't expecting to run into it. If you go into the day expecting stupidity, its appearance won't shake you—just like you don't get upset when the sun sets in the evening after having expected it to rise in the morning.

Quincy:

what does meditation mean to you? Because clearly, your definition is a far cry from the standard one.

Krishnamurti describes the problem of meditation perfectly, and it aligns exactly with my own view of the matter.

Meditation is a very complex business. The Word meditation implies both in Sanskrit and in English, not only the brain concentrating on a certain subject, but also it implies a great deal of attention. But primarily meditation means, in Sanskrit, to measure. And also in English etymologically, I believe, it is to measure.
The whole question of becoming is involved in it, which is to measure: I am this, I will be that. I am greedy, but I will gradually become non-greedy, which is a form of measurement, which is form of becoming. Both becoming in the affairs of the world and psychologically becoming. That is the whole question of measurement.
The Greeks were the originators of measurement. Without measurement there would be no technology. And The Asiatics specially in India, said measurement is illusion, measurement means limitation. They didn’t exactly say this, they put it differently. So measurement means comparison, to compare ‘what is’, ‘what should be’, the ideal, the fact, the fact becoming the ideal. All that is implied in meditation.

And also in meditation is implied, the meditator and the meditation. So to enquire into meditation, you have to enquire first not only measurement, but also this constant becoming something, psychologically. Human beings are violent, and the ideal to be in a state of non-violence, which is to become.

So the question is not how to meditate but what is meditation, rather than how. I hope I am making myself clear. And also there is a question involved in that: who is meditating? And most of The Systems of meditation , whether The Japanese , and The hindus, and so on, Tibetan, there is always the controller and the controlled. Right? Are we meeting each other? So there is the controller controlling thought, to quieten the thought, to shape thought according to a purposeful direction. So there is the controller and the controlled. Who is the controller?

Please, all this is implied in meditation, not merely to control one’s thought as is generally understood in meditation, whether it is Zen meditation, or the most complex forms of meditation which take place in India, and elsewhere, there is always the director, the entity that controls thought. SoThey’ve essentially created this psychological split between the one doing the thinking and the thoughts themselves. Because of that, the thinker detaches himself from the actual process of thinking—which leads to this idea that during meditation, there’s some sort of "controller" stepping in to manage and quiet down the thoughts.

It creates this fundamental divide between the controller and what is being controlled. Makes sense, right? But here’s the kicker: who actually *is* the controller? Honestly, hardly anyone ever stops to ask that.
Most people are just thrilled to dive into meditation because they’re chasing a specific destination—you know, things like sudden illumination, total enlightenment, a quieted brain, or just some much-needed peace of mind. But very, very few people actually take a moment to inquire: who is this controller I'm trying to use?

------------------

And hey, if there’s anything else that still feels a bit fuzzy... just ask. 🙂

So, what exactly do you think meditation creates?

Edward Flores4 said:Anyone who thinks meditation is going to "smooth out" human emotions—or that it eventually leads to some kind of constant bliss or comfort—clearly hasn't a clue what they're talking about.

Besides... why do you assume only an agitated person can be verbally aggressive? Tolerance isn't a free pass; it’s something you earn. It is perfectly normal, even productive, to withhold tolerance from someone who hasn't earned it. Doing that doesn't require being upset—quite the opposite, actually. It requires calmness, calculation, and resolve. You're completely conflating "political correctness" with "spirituality."

Human stupidity... while it can be fascinating and deeply annoying at the same time, it should only rattle those who aren't expecting to run into it. If you go into the day expecting stupidity, its appearance won't shake you—just like you don't get upset when the sun sets in the evening after having expected it to rise in the morning.

Quincy:

what does meditation mean to you? Because clearly, your definition is a far cry from the standard one.

Krishnamurti describes the problem of meditation perfectly, and it aligns exactly with my own view of the matter.

Meditation is a very complex business. The Word meditation implies both in Sanskrit and in English, not only the brain concentrating on a certain subject, but also it implies a great deal of attention. But primarily meditation means, in Sanskrit, to measure. And also in English etymologically, I believe, it is to measure.
The whole question of becoming is involved in it, which is to measure: I am this, I will be that. I am greedy, but I will gradually become non-greedy, which is a form of measurement, which is form of becoming. Both becoming in the affairs of the world and psychologically becoming. That is the whole question of measurement.
The Greeks were the originators of measurement. Without measurement there would be no technology. And The Asiatics specially in India, said measurement is illusion, measurement means limitation. They didn’t exactly say this, they put it differently. So measurement means comparison, to compare ‘what is’, ‘what should be’, the ideal, the fact, the fact becoming the ideal. All that is implied in meditation.

And also in meditation is implied, the meditator and the meditation. So to enquire into meditation, you have to enquire first not only measurement, but also this constant becoming something, psychologically. Human beings are violent, and the ideal to be in a state of non-violence, which is to become.

So the question is not how to meditate but what is meditation, rather than how. I hope I am making myself clear. And also there is a question involved in that: who is meditating? And most of The Systems of meditation , whether The Japanese , and The hindus, and so on, Tibetan, there is always the controller and the controlled. Right? Are we meeting each other? So there is the controller controlling thought, to quieten the thought, to shape thought according to a purposeful direction. So there is the controller and the controlled. Who is the controller?

Please, all this is implied in meditation, not merely to control one’s thought as is generally understood in meditation, whether it is Zen meditation, or the most complex forms of meditation which take place in India, and elsewhere, there is always the director, the entity that controls thought. SoThey’ve essentially created this psychological split between the one doing the thinking and the thoughts themselves. Because of that, the thinker detaches himself from the actual process of thinking—which leads to this idea that during meditation, there’s some sort of "controller" stepping in to manage and quiet down the thoughts.

It creates this fundamental divide between the controller and what is being controlled. Makes sense, right? But here’s the kicker: who actually *is* the controller? Honestly, hardly anyone ever stops to ask that.
Most people are just thrilled to dive into meditation because they’re chasing a specific destination—you know, things like sudden illumination, total enlightenment, a quieted brain, or just some much-needed peace of mind. But very, very few people actually take a moment to inquire: who is this controller I'm trying to use?

------------------

And hey, if there’s anything else that still feels a bit fuzzy... just ask. 🙂

A truly steady mind—one rooted deeply in its own being—remains calm regardless of what’s happening around it. It doesn't get to pick and choose when to be verbally aggressive and when to be tolerant; it stays consistent through thick and thin. What you're describing sounds more like typical human reactivity. We tend to cloud our judgment with selectivity, pre-judging every situation before it even unfolds. We often convince ourselves we have some sort of right to lash out at others just because, in our opinion, they "deserve" it. But let's be real: verbal aggression is always aggression. And if it isn't a heat-of-the-moment outburst, but rather something calculated and planned? Then it's nothing more than plain old sadism.

Edward Flores4 said:Anyone who thinks meditation is going to "smooth out" human emotions—or that it eventually leads to some kind of constant bliss or comfort—clearly hasn't a clue what they're talking about.

Besides... why do you assume only an agitated person can be verbally aggressive? Tolerance isn't a free pass; it’s something you earn. It is perfectly normal, even productive, to withhold tolerance from someone who hasn't earned it. Doing that doesn't require being upset—quite the opposite, actually. It requires calmness, calculation, and resolve. You're completely conflating "political correctness" with "spirituality."

Human stupidity... while it can be fascinating and deeply annoying at the same time, it should only rattle those who aren't expecting to run into it. If you go into the day expecting stupidity, its appearance won't shake you—just like you don't get upset when the sun sets in the evening after having expected it to rise in the morning.

Quincy:

what does meditation mean to you? Because clearly, your definition is a far cry from the standard one.

Krishnamurti describes the problem of meditation perfectly, and it aligns exactly with my own view of the matter.

Meditation is a very complex business. The Word meditation implies both in Sanskrit and in English, not only the brain concentrating on a certain subject, but also it implies a great deal of attention. But primarily meditation means, in Sanskrit, to measure. And also in English etymologically, I believe, it is to measure.
The whole question of becoming is involved in it, which is to measure: I am this, I will be that. I am greedy, but I will gradually become non-greedy, which is a form of measurement, which is form of becoming. Both becoming in the affairs of the world and psychologically becoming. That is the whole question of measurement.
The Greeks were the originators of measurement. Without measurement there would be no technology. And The Asiatics specially in India, said measurement is illusion, measurement means limitation. They didn’t exactly say this, they put it differently. So measurement means comparison, to compare ‘what is’, ‘what should be’, the ideal, the fact, the fact becoming the ideal. All that is implied in meditation.

And also in meditation is implied, the meditator and the meditation. So to enquire into meditation, you have to enquire first not only measurement, but also this constant becoming something, psychologically. Human beings are violent, and the ideal to be in a state of non-violence, which is to become.

So the question is not how to meditate but what is meditation, rather than how. I hope I am making myself clear. And also there is a question involved in that: who is meditating? And most of The Systems of meditation , whether The Japanese , and The hindus, and so on, Tibetan, there is always the controller and the controlled. Right? Are we meeting each other? So there is the controller controlling thought, to quieten the thought, to shape thought according to a purposeful direction. So there is the controller and the controlled. Who is the controller?

Please, all this is implied in meditation, not merely to control one’s thought as is generally understood in meditation, whether it is Zen meditation, or the most complex forms of meditation which take place in India, and elsewhere, there is always the director, the entity that controls thought. SoThey’ve essentially created this psychological split between the one doing the thinking and the thoughts themselves. Because of that, the thinker detaches himself from the actual process of thinking—which leads to this idea that during meditation, there’s some sort of "controller" stepping in to manage and quiet down the thoughts.

It creates this fundamental divide between the controller and what is being controlled. Makes sense, right? But here’s the kicker: who actually *is* the controller? Honestly, hardly anyone ever stops to ask that.
Most people are just thrilled to dive into meditation because they’re chasing a specific destination—you know, things like sudden illumination, total enlightenment, a quieted brain, or just some much-needed peace of mind. But very, very few people actually take a moment to inquire: who is this controller I'm trying to use?

------------------

And hey, if there’s anything else that still feels a bit fuzzy... just ask. 🙂

No, I think Krishnamurti does an excellent job here of describing what meditation is NOT. If you just read your quote without any context, you might walk away thinking he was actually against meditation. What meditation truly IS, however, is described right here:

As Krishnamurti once said:

Meditation is essentially the moment when thought finally comes to an end. It’s only once that noise settles that you can actually step into a different dimension—one that exists entirely beyond the constraints of time.

A truly meditative mind is defined by silence. I’m not talking about the quiet you feel on a calm evening or the kind of stillness you can just imagine; I mean the profound silence that occurs only when thought—with all its constant stream of images, words, and perceptions—completely stops. This meditative mind is The religious mind – The religion that is not touched by The church , The temple or by chants - Meditation is One of The Greatest Arts in Life – perhaps The Greatest.

Meditation is truly one of life's finest arts—honestly, maybe even the greatest. The best part? You can’t actually learn it from anyone else. There’s a certain beauty in that. Since there’s no specific technique to master, there’s no authority figure telling you you're doing it "wrong." It really comes down to self-discovery. If you can just observe yourself—watching how you walk, how you eat, the things you say, or even those little moments of gossip, resentment, or jealousy—that's where it starts. Being fully aware of all that within yourself, without judging or trying to pick and choose what to feel, is a fundamental part of meditation.

Meditation isn't just about sitting still on a cushion. It can happen anywhere—whether you're riding the bus through downtown Chicago, strolling through a sun-dappled forest, listening to the local songbirds, or simply catching a quiet moment while looking at the face of your spouse or your child.

- It is fascinating how vital meditation truly is; it feels as though it has no starting point and no finish line. Think of it like a single raindrop that feeds all the winding streams, massive rivers, oceans, and roaring waterfalls; that one drop sustains the entire planet and everyone on it. Without it, the world would just be a barren desert. In the same way, without meditation, the human heart turns into a wasteland.

- Let's be honest, meditation is actual work. It requires a very specific kind of discipline—not the kind where you just follow the crowd, imitate others, or obey rules—but a discipline born from staying constantly aware, not just of your surroundings, but of what's happening deep inside you.

- If you haven't built a foundation of integrity in your daily life, meditation just becomes a way to run away from reality, which makes it pretty much useless. Living with integrity isn't about sticking to social etiquette; it's about finding freedom from envy, greed, and the hunger for power—things that only ever create conflict. You don't get free from those things by trying harder with sheer willpower; you get there by becoming aware of them through genuine self-knowledge. If you don't understand how your own ego operates, meditation just turns into a form of sensory stimulation, which doesn't really mean much.

- Meditation is truly extraordinary. If you don't grasp what it actually is, you're a bit like someone who is blind living in a world full of vibrant colors, shifting shadows, and dancing light. It isn't some purely intellectual exercise. But when the heart truly connects with the mind, the mind changes entirely; it becomes limitless—not just in how it thinks or acts effectively, but in its ability to feel like you are part of a vast, interconnected space where you belong to everything.

Jeremy Palmer said:So, what exactly do you think meditation creates?

A truly steady mind—one rooted deeply in its own being—remains calm regardless of what’s happening around it. It doesn't get to pick and choose when to be verbally aggressive and when to be tolerant; it stays consistent through thick and thin. What you're describing sounds more like typical human reactivity. We tend to cloud our judgment with selectivity, pre-judging every situation before it even unfolds. We often convince ourselves we have some sort of right to lash out at others just because, in our opinion, they "deserve" it. But let's be real: verbal aggression is always aggression. And if it isn't a heat-of-the-moment outburst, but rather something calculated and planned? Then it's nothing more than plain old sadism.

No, I think Krishnamurti does an excellent job here of describing what meditation is NOT. If you just read your quote without any context, you might walk away thinking he was actually against meditation. What meditation truly IS, however, is described right here:

As Krishnamurti once said:

Meditation is essentially the moment when thought finally comes to an end. It’s only once that noise settles that you can actually step into a different dimension—one that exists entirely beyond the constraints of time.

A truly meditative mind is defined by silence. I’m not talking about the quiet you feel on a calm evening or the kind of stillness you can just imagine; I mean the profound silence that occurs only when thought—with all its constant stream of images, words, and perceptions—completely stops. This meditative mind is The religious mind – The religion that is not touched by The church , The temple or by chants - Meditation is One of The Greatest Arts in Life – perhaps The Greatest.

Meditation is truly one of life's finest arts—honestly, maybe even the greatest. The best part? You can’t actually learn it from anyone else. There’s a certain beauty in that. Since there’s no specific technique to master, there’s no authority figure telling you you're doing it "wrong." It really comes down to self-discovery. If you can just observe yourself—watching how you walk, how you eat, the things you say, or even those little moments of gossip, resentment, or jealousy—that's where it starts. Being fully aware of all that within yourself, without judging or trying to pick and choose what to feel, is a fundamental part of meditation.

Meditation isn't just about sitting still on a cushion. It can happen anywhere—whether you're riding the bus through downtown Chicago, strolling through a sun-dappled forest, listening to the local songbirds, or simply catching a quiet moment while looking at the face of your spouse or your child.

- It is fascinating how vital meditation truly is; it feels as though it has no starting point and no finish line. Think of it like a single raindrop that feeds all the winding streams, massive rivers, oceans, and roaring waterfalls; that one drop sustains the entire planet and everyone on it. Without it, the world would just be a barren desert. In the same way, without meditation, the human heart turns into a wasteland.

- Let's be honest, meditation is actual work. It requires a very specific kind of discipline—not the kind where you just follow the crowd, imitate others, or obey rules—but a discipline born from staying constantly aware, not just of your surroundings, but of what's happening deep inside you.

- If you haven't built a foundation of integrity in your daily life, meditation just becomes a way to run away from reality, which makes it pretty much useless. Living with integrity isn't about sticking to social etiquette; it's about finding freedom from envy, greed, and the hunger for power—things that only ever create conflict. You don't get free from those things by trying harder with sheer willpower; you get there by becoming aware of them through genuine self-knowledge. If you don't understand how your own ego operates, meditation just turns into a form of sensory stimulation, which doesn't really mean much.

- Meditation is truly extraordinary. If you don't grasp what it actually is, you're a bit like someone who is blind living in a world full of vibrant colors, shifting shadows, and dancing light. It isn't some purely intellectual exercise. But when the heart truly connects with the mind, the mind changes entirely; it becomes limitless—not just in how it thinks or acts effectively, but in its ability to feel like you are part of a vast, interconnected space where you belong to everything.

Absolutely nothing. It’s just a way of living that tends to cause fewer headaches than other ways of living. It’s kind of like interpretive dance—it doesn't "create" anything tangible... the art is in the dancing itself, or rather, in the living.

Quincy:

A calm, steady mind in people who are truly grounded in their inner being remains peaceful regardless of the circumstances; they don't pick and choose when to be verbally aggressive versus when to stay tolerant—they remain consistent through everything.

I bet you’ve never heard of Zen Buddhists frequently drawing katanas, fighting wars, or killing when necessary, have you? 🙄

Even plants—which don't even have a "mind"—aren't the same under all conditions; they react differently depending on what's happening around them. They turn toward the sun, they bloom in the spring... things like that. 🙂

Basically, if you think meditation should result in you reacting to everything with total indifference... well, the only way to achieve that would be a lobotomy. As long as you have a brain, fire is hot and ice is cold. 😉

Quincy:

What you're describing is just standard human reactivity.

Exactly. Reactivity is what separates us from rocks. You can pick up a rock and throw it, and it won't have any capacity to react. Humans, fortunately, do—it just seems some people think losing that ability is some kind of "spiritual achievement." 🙄

Quincy:

...clouded by some sort of rule that we should be verbally aggressive toward others because, in our judgment, they deserve it.

And what should we do instead... just stop making judgments? Haven't you just "judged" me right now by deciding you don't agree with my judgment?

Or do you think it's "spiritual" to reduce oneself to the reactivity of a stone—to witness everything that passes by, whether it's pure stupidity or a brilliant idea, with the exact same lack of response?

Quincy:

Verbal aggression is always aggression, and when it isn't fueled by emotion but is instead calculated, it’s just plain old sadism.

Why do you assume your judgment is any less "clouded" than mine? Is it because some "guru" told you so, or because you're playing around with certain "spiritual rules" that supposedly transcend my "clouded" ones?

Quincy:

No, in this quote, Krishnamurti does a brilliant job of describing what meditation IS NOT. If you read your quote out of context, you might actually think he’s against meditation—which isn't the case at all. What meditation actually IS, he describes right here:

Unfortunately, it seems like you aren't quite grasping what Krishnamurti is getting at, because not a single part of his text stands in opposition to meditation. He’s simply posing some vital questions.

Even within the quote you provided, the same questions and conclusions remain:

Quincy:

It has no technique and therefore no authority. When you learn about yourself, watch yourself, watch the way you walk, how you eat, what you say, the gossip, the hate, the jealousy – if you are aware of all that in yourself, without any choice, that is part of meditation.

So, there is NO TECHNIQUE and NO AUTHORITY. Sitting in some specific posture and concentrating on whatever "technique" you're told to follow is still just a technique handed down to you by some authority figure.

That is exactly what I’ve been saying.

Quincy:

- It’s curious how all important meditation becomes, there’s no end to it nor is there a beginning to it.

So, if there is no beginning and no end... then what's the point of sitting in "cool" poses and trying to split yourself into a "controller" and the "controlled"?

Quincy:

Without laying the foundation of a righteous life, meditation becomes an escape and therefore has no value whatsoever.

From where I'm standing, everyone here is talking about sitting, shaving, concentration, techniques, being non-reactive, political correctness, authorities...

But nobody is talking about the "foundation of a good life," which is the absolute priority and a prerequisite for meditation. Without that, sitting and meditating is just a distraction—a way to delay actual change by creating the illusion that you're measuring your own progress or moving toward some goal.

Quincy:

Without knowing the activities of the self, meditation becomes sensuous excitement and therefore of very little significance.

Anyone who thinks they should react equally to every circumstance clearly has a major issue with self-knowledge. And anyone judging others' reactions is only proving they are unaware of their own reactive and judgmental nature. Therefore, meditating in that state serves very little purpose or benefit.

Do you actually understand what you quoted as a "counter-argument," or did you just get hung up on his poetic metaphors regarding meditation?

Quincy:

It is not an intellectual affair, but when the heart enters into the mind, the mind has quite a different quality; it is really, then, limitless, not only in its capacity to think,to act with precision, but also in the sense of existing within a massive expanse where you’re woven into the very fabric of everything.

So, look—meditation doesn't just shut the mind down. Instead, someone actually living a meditative life possesses "a different quality of mind"—that ability not just to think, but to "respond effectively" (meaning, we aren't tossing out "normal human reactivity" entirely).

Dammit... I honestly feel like you haven't grasped the core of this at all, moving far beyond just simple metaphors. You haven't caught my drift, and you haven't even caught the essence of your own Krishnamurti quote.

Honestly, given how much you seem to be misinterpreting what's being said, I don't really have the heart to keep this discussion going. It's pretty clear you're just reading what you want to see rather than what's actually on the page. Because of that, you're reading my posts through that same lens, which leads to these unnecessary reactions where you end up using my own arguments against me. While it was kind of cute in a way, it's getting tedious and you're mostly just undermining your own point. It's probably best if we just steer clear of these kinds of debates moving forward. 😉

hiddenhound3 said:Quincy:

Edward Flores4 As specified by Edward Flores4: Krishnamurti describes the core dilemma of meditation quite brilliantly, and his perspective aligns perfectly with my own understanding of the issue.

I find myself in general agreement with the notion that meditation is far from being merely a matter of dedicating a few minutes or even several hours each day to sitting in silence and attempting to clear one's thoughts. Rather, every single moment of the day can be lived through a meditative lens; in fact, I shall be bold enough to assert that meditation is, in essence, an overall state of mind.

Exactly. Meditation is basically a constant resistance against the hypnosis that most people spend their entire lives stuck in. It’s this hypnotic state—whether they’re inducing it themselves or just falling under the spell of some social group, a religion, a cult, a guru, a politician, an ideology, or even just the mass media.

Meditation is pure perception—stripped of all ambition, stripped of any kind of measurement (you know, that habit of using "metrics" as the foundation for all supposed "spiritual growth" or "progress"), and stripped of that separation between the thinker and the thought. When someone splits themselves into the thought and the thinker, and then that thinker tries to control the thoughts... well, they just end up in a state of total paralysis. That isn't meditation at all.

Edward Flores4 said:Exactly. Meditation is basically a constant resistance against the hypnosis that most people spend their entire lives stuck in. It’s this hypnotic state—whether they’re inducing it themselves or just falling under the spell of some social group, a religion, a cult, a guru, a politician, an ideology, or even just the mass media.

Meditation is pure perception—stripped of all ambition, stripped of any kind of measurement (you know, that habit of using "metrics" as the foundation for all supposed "spiritual growth" or "progress"), and stripped of that separation between the thinker and the thought. When someone splits themselves into the thought and the thinker, and then that thinker tries to control the thoughts... well, they just end up in a state of total paralysis. That isn't meditation at all.

I find it quite amusing when a friend comes to me claiming they have meditated for two hours. How can a person in such a state possibly maintain any sense of time? 😕 It is as if they believe they have simply completed a chore and are now free to move on. 🤣

It’s pretty obvious to me that this whole concept is just a direct parallel to Catholic prayer. It feels like an act meant to heal or soothe one's conscience... almost like a way to compensate for being irresponsible in other areas of life. Just a pure formality, really.

Edward Flores4 said:Absolutely nothing. It’s just a way of living that tends to cause fewer headaches than other ways of living. It’s kind of like interpretive dance—it doesn't "create" anything tangible... the art is in the dancing itself, or rather, in the living.

Quincy:

A calm, steady mind in people who are truly grounded in their inner being remains peaceful regardless of the circumstances; they don't pick and choose when to be verbally aggressive versus when to stay tolerant—they remain consistent through everything.

I bet you’ve never heard of Zen Buddhists frequently drawing katanas, fighting wars, or killing when necessary, have you? 🙄

Even plants—which don't even have a "mind"—aren't the same under all conditions; they react differently depending on what's happening around them. They turn toward the sun, they bloom in the spring... things like that. 🙂

Basically, if you think meditation should result in you reacting to everything with total indifference... well, the only way to achieve that would be a lobotomy. As long as you have a brain, fire is hot and ice is cold. 😉

Quincy:

What you're describing is just standard human reactivity.

Exactly. Reactivity is what separates us from rocks. You can pick up a rock and throw it, and it won't have any capacity to react. Humans, fortunately, do—it just seems some people think losing that ability is some kind of "spiritual achievement." 🙄

Quincy:

...clouded by some sort of rule that we should be verbally aggressive toward others because, in our judgment, they deserve it.

And what should we do instead... just stop making judgments? Haven't you just "judged" me right now by deciding you don't agree with my judgment?

Or do you think it's "spiritual" to reduce oneself to the reactivity of a stone—to witness everything that passes by, whether it's pure stupidity or a brilliant idea, with the exact same lack of response?

Quincy:

Verbal aggression is always aggression, and when it isn't fueled by emotion but is instead calculated, it’s just plain old sadism.

Why do you assume your judgment is any less "clouded" than mine? Is it because some "guru" told you so, or because you're playing around with certain "spiritual rules" that supposedly transcend my "clouded" ones?

Quincy:

No, in this quote, Krishnamurti does a brilliant job of describing what meditation IS NOT. If you read your quote out of context, you might actually think he’s against meditation—which isn't the case at all. What meditation actually IS, he describes right here:

Unfortunately, it seems like you aren't quite grasping what Krishnamurti is getting at, because not a single part of his text stands in opposition to meditation. He’s simply posing some vital questions.

Even within the quote you provided, the same questions and conclusions remain:

Quincy:

It has no technique and therefore no authority. When you learn about yourself, watch yourself, watch the way you walk, how you eat, what you say, the gossip, the hate, the jealousy – if you are aware of all that in yourself, without any choice, that is part of meditation.

So, there is NO TECHNIQUE and NO AUTHORITY. Sitting in some specific posture and concentrating on whatever "technique" you're told to follow is still just a technique handed down to you by some authority figure.

That is exactly what I’ve been saying.

Quincy:

- It’s curious how all important meditation becomes, there’s no end to it nor is there a beginning to it.

So, if there is no beginning and no end... then what's the point of sitting in "cool" poses and trying to split yourself into a "controller" and the "controlled"?

Quincy:

Without laying the foundation of a righteous life, meditation becomes an escape and therefore has no value whatsoever.

From where I'm standing, everyone here is talking about sitting, shaving, concentration, techniques, being non-reactive, political correctness, authorities...

But nobody is talking about the "foundation of a good life," which is the absolute priority and a prerequisite for meditation. Without that, sitting and meditating is just a distraction—a way to delay actual change by creating the illusion that you're measuring your own progress or moving toward some goal.

Quincy:

Without knowing the activities of the self, meditation becomes sensuous excitement and therefore of very little significance.

Anyone who thinks they should react equally to every circumstance clearly has a major issue with self-knowledge. And anyone judging others' reactions is only proving they are unaware of their own reactive and judgmental nature. Therefore, meditating in that state serves very little purpose or benefit.

Do you actually understand what you quoted as a "counter-argument," or did you just get hung up on his poetic metaphors regarding meditation?

Quincy:

It is not an intellectual affair, but when the heart enters into the mind, the mind has quite a different quality; it is really, then, limitless, not only in its capacity to think,to act with precision, but also in the sense of existing within a massive expanse where you’re woven into the very fabric of everything.

So, look—meditation doesn't just shut the mind down. Instead, someone actually living a meditative life possesses "a different quality of mind"—that ability not just to think, but to "respond effectively" (meaning, we aren't tossing out "normal human reactivity" entirely).

Dammit... I honestly feel like you haven't grasped the core of this at all, moving far beyond just simple metaphors. You haven't caught my drift, and you haven't even caught the essence of your own Krishnamurti quote.

Honestly, given how much you seem to be misinterpreting what's being said, I don't really have the heart to keep this discussion going. It's pretty clear you're just reading what you want to see rather than what's actually on the page. Because of that, you're reading my posts through that same lens, which leads to these unnecessary reactions where you end up using my own arguments against me. While it was kind of cute in a way, it's getting tedious and you're mostly just undermining your own point. It's probably best if we just steer clear of these kinds of debates moving forward. 😉

Once again, we have someone drawing conclusions without having any actual knowledge or experience to back them up.
Claiming that meditation is a lifestyle that brings fewer problems while simultaneously reacting to a single post with a massive outburst of anger and rage—all because someone bruised an ego that had drifted into a state where you couldn't even control it anymore, leading you to lash out at everyone until you needed a timeout. 😍
To me, that just screams that you haven't the slightest clue what meditation actually is or how it works.
Someone who truly meditates and has progressed on that path has the capacity to choose how they respond. They might choose not to react because they don't take everything personally, or because they are masters of their own thoughts, emotions, and words. They act with intention, and they certainly wouldn't allow themselves to create the kind of karma you seem to be building up.
A person who lives in a meditative state 24/7 is essentially a sanctuary of peace, love, and tolerance.

Furthermore, you claim there's no technique and no authority, yet here you are quoting Krishnamurti and peddling his theories on what meditation is.

If meditation is supposed to be a way of life that creates fewer problems, why don't you try applying it just once? Maybe then other people's words wouldn't hit you so hard.
Lest we get carried away, let's just say that you demonstrate your "knowledge" of meditation through your actions and your words—from which it's pretty easy to conclude that you don't understand it at all. You clearly aren't practicing it, let alone living in that state 24 hours a day. 😉

I told Shaman that while they were quoting what might be an obstacle in meditation—what meditation isn't—I wanted to offer a few quotes about what meditation actually is. I wasn't trying to pick a fight or push back against anything you said. I was just building on your points, adding a little more since you already brought up Krishnamurti, just to broaden out HIS vision of meditation.

You seem to think that sitting down for specific meditation sessions isn't the point, but rather that a meditative state should be a way of life. In your view, the goal of meditation is

Edward Flores4 said:Absolutely nothing. It’s just a way of living that tends to cause fewer headaches than other ways of living. It’s kind of like interpretive dance—it doesn't "create" anything tangible... the art is in the dancing itself, or rather, in the living.

Quincy:

A calm, steady mind in people who are truly grounded in their inner being remains peaceful regardless of the circumstances; they don't pick and choose when to be verbally aggressive versus when to stay tolerant—they remain consistent through everything.

I bet you’ve never heard of Zen Buddhists frequently drawing katanas, fighting wars, or killing when necessary, have you? 🙄

Even plants—which don't even have a "mind"—aren't the same under all conditions; they react differently depending on what's happening around them. They turn toward the sun, they bloom in the spring... things like that. 🙂

Basically, if you think meditation should result in you reacting to everything with total indifference... well, the only way to achieve that would be a lobotomy. As long as you have a brain, fire is hot and ice is cold. 😉

Quincy:

What you're describing is just standard human reactivity.

Exactly. Reactivity is what separates us from rocks. You can pick up a rock and throw it, and it won't have any capacity to react. Humans, fortunately, do—it just seems some people think losing that ability is some kind of "spiritual achievement." 🙄

Quincy:

...clouded by some sort of rule that we should be verbally aggressive toward others because, in our judgment, they deserve it.

And what should we do instead... just stop making judgments? Haven't you just "judged" me right now by deciding you don't agree with my judgment?

Or do you think it's "spiritual" to reduce oneself to the reactivity of a stone—to witness everything that passes by, whether it's pure stupidity or a brilliant idea, with the exact same lack of response?

Quincy:

Verbal aggression is always aggression, and when it isn't fueled by emotion but is instead calculated, it’s just plain old sadism.

Why do you assume your judgment is any less "clouded" than mine? Is it because some "guru" told you so, or because you're playing around with certain "spiritual rules" that supposedly transcend my "clouded" ones?

Quincy:

No, in this quote, Krishnamurti does a brilliant job of describing what meditation IS NOT. If you read your quote out of context, you might actually think he’s against meditation—which isn't the case at all. What meditation actually IS, he describes right here:

Unfortunately, it seems like you aren't quite grasping what Krishnamurti is getting at, because not a single part of his text stands in opposition to meditation. He’s simply posing some vital questions.

Even within the quote you provided, the same questions and conclusions remain:

Quincy:

It has no technique and therefore no authority. When you learn about yourself, watch yourself, watch the way you walk, how you eat, what you say, the gossip, the hate, the jealousy – if you are aware of all that in yourself, without any choice, that is part of meditation.

So, there is NO TECHNIQUE and NO AUTHORITY. Sitting in some specific posture and concentrating on whatever "technique" you're told to follow is still just a technique handed down to you by some authority figure.

That is exactly what I’ve been saying.

Quincy:

- It’s curious how all important meditation becomes, there’s no end to it nor is there a beginning to it.

So, if there is no beginning and no end... then what's the point of sitting in "cool" poses and trying to split yourself into a "controller" and the "controlled"?

Quincy:

Without laying the foundation of a righteous life, meditation becomes an escape and therefore has no value whatsoever.

From where I'm standing, everyone here is talking about sitting, shaving, concentration, techniques, being non-reactive, political correctness, authorities...

But nobody is talking about the "foundation of a good life," which is the absolute priority and a prerequisite for meditation. Without that, sitting and meditating is just a distraction—a way to delay actual change by creating the illusion that you're measuring your own progress or moving toward some goal.

Quincy:

Without knowing the activities of the self, meditation becomes sensuous excitement and therefore of very little significance.

Anyone who thinks they should react equally to every circumstance clearly has a major issue with self-knowledge. And anyone judging others' reactions is only proving they are unaware of their own reactive and judgmental nature. Therefore, meditating in that state serves very little purpose or benefit.

Do you actually understand what you quoted as a "counter-argument," or did you just get hung up on his poetic metaphors regarding meditation?

Quincy:

It is not an intellectual affair, but when the heart enters into the mind, the mind has quite a different quality; it is really, then, limitless, not only in its capacity to think,to act with precision, but also in the sense of existing within a massive expanse where you’re woven into the very fabric of everything.

So, look—meditation doesn't just shut the mind down. Instead, someone actually living a meditative life possesses "a different quality of mind"—that ability not just to think, but to "respond effectively" (meaning, we aren't tossing out "normal human reactivity" entirely).

Dammit... I honestly feel like you haven't grasped the core of this at all, moving far beyond just simple metaphors. You haven't caught my drift, and you haven't even caught the essence of your own Krishnamurti quote.

Honestly, given how much you seem to be misinterpreting what's being said, I don't really have the heart to keep this discussion going. It's pretty clear you're just reading what you want to see rather than what's actually on the page. Because of that, you're reading my posts through that same lens, which leads to these unnecessary reactions where you end up using my own arguments against me. While it was kind of cute in a way, it's getting tedious and you're mostly just undermining your own point. It's probably best if we just steer clear of these kinds of debates moving forward. 😉

And I totally agree with that! But, I’d just like to ADD my own perspective to the mix.

To me, meditation is a journey of self-discovery that takes place in the solitude of one's inner being, far away from the noise of the outside world. To truly enter that silence, a person has to develop the skill to detach themselves from the mental chatter, the obsessions, and the powerful illusions that keep us trapped in a dream world.

In that sense, meditative techniques serve as a guide, leading the seeker into that inner space. Once someone finds that silence—once they learn how to distance themselves from the constant stream of thoughts, from falsehoods, from obsessions, and from the endless cycle of chasing pleasure and running from pain—once that silence becomes their reality, then meditation truly does become a way of life. At that point, formal sitting becomes almost redundant. I don't think it's about using one specific technique or one particular mantra; it's an art that, as Krishnamurti suggests, everyone needs to cultivate with the help of their own internal pilot. Very few people can spontaneously develop that level of intense inner presence and silence without some prior training.

In this complete silence of intense, thoughtless presence (or more often, where rare thoughts simply no longer touch the practitioner) within the solitude of an inner space grounded solely in awareness, a person isn't going anywhere. Paradoxically, they accept the world they are in completely. In fact, they develop a deep sensitivity to everything around them and a profound sense of belonging to the world, which brings that sense of ease—like the dance you mentioned. By acting from that silence, a person realizes that the whole is acting through them, and there's no need to do anything special, because, really, they can't "do" anything at all.

As for reactivity—that’s usually just a response to a stimulus. For someone immersed in a constant flow of meditation, a stimulus doesn't cause any internal friction. That doesn't mean they aren't responding; they provide an answer, and it’s always the right one. Not because they are particularly clever, but because the "ego" is no longer there to interfere; life simply expresses itself through them because they offer no resistance.

Anyway, please don't be annoyed, and definitely don't take this personally! 🙂

casualmaker13 said:Once again, we have someone drawing conclusions without having any actual knowledge or experience to back them up.
Claiming that meditation is a lifestyle that brings fewer problems while simultaneously reacting to a single post with a massive outburst of anger and rage—all because someone bruised an ego that had drifted into a state where you couldn't even control it anymore, leading you to lash out at everyone until you needed a timeout. 😍
To me, that just screams that you haven't the slightest clue what meditation actually is or how it works.
Someone who truly meditates and has progressed on that path has the capacity to choose how they respond. They might choose not to react because they don't take everything personally, or because they are masters of their own thoughts, emotions, and words. They act with intention, and they certainly wouldn't allow themselves to create the kind of karma you seem to be building up.
A person who lives in a meditative state 24/7 is essentially a sanctuary of peace, love, and tolerance.

Furthermore, you claim there's no technique and no authority, yet here you are quoting Krishnamurti and peddling his theories on what meditation is.

If meditation is supposed to be a way of life that creates fewer problems, why don't you try applying it just once? Maybe then other people's words wouldn't hit you so hard.
Lest we get carried away, let's just say that you demonstrate your "knowledge" of meditation through your actions and your words—from which it's pretty easy to conclude that you don't understand it at all. You clearly aren't practicing it, let alone living in that state 24 hours a day. 😉

First off... everything you read in my deleted post was just my honest take on you. It wasn't some emotional outburst or me being angry; it was simply stating the facts as I see them.

Secondly... you don't honestly think I'm going to fall for the same trick twice, do you? You start poking the bear, and then once I give you my perspective, Dragan starts handing out penalties, wipes my reply, and edits your provocations to make it look like my response came out of nowhere. Besides... you already know everything I have to say to you. If your memory is failing you... ask Dragan to send you a copy-paste of my last post so you can give it another read. I actually think you might even be able to find it in the official grievance PDF.🙂

As for you, this one seems to fit perfectly:
Democracy is a government where you can say what you think even if you don't think.

Jeremy Palmer said:I told Shaman that while they were quoting what might be an obstacle in meditation—what meditation isn't—I wanted to offer a few quotes about what meditation actually is. I wasn't trying to pick a fight or push back against anything you said. I was just building on your points, adding a little more since you already brought up Krishnamurti, just to broaden out HIS vision of meditation.

You seem to think that sitting down for specific meditation sessions isn't the point, but rather that a meditative state should be a way of life. In your view, the goal of meditation is

And I totally agree with that! But, I’d just like to ADD my own perspective to the mix.

To me, meditation is a journey of self-discovery that takes place in the solitude of one's inner being, far away from the noise of the outside world. To truly enter that silence, a person has to develop the skill to detach themselves from the mental chatter, the obsessions, and the powerful illusions that keep us trapped in a dream world.

In that sense, meditative techniques serve as a guide, leading the seeker into that inner space. Once someone finds that silence—once they learn how to distance themselves from the constant stream of thoughts, from falsehoods, from obsessions, and from the endless cycle of chasing pleasure and running from pain—once that silence becomes their reality, then meditation truly does become a way of life. At that point, formal sitting becomes almost redundant. I don't think it's about using one specific technique or one particular mantra; it's an art that, as Krishnamurti suggests, everyone needs to cultivate with the help of their own internal pilot. Very few people can spontaneously develop that level of intense inner presence and silence without some prior training.

In this complete silence of intense, thoughtless presence (or more often, where rare thoughts simply no longer touch the practitioner) within the solitude of an inner space grounded solely in awareness, a person isn't going anywhere. Paradoxically, they accept the world they are in completely. In fact, they develop a deep sensitivity to everything around them and a profound sense of belonging to the world, which brings that sense of ease—like the dance you mentioned. By acting from that silence, a person realizes that the whole is acting through them, and there's no need to do anything special, because, really, they can't "do" anything at all.

As for reactivity—that’s usually just a response to a stimulus. For someone immersed in a constant flow of meditation, a stimulus doesn't cause any internal friction. That doesn't mean they aren't responding; they provide an answer, and it’s always the right one. Not because they are particularly clever, but because the "ego" is no longer there to interfere; life simply expresses itself through them because they offer no resistance.

Anyway, please don't be annoyed, and definitely don't take this personally! 🙂

Exactly. I honestly think that’s just a convenient excuse to sneak the concept of measurement—you know, that whole "tracking incremental progress" thing—into meditation. By doing that, you’re essentially just pushing away actual, immediate transformation. It’s the exact same trap Krishnamurti was warning us about.

Quincy:

It’s actually pretty rare to find someone who can just dive straight into that intense level of inner presence—you know, that deep, quiet stillness—without having put in some serious groundwork or training first. Most people can't just flip a switch and be there spontaneously; it usually takes a bit of practice to get to that point.

Only those people really get into true meditation. Anything that isn't spontaneous—well, it just isn't meditation. Real meditation can only happen when you’re acting spontaneously, completely free from that constant "mental calculation" we all do. It’s about that direct, raw reactivity to pure perception. When you sit down with a plan, saying, "Okay, I am going to sit here and meditate now," that isn't spontaneous at all... it’s something you’ve scheduled and measured, something where you’re actually expecting a specific result.

Quincy:

It’s actually kind of a paradox—the world doesn't just accept this state, it fully embraces it. In fact, you start developing this incredible sensitivity to everything around you, paired with this profound sense of belonging to the entire universe. It gives you this natural flow, almost like the effortless grace of a dancer—which is exactly what you were getting at earlier. When you finally learn to act from that deep, inner silence, you realize that the whole of existence is moving through you. You stop feeling the need to force things or perform specific tasks, because, honestly, you realize you aren't even capable of acting independently from that wholeness.

You know how Americans have that saying... you know all the words to the song, but you haven't got a clue what the melody sounds like.

The silence you’re talking about—it actually has nothing to do with sound. Think about it like this: imagine you're standing outside on New Year's Eve, right in the middle of a big city like Chicago, and suddenly the fireworks start going off everywhere. Just total chaos—crackers popping, booms echoing from every direction, constant noise hitting you from all sides... and yet, in that exact moment, there's this absolute, profound silence inside your head. 😉

Quincy:

When we talk about reactivity, we have to realize it’s really just a byproduct of being triggered. It's like a reflex—if you're constantly being poked, you're going to jump. But for someone who is deeply immersed in a steady flow of meditation, those triggers don't really find any purchase. They don't cause that internal echo or emotional splashback. Now, don't get me wrong—that doesn't mean nothing is happening. There is still an action, a response, but it’s always the right one. And it isn't because the person has become some sort of genius or a master strategist; it’s actually much simpler than that. It’s because there is no longer a "self" standing there to take the hit. Since there's no ego left inside to push back or get defensive, life itself just flows through them without any friction. It’s like water flowing around a stone—except in this case, the stone has essentially dissolved, so the water just moves naturally, expressing itself exactly how it needs to.

We’re all basically swimming in a constant, flowing stream of meditation... it's always there. The problem is that most people have just become experts at tuning it out. And even for those who actually make the decision to sit down and meditate again—you know, to really dive back in—the vast majority find every possible way to push it off. They fall into this endless loop of making excuses, constantly telling themselves they need to spend more time "working on themselves" before they're finally ready to actually sit still.

It’s actually quite simple—someone who lives in a constant state of meditation is exactly who they are supposed to be. There isn't some grand transformation needed because a person is perpetually evolving on their own, just by being alive. All we really have to do is stop getting in our own way—you know, those little mental habits where we fixate on things or spin stories to justify why we feel the way we do. The second you let go of that intense, narrow focus—that desperate need to pin everything down and label it—meditation just happens. It’s like stepping out of a crowded, noisy room into a quiet garden; the stillness was always there, you were just too distracted to notice it. This is actually the natural state of consciousness. We only feel like we need all those complicated routines, specific techniques, rigid ideologies, or even "spellbinding" language because we’ve spent so much time disrupting our own peace. If we could just stop trying so hard to "do" it, we'd realize it's already happening.

Quincy:

Look, don't get worked up—and please, definitely don't take this personally.

I’m really not taking anything personally here... All I see on my monitor is just a bunch of letters on a screen. There isn't a single actual person existing on my display, 🙂

Edward Flores4 said:Exactly. I honestly think that’s just a convenient excuse to sneak the concept of measurement—you know, that whole "tracking incremental progress" thing—into meditation. By doing that, you’re essentially just pushing away actual, immediate transformation. It’s the exact same trap Krishnamurti was warning us about.

Quincy:

It’s actually pretty rare to find someone who can just dive straight into that intense level of inner presence—you know, that deep, quiet stillness—without having put in some serious groundwork or training first. Most people can't just flip a switch and be there spontaneously; it usually takes a bit of practice to get to that point.

Only those people really get into true meditation. Anything that isn't spontaneous—well, it just isn't meditation. Real meditation can only happen when you’re acting spontaneously, completely free from that constant "mental calculation" we all do. It’s about that direct, raw reactivity to pure perception. When you sit down with a plan, saying, "Okay, I am going to sit here and meditate now," that isn't spontaneous at all... it’s something you’ve scheduled and measured, something where you’re actually expecting a specific result.

Quincy:

It’s actually kind of a paradox—the world doesn't just accept this state, it fully embraces it. In fact, you start developing this incredible sensitivity to everything around you, paired with this profound sense of belonging to the entire universe. It gives you this natural flow, almost like the effortless grace of a dancer—which is exactly what you were getting at earlier. When you finally learn to act from that deep, inner silence, you realize that the whole of existence is moving through you. You stop feeling the need to force things or perform specific tasks, because, honestly, you realize you aren't even capable of acting independently from that wholeness.

You know how Americans have that saying... you know all the words to the song, but you haven't got a clue what the melody sounds like.

The silence you’re talking about—it actually has nothing to do with sound. Think about it like this: imagine you're standing outside on New Year's Eve, right in the middle of a big city like Chicago, and suddenly the fireworks start going off everywhere. Just total chaos—crackers popping, booms echoing from every direction, constant noise hitting you from all sides... and yet, in that exact moment, there's this absolute, profound silence inside your head. 😉

Quincy:

When we talk about reactivity, we have to realize it’s really just a byproduct of being triggered. It's like a reflex—if you're constantly being poked, you're going to jump. But for someone who is deeply immersed in a steady flow of meditation, those triggers don't really find any purchase. They don't cause that internal echo or emotional splashback. Now, don't get me wrong—that doesn't mean nothing is happening. There is still an action, a response, but it’s always the right one. And it isn't because the person has become some sort of genius or a master strategist; it’s actually much simpler than that. It’s because there is no longer a "self" standing there to take the hit. Since there's no ego left inside to push back or get defensive, life itself just flows through them without any friction. It’s like water flowing around a stone—except in this case, the stone has essentially dissolved, so the water just moves naturally, expressing itself exactly how it needs to.

We’re all basically swimming in a constant, flowing stream of meditation... it's always there. The problem is that most people have just become experts at tuning it out. And even for those who actually make the decision to sit down and meditate again—you know, to really dive back in—the vast majority find every possible way to push it off. They fall into this endless loop of making excuses, constantly telling themselves they need to spend more time "working on themselves" before they're finally ready to actually sit still.

It’s actually quite simple—someone who lives in a constant state of meditation is exactly who they are supposed to be. There isn't some grand transformation needed because a person is perpetually evolving on their own, just by being alive. All we really have to do is stop getting in our own way—you know, those little mental habits where we fixate on things or spin stories to justify why we feel the way we do. The second you let go of that intense, narrow focus—that desperate need to pin everything down and label it—meditation just happens. It’s like stepping out of a crowded, noisy room into a quiet garden; the stillness was always there, you were just too distracted to notice it. This is actually the natural state of consciousness. We only feel like we need all those complicated routines, specific techniques, rigid ideologies, or even "spellbinding" language because we’ve spent so much time disrupting our own peace. If we could just stop trying so hard to "do" it, we'd realize it's already happening.

Quincy:

Look, don't get worked up—and please, definitely don't take this personally.

I’m really not taking anything personally here... All I see on my monitor is just a bunch of letters on a screen. There isn't a single actual person existing on my display, 🙂

People who introduce the idea of "measuring" meditation are usually the ones who created the concept of measurement in the first place. It’s actually pretty common at the start, when you’re treating meditation like a goal to be achieved or a task to check off a list. But once you actually stumble upon that inner silence, everything changes. It stops being a chore and starts becoming pure enjoyment. You do it simply because the silence feels beautiful, and you realize you can just keep diving deeper. At that point, you're doing it for the sheer joy of it—much like how someone might go for a long walk or dance just because it feels good. There’s no need for timers or metrics unless you're the type of person who lives by the clock. Most people follow a similar path: first, they calculate and track their progress; then, they start to actually enjoy the process; and eventually, they begin to carry that stillness out of their practice and into their everyday lives. They live within that quietude until the moment comes where they realize they don't even "need" to meditate anymore. They've realized that they *are* the inner silence. That’s when meditation truly becomes a seamless part of living.

Quincy:

Only those types of people actually meditate. Anything that isn't spontaneous just isn't true meditation. Only when things happen spontaneously can you be free from all that mental "calculating." To me, meditation is simply that direct, raw reactivity to pure perception. Setting aside specific time to "sit and meditate" isn't spontaneous at all—it’s just something you schedule and measure, something you approach with an expectation of getting something out of it.

Being spontaneous really means you're naturally detached from the mind. It’s about being effortlessly free from the constant harassment of your own thoughts, emotions, and impulses. When you're truly spontaneous, you aren't reactive anymore; instead, you're grounded in your true self, acting from a place of pure awareness rather than just reacting on a mental level. Honestly, seeing that kind of natural detachment is incredibly rare. Personally, I don't know a single person who was born with that kind of innate clarity.

Quincy:

You know how Americans say it... you know the lyrics, but you just can't catch the tune. The silence you’re talking about isn't actually about sound. Think about it like this: imagine you're standing outside on New Year's Eve, and suddenly, firecrackers start going off everywhere. They're popping one after another, coming from every single direction at once. It’s total chaos. Yet, in that exact moment, you find this absolute, perfect silence inside your head. 😉

The silence I was talking about isn't actually about sound, either. Did you conclude that I meant silence as just an absence of noise? Look, as a Shaman, I’ve been meditating since 1992. I truly understand what it means to meditate with the goal of "fixing" yourself. I know what it feels like to be motivated, to calculate during practice, or to desperately want to become someone else—someone better. I know exactly when meditation starts to feel like a chore, and I know when you encounter the darkness, death, horror, or those bizarre phenomena. I understand the heavy lifting of self-work, as well as the trap of trying too hard to change. I know the danger of postponing your actual life until some future version of yourself arrives—the idea that we'll finally be "better" if we just sit for enough hours, repeat enough mantras, or fast enough. But I also know the magnetic pull of meditation. I know bliss—not just regular bliss, but that overwhelming, almost unbearable, ever-growing bliss. I know the unparalleled joy of it because I know the pull of that true silence. And ultimately, I know what spontaneous meditation feels like. Unfortunately, I also know what it feels like to lose it. I know the lyrics, and I definitely know the tune.

Quincy:

Everyone is constantly immersed in a continuous flow of meditation... it's just that the vast majority of people have learned how to ignore it. And even among those who decide to sit down and meditate (again), most find clever ways to procrastinate, using the eternal excuse that they still need to "work on themselves." Whether someone is in a constant state of meditation or not, they are exactly where they are supposed to be. We are constantly changing... all on our own. All we really need to do is stop obstructing that process with fixations and excuses. The moment you stop trying to perceptually focus and fixate, meditation begins. It is the natural state of consciousness—one that is usually disrupted by routines, techniques, ideologies, and spellbinding (language).

Of course, humans change on their own. No one is actually "doing" anything; it's all the energy behind us. We just hold onto the idea that we are the ones performing the actions. Whether we are breathing, acting, making decisions, or giving important advice to others about what to do or not do, we always assume it’s the result of our free will. But if you accept that free will doesn't really exist as such, then you’ll realize that the same energy that inspires someone to grab a boat and head out fishing is the same energy that inspires someone to sit in meditation. If everything is naturally geared toward our growth because a divine energy is guiding us all toward liberation, and if free will isn't a thing, then there is no free will even for those who formally practice meditation. They are being guided. The others who don't practice are being guided differently. If you meditate naturally and spontaneously and possess clear insight, then you know that everything in the universe is always in perfect balance. Deciding whether to meditate or not is optional, but a sure sign of spiritual maturity is being grounded in an awareness that results in a steady mind—one that acts as a servant rather than the master of your inner space.

🙂

Jeremy Palmer said:People who introduce the idea of "measuring" meditation are usually the ones who created the concept of measurement in the first place. It’s actually pretty common at the start, when you’re treating meditation like a goal to be achieved or a task to check off a list. But once you actually stumble upon that inner silence, everything changes. It stops being a chore and starts becoming pure enjoyment. You do it simply because the silence feels beautiful, and you realize you can just keep diving deeper. At that point, you're doing it for the sheer joy of it—much like how someone might go for a long walk or dance just because it feels good. There’s no need for timers or metrics unless you're the type of person who lives by the clock. Most people follow a similar path: first, they calculate and track their progress; then, they start to actually enjoy the process; and eventually, they begin to carry that stillness out of their practice and into their everyday lives. They live within that quietude until the moment comes where they realize they don't even "need" to meditate anymore. They've realized that they *are* the inner silence. That’s when meditation truly becomes a seamless part of living.

Quincy:

Only those types of people actually meditate. Anything that isn't spontaneous just isn't true meditation. Only when things happen spontaneously can you be free from all that mental "calculating." To me, meditation is simply that direct, raw reactivity to pure perception. Setting aside specific time to "sit and meditate" isn't spontaneous at all—it’s just something you schedule and measure, something you approach with an expectation of getting something out of it.

Being spontaneous really means you're naturally detached from the mind. It’s about being effortlessly free from the constant harassment of your own thoughts, emotions, and impulses. When you're truly spontaneous, you aren't reactive anymore; instead, you're grounded in your true self, acting from a place of pure awareness rather than just reacting on a mental level. Honestly, seeing that kind of natural detachment is incredibly rare. Personally, I don't know a single person who was born with that kind of innate clarity.

Quincy:

You know how Americans say it... you know the lyrics, but you just can't catch the tune. The silence you’re talking about isn't actually about sound. Think about it like this: imagine you're standing outside on New Year's Eve, and suddenly, firecrackers start going off everywhere. They're popping one after another, coming from every single direction at once. It’s total chaos. Yet, in that exact moment, you find this absolute, perfect silence inside your head. 😉

The silence I was talking about isn't actually about sound, either. Did you conclude that I meant silence as just an absence of noise? Look, as a Shaman, I’ve been meditating since 1992. I truly understand what it means to meditate with the goal of "fixing" yourself. I know what it feels like to be motivated, to calculate during practice, or to desperately want to become someone else—someone better. I know exactly when meditation starts to feel like a chore, and I know when you encounter the darkness, death, horror, or those bizarre phenomena. I understand the heavy lifting of self-work, as well as the trap of trying too hard to change. I know the danger of postponing your actual life until some future version of yourself arrives—the idea that we'll finally be "better" if we just sit for enough hours, repeat enough mantras, or fast enough. But I also know the magnetic pull of meditation. I know bliss—not just regular bliss, but that overwhelming, almost unbearable, ever-growing bliss. I know the unparalleled joy of it because I know the pull of that true silence. And ultimately, I know what spontaneous meditation feels like. Unfortunately, I also know what it feels like to lose it. I know the lyrics, and I definitely know the tune.

Quincy:

Everyone is constantly immersed in a continuous flow of meditation... it's just that the vast majority of people have learned how to ignore it. And even among those who decide to sit down and meditate (again), most find clever ways to procrastinate, using the eternal excuse that they still need to "work on themselves." Whether someone is in a constant state of meditation or not, they are exactly where they are supposed to be. We are constantly changing... all on our own. All we really need to do is stop obstructing that process with fixations and excuses. The moment you stop trying to perceptually focus and fixate, meditation begins. It is the natural state of consciousness—one that is usually disrupted by routines, techniques, ideologies, and spellbinding (language).

Of course, humans change on their own. No one is actually "doing" anything; it's all the energy behind us. We just hold onto the idea that we are the ones performing the actions. Whether we are breathing, acting, making decisions, or giving important advice to others about what to do or not do, we always assume it’s the result of our free will. But if you accept that free will doesn't really exist as such, then you’ll realize that the same energy that inspires someone to grab a boat and head out fishing is the same energy that inspires someone to sit in meditation. If everything is naturally geared toward our growth because a divine energy is guiding us all toward liberation, and if free will isn't a thing, then there is no free will even for those who formally practice meditation. They are being guided. The others who don't practice are being guided differently. If you meditate naturally and spontaneously and possess clear insight, then you know that everything in the universe is always in perfect balance. Deciding whether to meditate or not is optional, but a sure sign of spiritual maturity is being grounded in an awareness that results in a steady mind—one that acts as a servant rather than the master of your inner space.

🙂

Look, let's just say you view this as an inevitable part of the process—something that simply has to happen—and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it that we really need to sit around and debate.

Quincy:

Being spontaneous—true spontaneity—means a person is naturally detached from the mind. It’s that effortless state where you aren't being constantly harassed or bullied by your own thoughts, emotions, or primal impulses. You aren't reacting to everything like a reflex; instead, you're actually grounded in your true self, acting out of pure awareness rather than just running on autopilot from some mental script. Honestly, seeing that kind of natural detachment is incredibly rare. I mean, personally, I don't know a single soul who was born with that kind of innate clarity.

We’re all born this way—pure and unfiltered—but then we get taught how to weaponize language, and honestly, everything just goes straight down the drain. 😁

Quincy:

Look, I’ve been practicing meditation since 1992—so I've put in my fair share of hours—and I actually know what we're talking about here. I know exactly what it feels like when you approach meditation with a specific goal in mind, trying to "fix" yourself, or when you're just riding a wave of motivation. I know the feeling of trying to calculate your way through a session, or that subtle, restless urge to transform into someone else, or some other version of yourself. I also know the darker side of the coin—when meditation stops being a peaceful retreat and starts feeling like a total grind. I’ve been there, sitting in the stillness, only to run headfirst into pure darkness—facing death, sheer horror, or those truly bizarre, unsettling phenomena that most people don't talk about. It's not all sunshine and rainbows.

Oh, come on now... since you brought it up—tell me, do you actually know what you’re dealing with when you start talking about the darkness, death, horror, and those truly bizarre phenomena?

Look, I’m not sitting here expecting some grand, mythological breakdown filled with demons and illusions—that's not really what I'm after. What I'm actually looking for is a way to wrap my head around those old mythological descriptions, maybe by blending them with a bit of my own personal insight.

I’m asking because, honestly, experience alone doesn't mean a damn thing if you don't actually have a functional understanding of what happened. To me, those kinds of experiences are a lot like getting a random phone call from an unknown number—they might be useful if you actually know who's calling and why, but without that context? It's just noise. Otherwise, you're basically just sitting there watching a movie projected onto your mind—one that's designed to either entertain you or scare the hell out of you. I hope you see where I'm coming from?

Quincy:

I truly understand what it means to "work on yourself"—and I also know the traps that come with it. There’s that dangerous tendency to put your life on hold, constantly deferring your actual existence to some hypothetical future version of yourself. You tell yourself you'll finally start living once you've sat through enough hours of meditation, repeated enough mantras, fasted enough, or checked off all those other spiritual boxes. It’s easy to fall into that loop of waiting to become someone "better." But at the same time, I get the pull of meditation. I know that bliss—not just a little bit of peace, but that overwhelming, almost unbearable, soaring bliss. I’ve experienced that boundless joy because I know how magnetic silence can be. And ultimately, I know what it feels like when meditation becomes spontaneous, just a natural part of being. Unfortunately, I also know exactly what it feels like to lose it. I know the lyrics, and I definitely know the tune.

In my opinion, chasing that raw physical sensation—that pure bliss—is honestly going way beyond the point. It’s just straight-up pleasure seeking at that stage. Now, I’m not saying it’s "wrong" or that it’s going to ruin your life, but let's be real: you’ll have plenty of "time" to indulge in that once you're dead. At the end of the day, an experience should really just be a tool for gaining insight. But people tend to get hung up on the labels; they hear a message, cling to it, and somehow convince themselves that the meaning lies within the message itself. That’s where they miss the mark. You need to grasp what the message is telling you, and then—once you've truly understood it—you need to hang up the phone.

Quincy:

But if you accept that free will as such doesn't exist...

I definitely don't accept that. Free will clearly exists, and I can argue that from at least three different angles. The best one might be this:

Free will is actually a negative description. It doesn't describe a specific "type of will," but rather just the "absence of inevitability." For someone who lacks any reactive capacity, everything is inevitable—but for someone who possesses reactive capacity, the degree of that "absence of inevitability" grows proportionally with their reactive possibilities.

If everything were purely inevitable, we wouldn't even have the physiological reactive capacity specifically adapted to where we live... that much is obvious.

On the other hand, if everything happened exclusively as a consequence of our "free will"—we’d be dead in no time. You don't actually know how your endocrine glands, your liver, or your immune system function. If you had to "trigger" any of those things using your own free will, you'd be in huge trouble.

So, it's clear that besides "willful" actions, we have "inevitabilities" and "automations." Other people's "automations" become our "inevitabilities," and vice versa. Everything that steps outside the framework of "automations" becomes the subject of "free will." To say that free will doesn't exist is to deny your own reactive mechanism—a mechanism whose very function is an essential part of the process of consciousness fragmentation and differentiation, which in turn creates the problem that is simultaneously the foundation of life itself.

This ultimately leads us to the conclusion that "free will" is actually a problem that constantly generates division and conflict, and those divisions and conflicts are the driving engine of existence and life as we know it. So... that’s one way of looking at it, and if you don't follow that one, I can certainly offer another—though that would probably depend on your answer to the question regarding "darkness and horror."

Quincy:

If everything in nature is directed toward our growth because divine energy guides us all toward liberation, if free will doesn't exist—then it doesn't exist for those who formally meditate either. They are being guided as well.

I don't agree with this either; it contradicts everything Krishnamurti said, not to mention common sense. Reactive capacity, simply by its existence, negates any possibility of being "guided by higher instances."

Everything that happens is a consequence of your own happening. In other words, nothing is "happening to you"—rather, you are the one happening to yourself. You might feel "guided," but the "flow" is what "guides" everything, and you are a vital part of that "flow." This flow has to follow certain norms, primarily moving along the path of least resistance... much like water flowing downhill. But within those inevitable norms, everything is temporary, subject to change and "free will." When we surrender to being "guided," we are actually always moving along that line of least resistance. If you get caught in a shipwreck or a sandstorm... that's the only sensible thing you can do. But where you can be part of the change and the happening, it is equally nonsensical to move along the line of least resistance... because the smallest possible resistance is death... and as I already emphasized... there will be plenty of "time" for that.

Quincy:

If you meditate naturally and spontaneously and if you have clarity of insight—then you know that in the universe, everything is always in perfect balance. Whether or not one meditates is optional, but a sure sign of spiritual maturity is being grounded in awareness, resulting in a steady mind that acts as a servant rather than a master of the internal space....

Projection can't possibly be a "sign of spiritual maturity"—in fact, that’s exactly what you’re doing right now. You're just projecting your own mental image of what "spiritual maturity" should look like—this idealized picture where someone stays perfectly composed and in control of everything. It’s from these exact kinds of mental constructs that humans have gone about creating a god "in their own image." Show me who is actually pulling your strings, and I'll show you how to break free from that "guidance."

Quincy:

Edward Flores4 As specified by: Only those individuals truly capable of it actually meditate. Anything that isn't spontaneous simply isn't meditation. It is only through spontaneity that one can be truly free from the constant "calculating" of the mind. Real meditation is nothing more than a direct, raw reactivity to pure perception. This scheduled, disciplined practice of "sitting down to meditate" isn't spontaneous at all... it's just another thing you plan, measure, and ultimately expect something from...

So spoken Shamantrix Shaman... 🙂

Shamantrix Shaman, you’ve provided such an incredibly thorough explanation to all of us here regarding your personal philosophy on meditation and what it truly represents to you... It was quite a deep dive. I noticed you brought Krishnamurti into the conversation as well, which isn't exactly surprising given his influence; there is something about his essays that allows almost anyone to find a piece of themselves within his words... though, of course, one must be careful to steer clear of any lingering dogmatism...
Don't you think that’s exactly where the beauty lies—in the absolute freedom to interpret a single concept, like meditation, on your own terms? It feels to me that you are just as right in your interpretation as I am in mine, when I choose to approach it through my own lens... For you, meditation is this spontaneous state of being, an unbroken flow that exists beyond measure, something that simply *is*... And yet, there is a subtle irony here; the way you present this concept to us is actually quite constrained, because it is bounded by your own specific definitions. By defining meditation as something inherently spontaneous, limitless, and immeasurable, you have effectively boxed it in with your own criteria. You've declared it to be those things, and thus, in your view, the conversation ends there. There is no further room for discussion... It seems as though you are directing these words of freedom only toward yourself, without truly listening to anyone else. Have you ever paused to ask yourself, who am I to dictate to another person what meditation actually IS? All you can truly offer is your own perspective on what meditation means to you...
You're right, and yet, you're not quite right either... Everything you’ve laid out is indeed meditation, but it isn't solely limited to just those things...
You know, I truly believe that meditation is both an entirely spontaneous occurrence and a measurable achievement—a deliberate pursuit of that elusive peace and profound silence...
I suppose I’m speaking purely from my own experience when I say this, but the idea of existing in a state of constant meditation, twenty-four hours a day... it sounds beautiful, truly, but isn't there something a bit illusory about expecting that from "ordinary" people like us? For me, after an exhausting, high-pressure day at the office, I sometimes manage to force myself into a moment of stillness—lighting a candle and just trying to let go through meditation. Some days, I actually succeed, and other days, I simply can't. There are moments when I don't even bother attempting it because my mind feels far too scattered and restless to settle down. But then, there are those rare, wonderful instances where I don't have to try at all; the calm just arrives on its own, spontaneously... and honestly, those are the most beautiful moments of all...
So, what now? Am I just supposed to sit around waiting for some perfect, idealized moment to arrive? I’ve finally managed to tailor my entire practice to fit who I am... and honestly, after a session of "targeted" meditation, I feel this profound sense of peace, a stillness in my mind that feels so deeply settled. Sometimes, it even feels more restorative than when I just dive into something spontaneous...
I suppose I don't really have anything particularly profound to add to the conversation here. I fully accept the idea that what resonates with me might not necessarily resonate with someone else... and the same applies in reverse...

wiredbear2 said:Quincy:

Edward Flores4 As specified by: Only those individuals truly capable of it actually meditate. Anything that isn't spontaneous simply isn't meditation. It is only through spontaneity that one can be truly free from the constant "calculating" of the mind. Real meditation is nothing more than a direct, raw reactivity to pure perception. This scheduled, disciplined practice of "sitting down to meditate" isn't spontaneous at all... it's just another thing you plan, measure, and ultimately expect something from...

So spoken Shamantrix Shaman... 🙂

Shamantrix Shaman, you’ve provided such an incredibly thorough explanation to all of us here regarding your personal philosophy on meditation and what it truly represents to you... It was quite a deep dive. I noticed you brought Krishnamurti into the conversation as well, which isn't exactly surprising given his influence; there is something about his essays that allows almost anyone to find a piece of themselves within his words... though, of course, one must be careful to steer clear of any lingering dogmatism...
Don't you think that’s exactly where the beauty lies—in the absolute freedom to interpret a single concept, like meditation, on your own terms? It feels to me that you are just as right in your interpretation as I am in mine, when I choose to approach it through my own lens... For you, meditation is this spontaneous state of being, an unbroken flow that exists beyond measure, something that simply *is*... And yet, there is a subtle irony here; the way you present this concept to us is actually quite constrained, because it is bounded by your own specific definitions. By defining meditation as something inherently spontaneous, limitless, and immeasurable, you have effectively boxed it in with your own criteria. You've declared it to be those things, and thus, in your view, the conversation ends there. There is no further room for discussion... It seems as though you are directing these words of freedom only toward yourself, without truly listening to anyone else. Have you ever paused to ask yourself, who am I to dictate to another person what meditation actually IS? All you can truly offer is your own perspective on what meditation means to you...
You're right, and yet, you're not quite right either... Everything you’ve laid out is indeed meditation, but it isn't solely limited to just those things...
You know, I truly believe that meditation is both an entirely spontaneous occurrence and a measurable achievement—a deliberate pursuit of that elusive peace and profound silence...
I suppose I’m speaking purely from my own experience when I say this, but the idea of existing in a state of constant meditation, twenty-four hours a day... it sounds beautiful, truly, but isn't there something a bit illusory about expecting that from "ordinary" people like us? For me, after an exhausting, high-pressure day at the office, I sometimes manage to force myself into a moment of stillness—lighting a candle and just trying to let go through meditation. Some days, I actually succeed, and other days, I simply can't. There are moments when I don't even bother attempting it because my mind feels far too scattered and restless to settle down. But then, there are those rare, wonderful instances where I don't have to try at all; the calm just arrives on its own, spontaneously... and honestly, those are the most beautiful moments of all...
So, what now? Am I just supposed to sit around waiting for some perfect, idealized moment to arrive? I’ve finally managed to tailor my entire practice to fit who I am... and honestly, after a session of "targeted" meditation, I feel this profound sense of peace, a stillness in my mind that feels so deeply settled. Sometimes, it even feels more restorative than when I just dive into something spontaneous...
I suppose I don't really have anything particularly profound to add to the conversation here. I fully accept the idea that what resonates with me might not necessarily resonate with someone else... and the same applies in reverse...

Everything I say—just like everything anyone else ever says—is nothing more than a personal representation and a glimpse through the lens of "the one speaking." No one is actually in a position to give you anything other than their own specific perspective on how things look. There isn't some ultimate authority out there that can tell you exactly how the color red is supposed to appear to you. For you, red is simply whatever it is that you perceive as red... and that’s that. Period.

I honestly don't see why you feel the need to constantly emphasize that this is "your vision"—it’s pretty much obvious from the jump, isn't it?

Quincy:

Don't you think that’s exactly where the beauty lies? The fact that you have the total freedom to interpret one thing—in this case, meditation—on your own terms. It’s like we can both be absolutely right at the same time, just because I'm looking at it through my lens while you're viewing it through yours.

Honestly? I don't see the beauty in it, but I don't see a problem either. I'm totally on board with the idea that if someone feels like they need to go see a psychiatrist, then they really should—it’s probably worth having someone give their headspace a professional "tune-up." In other words, if you feel like you need something, you need it. If you feel like you don't, then you don't. It’s as simple as that.

Quincy:

Look, I get it—to you, meditation is this spontaneous state of being, something that just flows constantly without any way to measure it... But the way you're presenting it to us here feels a bit limited—it's ultimately bounded by your own personal perspective and how you choose to quantify it.

If we actually knew one another—like, truly, deeply knew each other—then my words would have some kind of measurable weight when held up against who I really am. But since we’re essentially strangers, my words aren't really "me" to you; instead, they just act as raw material for your own mind to build a mental picture. And that picture—whatever version of me you’ve constructed in your head—is really just a projection of your own psyche. In a way, you’re actually measuring my words against your own internal compass, because you're the one who shaped that image based on what I said. I know, it sounds a bit deep and maybe even a little complicated... but I think if you sit with it for a second, you'll catch my drift.

I just want to be clear about my position here—I’m only ever sharing what I personally perceive, which is really the only thing I’m capable of talking about. The actual process of measuring or comparing those ideas? That happens entirely within you, the reader. In my view, what you choose to measure and the final result you get from that measurement are two completely different, disconnected things. It’s like that old saying: the map is not the territory. 🙂

Quincy:

Have you ever stopped to wonder who I actually am to be telling anyone else what meditation IS? At the end of the day, all I can really offer is my own perspective—just my own take on what the whole thing means to me.

Of course I am. Honestly, I’ve come to realize that the whole point of these forums is the actual exchange of ideas—where we seek out those different perspectives that can actually stretch our own horizons. If someone comes here just looking for an echo chamber where everyone agrees with them, they’re going to end up incredibly frustrated. That kind of "yes-man" environment—that constant seeking of like-minded validation—is exactly what you find in religious institutions, political parties, cults, or sects. That's not why we're here.

Look, I’m not claiming to be some kind of untouchable authority figure here—I’m just the author of my own thoughts. That’s really all there is to it. To me, writing "with authority" doesn't mean I'm claiming to have the absolute truth, or that I can't be dead wrong sometimes. It just means I actually stand behind everything I put on the page. When I say that, I mean I’ve done the work to ensure that every single sentence, every specific word, and every concept I bring up can be broken down and explained through dozens of different metaphors, analogies, perspectives, or real-world examples. If we get into a debate, I should be able to define exactly what I mean by any term I use. I won't hide behind vague excuses like "it's ineffable," "it's a state of no-mind," or some other spiritual way of saying "I've surrendered my reason to a higher power." I believe in being clear, not hiding behind mystery.

So, I’m not really trying to lecture you all here—not by a long shot. What I’m actually looking for is some solid, high-quality counterarguments. See, there's this funny little paradox where every time we expand our "scope of understanding," we simultaneously push out the boundaries of what we don't understand even further. It's like chasing a horizon line—the more you move toward it, the more space opens up ahead of you. Since the "unknown" is essentially defined by its own mystery, I find myself relying on others to act as "agents" who can help facilitate an encounter with that unknown. In my view, that's really the only mechanism we have for pushing the needle of understanding any further.

Believe it or not, I’m really just here to run into something completely unexpected—to stumble upon ideas I haven't even considered yet. In the meantime, I figure I'll spend my time stress-testing everything I think I know by engaging with people who don't see eye to eye with me. Don't get me wrong, chatting with people who agree with everything I say is easy, but it doesn't actually move the needle or lead to anything constructive. It's just an echo chamber. I think that pretty much sums me up.

Quincy:

I mean, I’m just being honest when I say this—it sounds absolutely beautiful, right? The idea of living in a constant state of meditation, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. But let's be real for a second—isn't it a bit of an illusion to expect that from "regular" people like us?

Nobody is actually "ordinary"... everyone is inherently unique. The thing is, you only tend to notice the unusual because it stands out against the backdrop of what we consider normal. It’s like how you only really register a massive mountain or a jagged peak because it breaks up the flat, endless stretch of a plain between two hills. But hey, let's look closer at that...

If I actually walked around thinking I was some special snowflake or fundamentally different from "regular folks," I wouldn't be bothering to share my perspective with anyone at all. Honestly, I see myself as just as much an "average Joe" as anybody else—which, if you think about it, makes us all pretty much the same kind of unconventional. No one is born with a golden ticket or marked as "chosen." Everything I’ve managed to figure out or achieve is stuff that anyone else could do if they put in the work. I don't have some secret, unfair advantage that would somehow justify treating "you regular people" differently or suggest that there's some level of insight that's just off-limits to everyone else.

Quincy:

So, after a day that’s just absolutely draining, I sometimes manage to force myself to slow down—you know, light a candle, settle in, and try to find some peace through meditation. Some days it works beautifully, and other times? Not so much. There are even those nights where I don't even bother trying because my brain is just too scattered and restless to sit still. But then there are those rare, perfect moments where I don't have to push at all; it just happens spontaneously. Honestly, those are the best moments of all.

That’s totally fine—really, there’s nothing wrong with that approach. Honestly, I’d much rather someone try to lower their stress levels through meditation than not bother at all. It's better than nothing, right? But at the same time, I can't help but feel like it's a bit of a missed opportunity if you aren't practicing that mindfulness while you're actually at work. If you could catch the stress before it even takes root during the workday, you'd be heading home feeling completely unburdened. You wouldn't just be "managing" the pressure—you'd be avoiding the buildup entirely. That way, you could actually show up for your life at home and give your full attention to whatever matters most, instead of being stuck constantly relying on how well a specific "stress reduction" technique worked for you later in the evening.

I’m telling you this from my own personal experience—and trust me, I work in one of the most high-pressure industries out there today. Believe me when I say that very little compares to the sheer stress of being forced to produce something "creative" on an impossibly tight deadline. Having to whip up a design by "tomorrow morning" and then being held responsible for how it actually performs in the market? That is a genuine pain in the ass.

Quincy:

So, what now? Am I supposed to just sit around waiting for some perfect, "ideal" moment to strike? Honestly, I’ve just started tailoring my practice to fit my own life—making things work for me rather than fighting against them. And you know what? After doing some "targeted" meditation, I actually feel this deep sense of peace; my mind is just... quiet. Sometimes it even feels more profound than when I just dive into it spontaneously. I don't really have any grand, profound wisdom to drop on anyone here. I've just come to accept that what works for me might not work for someone else at all—and that’s perfectly okay. It goes both ways, really.

Well, nothing much to say there... 🙂

Look, I’m not coming out here saying anyone needs to drop their habits, overhaul their lifestyle, or make excuses because of what I have to say. I’m just offering a different perspective—strictly my own personal take. I’m not out here peddling an ideology, a specific technique, or some rigid belief system... I don't see myself as someone who is "fixing" anyone, nor do I believe people actually *need* fixing.

If someone happens to stumble upon something interesting in my words—maybe they tuck a little thought away just as a "curiosity" or a "possibility"—well, then if I happen to be right, that person will likely find those ideas resurfacing at just the right moment. It'll hit them when those ideas offer a cleaner, simpler way to make sense of their own "life drama" than whatever old interpretations they were clinging to before.

On the flip side, if I’ve just rambled on through a heap of nonsense, that nonsense won't offer any better explanations for anything. In that case, and quite rightfully so, nobody will even bother remembering the junk I wrote about two months down the road. That’s just how I see things. 🙂

In my experience, people react to my views in all sorts of ways; some are just genuinely curious, while others can get pretty prickly. Usually, that tension kicks in when people sense there might be some truth to what I'm saying. It’s like if you tried to convince someone that the Earth is shaped like a pyramid—which is obviously absurd—they’d probably just laugh it off. They wouldn't feel the need to push back with a question like:

Quincy:

Have you ever stopped to wonder who I am to be lecturing anyone else?

Typically, the folks reacting to my thoughts fall into two camps: those who are already doubting the very same things I am, or those who are terrified of the possibility that I might actually be right. The latter group tends to resort to belittling or provocation, and honestly, I always enjoy giving them a taste of their own medicine—sometimes even a bit more.

But at the end of the day, I walk away having learned something from both groups. Whether they decide to learn something themselves is entirely up to them. I'm not here to be anyone's teacher... I'm primarily here to learn something for myself.

..Respect goes to those who actually try to share their meditation experiences constructively while staying open to new insights.. everything else is just petty bickering and a complete waste of time... then you have those people who claim to have something to contribute, but they’re really just throwing words around at someone who isn't currently "open to similar realizations"... It’s a good thing that many people lurking in the background read this; they pull actual insights from these posts, even if they don't jump into the fray... otherwise, the whole thing would be an exercise in total futility... honestly, some people could really use a lesson in humility if they want to grasp the sheer brilliance being written here..

Edward Flores4 said:Look, let's just say you view this as an inevitable part of the process—something that simply has to happen—and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it that we really need to sit around and debate.

Quincy:

Being spontaneous—true spontaneity—means a person is naturally detached from the mind. It’s that effortless state where you aren't being constantly harassed or bullied by your own thoughts, emotions, or primal impulses. You aren't reacting to everything like a reflex; instead, you're actually grounded in your true self, acting out of pure awareness rather than just running on autopilot from some mental script. Honestly, seeing that kind of natural detachment is incredibly rare. I mean, personally, I don't know a single soul who was born with that kind of innate clarity.

We’re all born this way—pure and unfiltered—but then we get taught how to weaponize language, and honestly, everything just goes straight down the drain. 😁

Quincy:

Look, I’ve been practicing meditation since 1992—so I've put in my fair share of hours—and I actually know what we're talking about here. I know exactly what it feels like when you approach meditation with a specific goal in mind, trying to "fix" yourself, or when you're just riding a wave of motivation. I know the feeling of trying to calculate your way through a session, or that subtle, restless urge to transform into someone else, or some other version of yourself. I also know the darker side of the coin—when meditation stops being a peaceful retreat and starts feeling like a total grind. I’ve been there, sitting in the stillness, only to run headfirst into pure darkness—facing death, sheer horror, or those truly bizarre, unsettling phenomena that most people don't talk about. It's not all sunshine and rainbows.

Oh, come on now... since you brought it up—tell me, do you actually know what you’re dealing with when you start talking about the darkness, death, horror, and those truly bizarre phenomena?

Look, I’m not sitting here expecting some grand, mythological breakdown filled with demons and illusions—that's not really what I'm after. What I'm actually looking for is a way to wrap my head around those old mythological descriptions, maybe by blending them with a bit of my own personal insight.

I’m asking because, honestly, experience alone doesn't mean a damn thing if you don't actually have a functional understanding of what happened. To me, those kinds of experiences are a lot like getting a random phone call from an unknown number—they might be useful if you actually know who's calling and why, but without that context? It's just noise. Otherwise, you're basically just sitting there watching a movie projected onto your mind—one that's designed to either entertain you or scare the hell out of you. I hope you see where I'm coming from?

Quincy:

I truly understand what it means to "work on yourself"—and I also know the traps that come with it. There’s that dangerous tendency to put your life on hold, constantly deferring your actual existence to some hypothetical future version of yourself. You tell yourself you'll finally start living once you've sat through enough hours of meditation, repeated enough mantras, fasted enough, or checked off all those other spiritual boxes. It’s easy to fall into that loop of waiting to become someone "better." But at the same time, I get the pull of meditation. I know that bliss—not just a little bit of peace, but that overwhelming, almost unbearable, soaring bliss. I’ve experienced that boundless joy because I know how magnetic silence can be. And ultimately, I know what it feels like when meditation becomes spontaneous, just a natural part of being. Unfortunately, I also know exactly what it feels like to lose it. I know the lyrics, and I definitely know the tune.

In my opinion, chasing that raw physical sensation—that pure bliss—is honestly going way beyond the point. It’s just straight-up pleasure seeking at that stage. Now, I’m not saying it’s "wrong" or that it’s going to ruin your life, but let's be real: you’ll have plenty of "time" to indulge in that once you're dead. At the end of the day, an experience should really just be a tool for gaining insight. But people tend to get hung up on the labels; they hear a message, cling to it, and somehow convince themselves that the meaning lies within the message itself. That’s where they miss the mark. You need to grasp what the message is telling you, and then—once you've truly understood it—you need to hang up the phone.

Quincy:

But if you accept that free will as such doesn't exist...

I definitely don't accept that. Free will clearly exists, and I can argue that from at least three different angles. The best one might be this:

Free will is actually a negative description. It doesn't describe a specific "type of will," but rather just the "absence of inevitability." For someone who lacks any reactive capacity, everything is inevitable—but for someone who possesses reactive capacity, the degree of that "absence of inevitability" grows proportionally with their reactive possibilities.

If everything were purely inevitable, we wouldn't even have the physiological reactive capacity specifically adapted to where we live... that much is obvious.

On the other hand, if everything happened exclusively as a consequence of our "free will"—we’d be dead in no time. You don't actually know how your endocrine glands, your liver, or your immune system function. If you had to "trigger" any of those things using your own free will, you'd be in huge trouble.

So, it's clear that besides "willful" actions, we have "inevitabilities" and "automations." Other people's "automations" become our "inevitabilities," and vice versa. Everything that steps outside the framework of "automations" becomes the subject of "free will." To say that free will doesn't exist is to deny your own reactive mechanism—a mechanism whose very function is an essential part of the process of consciousness fragmentation and differentiation, which in turn creates the problem that is simultaneously the foundation of life itself.

This ultimately leads us to the conclusion that "free will" is actually a problem that constantly generates division and conflict, and those divisions and conflicts are the driving engine of existence and life as we know it. So... that’s one way of looking at it, and if you don't follow that one, I can certainly offer another—though that would probably depend on your answer to the question regarding "darkness and horror."

Quincy:

If everything in nature is directed toward our growth because divine energy guides us all toward liberation, if free will doesn't exist—then it doesn't exist for those who formally meditate either. They are being guided as well.

I don't agree with this either; it contradicts everything Krishnamurti said, not to mention common sense. Reactive capacity, simply by its existence, negates any possibility of being "guided by higher instances."

Everything that happens is a consequence of your own happening. In other words, nothing is "happening to you"—rather, you are the one happening to yourself. You might feel "guided," but the "flow" is what "guides" everything, and you are a vital part of that "flow." This flow has to follow certain norms, primarily moving along the path of least resistance... much like water flowing downhill. But within those inevitable norms, everything is temporary, subject to change and "free will." When we surrender to being "guided," we are actually always moving along that line of least resistance. If you get caught in a shipwreck or a sandstorm... that's the only sensible thing you can do. But where you can be part of the change and the happening, it is equally nonsensical to move along the line of least resistance... because the smallest possible resistance is death... and as I already emphasized... there will be plenty of "time" for that.

Quincy:

If you meditate naturally and spontaneously and if you have clarity of insight—then you know that in the universe, everything is always in perfect balance. Whether or not one meditates is optional, but a sure sign of spiritual maturity is being grounded in awareness, resulting in a steady mind that acts as a servant rather than a master of the internal space....

Projection can't possibly be a "sign of spiritual maturity"—in fact, that’s exactly what you’re doing right now. You're just projecting your own mental image of what "spiritual maturity" should look like—this idealized picture where someone stays perfectly composed and in control of everything. It’s from these exact kinds of mental constructs that humans have gone about creating a god "in their own image." Show me who is actually pulling your strings, and I'll show you how to break free from that "guidance."

I'm with you on that...

Quincy:

Oh, come on now... since you brought it up... tell me, what exactly did you run into when you talk about all that darkness, death, horror, and those bizarre phenomena?

It’s actually quite scary when you think about it—that deep, primal instinctual fear. It really is the root of everything; all our aggression and every other fear we experience basically stems from that one core source. Fear of death.It’s really about that transition—breaking away from all those conceptual, intellectual, and deeply personal ideas to move toward a higher kind of silence that serves as the source of everything. This shift actually threatens every single one of our starting points. It tears down the entire structure we’ve built out of ego, thought patterns, interpretations, and beliefs—basically everything we constructed as children once we were taught language and given an identity through our upbringing. Eventually, everyone has to face this fear. Honestly, it’s just part of the mind's strategy to keep us trapped within familiar boundaries, preventing us from taking that leap into the non-conceptual. It’s a leap toward surrendering the individual self and finally breaking free from the grip of the ego's structure.

Quincy:

In my opinion, chasing that raw physical sensation—that pure bliss—is going a bit overboard. It feels like you're just pleasure-seeking at that point. I’m not saying it’s "wrong" or inherently damaging, but honestly, you'll have all the time in the world to indulge in that once you're dead. At the end of the day, an experience should just be a tool to gain insight. People tend to label things, listen to the message, and then mistakenly believe the meaning lies within the message itself. You need to understand the message, sure, but then you really need to hang up the phone.

Look, Shamantrix Shaman, I wasn't out there chasing bliss; it just sort of found me. Bliss is more of a byproduct than something you can set as a goal or a motive. I could certainly point you toward some pre-packaged answers from those enlightened masters about where bliss comes from, but in my experience, once you actually dive into the silence, that's when it greets you.

Quincy:

I’ve been thinking about free will lately, and honestly, I think it’s actually a negative description. It doesn't really describe a specific "type" of will; instead, it just points to an absence of inevitability. If you lack any capacity for reaction, then everything is essentially inevitable for you. But as your ability to react grows, so does your degree of what we call "freedom"—which is really just the increasing absence of necessity.

I see things a little differently. To me, the human condition is a paradox—we are essentially living out a duality, a constant split between being the wave and being the ocean all at once. Think about it: millions of biological processes are happening inside our bodies right now, running seamlessly, automatically, and in perfect sync without us ever having to lift a finger. From the perspective of the "ocean," everything is predetermined. But from the perspective of the "wave"—our individual selves—we are constantly making decisions, analyzing, choosing, and deciding which direction to head. I don't think free will is some kind of illusion. Instead, I feel that the will we experience within ourselves is actually the will of the divine. In the same way, the love we feel deep down is simply the love of the divine flowing through us.

Everything that unfolds is simply a consequence of your own unfolding. In other words, things aren't just happening *to* you; rather, you are the one happening to yourself. You might feel like you're being "guided," but it's really the "flow" that directs everything, and you are an essential part of that movement. This flow tends to follow certain patterns, primarily moving along the path of least resistance... much like water finding its way down a hill. Yet, within those inevitable patterns, everything is temporary, subject to change and "free will." When we surrender to being "guided," we are actually just following that path of least resistance. If you find yourself caught in a shipwreck or a sudden storm... doing so is the only sensible thing you can do. But there are moments where being part of the change and the unfolding is just as vital as following the easiest route... because the absolute minimum resistance is death... and as I've already pointed out... there will be plenty of "time" for that later.

I agree with you that "everything that unfolds is a consequence of my own unfolding" and that "the flow is what guides everything," but my take is slightly different. When we find our divine source—that center, that stillness—either through meditation or some stroke of crazy luck, we rest in that center without moving, simply existing. From that "position" (sorry, that’s a clumsy word choice, but I hope you get what I mean), a massive energy begins to move on the periphery, right where we exist as a wave rather than the entire ocean. That energy then manifests in life as love, compassion, or creativity… it can take many forms depending on whether it's directed toward the head or the heart. But first, you have to find the SOURCE, and once you do, it becomes the direct guidance for the wave.

This guidance happens spontaneously and unconsciously. When that center hasn't been found yet, it refers to that one magnetic force (which I believe all "spiritual seekers" recognize) that pulls us inward, clears a path before us, and leads us deeper and deeper until we are completely consumed. In that way, we are guided by the flow while simultaneously being both the flow and our own guide.

Projection can never be a "sign of spiritual maturity," and that is exactly what you are offering. You are projecting your own mental image of "spiritual maturity" where someone maintains composed mastery over something. It is precisely from these types of images that humans created God "in their own image." Show me who is guiding you, and I will set you free from that "guidance."

No, I didn't say that someone masters something; I said that the mind becomes a servant rather than the master of the inner space. Within that inner space, there is NO ONE there to be a master. The flow takes care of itself... So, in a paradoxical sense—there is no one to be guided, and in that sense, no such thing as guidance exists. That concept only exists if we speak like two separate waves... There you go, 🙂—the closer we get to the center, the more we drift into paradox and illogic...

Jeremy Palmer said:I'm with you on that...

Quincy:

Oh, come on now... since you brought it up... tell me, what exactly did you run into when you talk about all that darkness, death, horror, and those bizarre phenomena?

It’s actually quite scary when you think about it—that deep, primal instinctual fear. It really is the root of everything; all our aggression and every other fear we experience basically stems from that one core source. Fear of death.It’s really about that transition—breaking away from all those conceptual, intellectual, and deeply personal ideas to move toward a higher kind of silence that serves as the source of everything. This shift actually threatens every single one of our starting points. It tears down the entire structure we’ve built out of ego, thought patterns, interpretations, and beliefs—basically everything we constructed as children once we were taught language and given an identity through our upbringing. Eventually, everyone has to face this fear. Honestly, it’s just part of the mind's strategy to keep us trapped within familiar boundaries, preventing us from taking that leap into the non-conceptual. It’s a leap toward surrendering the individual self and finally breaking free from the grip of the ego's structure.

Quincy:

In my opinion, chasing that raw physical sensation—that pure bliss—is going a bit overboard. It feels like you're just pleasure-seeking at that point. I’m not saying it’s "wrong" or inherently damaging, but honestly, you'll have all the time in the world to indulge in that once you're dead. At the end of the day, an experience should just be a tool to gain insight. People tend to label things, listen to the message, and then mistakenly believe the meaning lies within the message itself. You need to understand the message, sure, but then you really need to hang up the phone.

Look, Shamantrix Shaman, I wasn't out there chasing bliss; it just sort of found me. Bliss is more of a byproduct than something you can set as a goal or a motive. I could certainly point you toward some pre-packaged answers from those enlightened masters about where bliss comes from, but in my experience, once you actually dive into the silence, that's when it greets you.

Quincy:

I’ve been thinking about free will lately, and honestly, I think it’s actually a negative description. It doesn't really describe a specific "type" of will; instead, it just points to an absence of inevitability. If you lack any capacity for reaction, then everything is essentially inevitable for you. But as your ability to react grows, so does your degree of what we call "freedom"—which is really just the increasing absence of necessity.

I see things a little differently. To me, the human condition is a paradox—we are essentially living out a duality, a constant split between being the wave and being the ocean all at once. Think about it: millions of biological processes are happening inside our bodies right now, running seamlessly, automatically, and in perfect sync without us ever having to lift a finger. From the perspective of the "ocean," everything is predetermined. But from the perspective of the "wave"—our individual selves—we are constantly making decisions, analyzing, choosing, and deciding which direction to head. I don't think free will is some kind of illusion. Instead, I feel that the will we experience within ourselves is actually the will of the divine. In the same way, the love we feel deep down is simply the love of the divine flowing through us.

Everything that unfolds is simply a consequence of your own unfolding. In other words, things aren't just happening *to* you; rather, you are the one happening to yourself. You might feel like you're being "guided," but it's really the "flow" that directs everything, and you are an essential part of that movement. This flow tends to follow certain patterns, primarily moving along the path of least resistance... much like water finding its way down a hill. Yet, within those inevitable patterns, everything is temporary, subject to change and "free will." When we surrender to being "guided," we are actually just following that path of least resistance. If you find yourself caught in a shipwreck or a sudden storm... doing so is the only sensible thing you can do. But there are moments where being part of the change and the unfolding is just as vital as following the easiest route... because the absolute minimum resistance is death... and as I've already pointed out... there will be plenty of "time" for that later.

I agree with you that "everything that unfolds is a consequence of my own unfolding" and that "the flow is what guides everything," but my take is slightly different. When we find our divine source—that center, that stillness—either through meditation or some stroke of crazy luck, we rest in that center without moving, simply existing. From that "position" (sorry, that’s a clumsy word choice, but I hope you get what I mean), a massive energy begins to move on the periphery, right where we exist as a wave rather than the entire ocean. That energy then manifests in life as love, compassion, or creativity… it can take many forms depending on whether it's directed toward the head or the heart. But first, you have to find the SOURCE, and once you do, it becomes the direct guidance for the wave.

This guidance happens spontaneously and unconsciously. When that center hasn't been found yet, it refers to that one magnetic force (which I believe all "spiritual seekers" recognize) that pulls us inward, clears a path before us, and leads us deeper and deeper until we are completely consumed. In that way, we are guided by the flow while simultaneously being both the flow and our own guide.

Projection can never be a "sign of spiritual maturity," and that is exactly what you are offering. You are projecting your own mental image of "spiritual maturity" where someone maintains composed mastery over something. It is precisely from these types of images that humans created God "in their own image." Show me who is guiding you, and I will set you free from that "guidance."

No, I didn't say that someone masters something; I said that the mind becomes a servant rather than the master of the inner space. Within that inner space, there is NO ONE there to be a master. The flow takes care of itself... So, in a paradoxical sense—there is no one to be guided, and in that sense, no such thing as guidance exists. That concept only exists if we speak like two separate waves... There you go, 🙂—the closer we get to the center, the more we drift into paradox and illogic...

Alright, let's go with that. We can absolutely take this as our solid baseline—a point where there’s no longer any room for debate because we’re all on the same page. Honestly, once you truly wrap your head around what language actually *is*—even if you're just looking at it from a broad, conceptual standpoint—it feels like you've cracked one of those massive, fundamental life puzzles. It’s one of those "aha!" moments that changes how you see everything else.

Quincy:

It’s honestly pretty terrifying when you really sit down and think about it—this deep, primal instinct that sits right at the core of us. It’s like this underlying current of fear that everything else just bubbles up from. You know how all that aggression we see in the world works? Or all those smaller, more frantic anxieties people carry around? They aren't separate things, really. They're all just symptoms of that one foundational, instinctive dread. It’s the root cause of it all. I’ve been sitting here thinking about that heavy, quiet weight we all carry sometimes—that deep-seated fear of death. It’s one of those things you don't really talk about over coffee or at a backyard BBQ, but it’s always there, isn't it? Just hovering in the background of our lives like a low hum you eventually stop noticing until the room goes silent. It’s funny, though—we spend so much of our energy trying to outrun it. We buy insurance, we obsess over wellness trends, we try to build these massive legacies through our work or our families, almost as if we're trying to leave a footprint deep enough that the tide can't wash it away. It’s like trying to build a sandcastle during high tide; no matter how intricate the towers are, the ocean always wins in the end. But I wonder if that fear is actually a compass. If we weren't afraid of the finish line, would we even bother running the race? Maybe that anxiety is just life's way of reminding us that the clock is ticking—not to scare us, but to nudge us. It’s like when you realize you only have an hour left before a flight departs; suddenly, you aren't scrolling aimlessly anymore. You move. You focus. You prioritize. There’s a certain kind of peace that comes from accepting the inevitable, though. Not a "giving up" kind of peace, but more like the feeling of finally putting down a heavy suitcase after a long day of traveling. Once you stop fighting the fact that everything is temporary, you start looking at the present moment with a bit more clarity. You realize that the beauty of a sunset isn't diminished because it fades—it's actually made more precious by the fact that it won't last forever. I don't have all the answers, obviously. None of us do. But I think leaning into the discomfort, rather than constantly looking for a distraction, might be the only way to actually live. It's about finding a balance between honoring the fragility of life and refusing to let that fragility paralyze us..

Just like bliss is nothing more than an aftereffect—a byproduct of something else—fear of death is also just a consequence of something deeper. And let’s be honest, that "something" can't actually be death itself, because you're still here, breathing and very much alive. It has to be your own projection, isn't it? It's the mental concept you've built around the idea of dying. Think about it this way: by its very definition, anything unknown is... well, unknown. Death is a total blank slate to us, just as life is an absolute mystery to those who have passed on. We are both so fundamentally unknowable to one another that the living and the dead exist in two completely different worlds—they never truly meet. 🙂

In other words... you didn't actually answer the question about what you encountered—you just described the fallout from that encounter, which showed up as this overwhelming "fear of death."

We’re really talking about that shift from clinging to our intellectual concepts—all those little mental labels we hold onto—toward a kind of transcendent silence that actually serves as the foundation for everything else. It’s a massive move, honestly. This transition threatens every single starting point we rely on; it shakes the entire structure we've spent our lives building out of ego, intellect, interpretations, and beliefs. It’s basically dismantling everything we were taught as kids once we learned how to use language and were handed a pre-packaged explanation of who we are supposed to be. The thing is, you eventually have to face this fear head-on. It’s almost like a built-in defense mechanism—a strategy the mind uses to keep us locked within these familiar boundaries. It wants to keep us safe in what we already know, rather than letting us take that leap toward the non-conceptual. It's an invitation to step away from the noise, surrender the idea of "individuality," and finally break those ties with the ego-driven structure we've been living in.

Look, this is just my humble take on things—but I honestly think you might have misread what’s actually happening during those moments you describe as "bliss" or that "fear of death." Because of that, you've landed on some very specific conclusions that seem perfectly logical and intuitive on the surface... but only if you overlook what you're truly confronting when you're right in the middle of those experiences.

At the end of the day, I’ve come to realize that the ego is really just an absolute abstraction—a mental construct that doesn't actually hold any inherent power over you. It only exerts control insofar as you choose to believe it’s some sort of tangible, permanent entity that can force your hand. It’s a bit like believing in a ghost in a house; if you’re convinced there's something lurking in the hallway, you'll jump at every creak in the floorboards—but the fear isn't coming from the ghost, it's coming from your own conviction. Once you see that, it becomes clear: when you believe the ego has authority, it does. Your own belief acts as the lever that triggers this whole cycle of self-imposed pressure.

So, the question still stands: what kind of situations have you actually run into—the ones that left you with everything from a decent little story to those much more awkward encounters, or even the downright unpleasant ones?

I’ve always felt that the real answer boils down to self-awareness—that deep, internal kind of knowing that we all pretty much agree is the absolute prerequisite for meditation to actually work. If you don't have that foundation, meditation just ends up being this sporadic, occasional thing you do when you feel like it, rather than what it's truly meant to be: a seamless, integrated way of living your life every single day.

Techniques and methods are really just crutches for people who haven't quite grasped the core of things yet. I’ve always felt that true meditation isn't some rigid set of instructions or a specific method you follow—it’s actually rooted in deep perception and genuine understanding. When you get to that point, everything else just flows naturally. Your actions become spontaneous, almost effortless, because you aren't "meditating" anymore; you're just living from a place of clarity. It’s like being fully illuminated by your own inner light, having a perception that’s as clear and unobstructed as a polished mirror. Think about it this way: when a kind, thoughtful person looks into a mirror, they see that same pleasant individual looking back at them from the other side. But when someone who’s acting foolishly looks into that same mirror? Well, all they ever see is a fool staring back from the other side, too.

Look, I don't want this to come off the wrong way—I really don't—but I’m going to hold off on commenting on the rest of your post until you get a chance to weigh in on one specific question. To me, it feels like an absolutely vital piece of the puzzle if we're actually going to wrap our heads around what's happening here. Honestly, I'm pretty convinced that this "little detail" is the exact thing you might have overlooked, and it's likely the very reason why everyone seems to be seeing things so differently right now.

amberbadger8 said:..Respect goes to those who actually try to share their meditation experiences constructively while staying open to new insights.. everything else is just petty bickering and a complete waste of time... then you have those people who claim to have something to contribute, but they’re really just throwing words around at someone who isn't currently "open to similar realizations"... It’s a good thing that many people lurking in the background read this; they pull actual insights from these posts, even if they don't jump into the fray... otherwise, the whole thing would be an exercise in total futility... honestly, some people could really use a lesson in humility if they want to grasp the sheer brilliance being written here..

Well, if they truly needed it, they probably wouldn't be the type of people to have it in the first place—and that’s kind of the beauty of humility. It isn't something forced upon anyone; we can all live without it if we choose... but on the flip side, it’s a tool that serves anyone willing to embrace it. And embracing something is, by definition, a choice—something we can do, but aren't obligated to do.

What I’m trying to get at is that humility forced by authority or social pressure isn't actually humility at all—it's just submission. Real humility is always, exclusively, a result of one's own free will and personal choice. It's not something you "catch" on a crowded subway like a common cold.

Anyone who understands this also tends to see the next part of the puzzle. Humility isn't just for those who explicitly refuse to be humble—which is usually the crowd whose main interest is keeping others submissive. These are the folks who mistake their own lack of humility for simply being "subordinate" to someone else.

No matter how much they hide behind clever wordplay, fake motives, or the shield of political correctness, it's pretty obvious they still don't get it: true "control" only exists when there is nothing left to control. These types feel this desperate need to manage everything—starting with their own lives and then moving on to policing everyone else's opinions. Every sentence they utter feels like a calculated attempt to pose as "the one who holds the truth." They rarely care about whether what they're saying is actually productive; instead, they're constantly preoccupied with maintaining a facade that masks their own personal ambitions and shortcomings.

But then again... those who have embraced humility actually end up depending on the ones who refuse to. In a strange way, the non-humble are an essential part of the humble's existence—otherwise, everything would just be the same, or rather, everything would feel completely meaningless. Paradoxically, the arrogant are a built-in component of the humble lifestyle, except for the fact that they aren't even aware of it, so they spend all their energy trying to prove how important they are to everyone else. The tragedy is that they are essentially victims of their own judgment and their refusal to accept who they really are. And the even bigger tragedy? A world without them would be a genuine, profound tragedy. This is where true empathy is actually "born"—true & unconditional compassion that arises from actual understanding, rather than being some hollow ideological concept taught to us by some guru, a Buddha, or whoever else.

Anyway. Thanks for such an interesting comment—it really inspired me to dig a little deeper into the concept of humility, which is clearly another indispensable ingredient for living a quality, meditative life.

Edward Flores4 said:Well, if they truly needed it, they probably wouldn't be the type of people to have it in the first place—and that’s kind of the beauty of humility. It isn't something forced upon anyone; we can all live without it if we choose... but on the flip side, it’s a tool that serves anyone willing to embrace it. And embracing something is, by definition, a choice—something we can do, but aren't obligated to do.

What I’m trying to get at is that humility forced by authority or social pressure isn't actually humility at all—it's just submission. Real humility is always, exclusively, a result of one's own free will and personal choice. It's not something you "catch" on a crowded subway like a common cold.

Anyone who understands this also tends to see the next part of the puzzle. Humility isn't just for those who explicitly refuse to be humble—which is usually the crowd whose main interest is keeping others submissive. These are the folks who mistake their own lack of humility for simply being "subordinate" to someone else.

No matter how much they hide behind clever wordplay, fake motives, or the shield of political correctness, it's pretty obvious they still don't get it: true "control" only exists when there is nothing left to control. These types feel this desperate need to manage everything—starting with their own lives and then moving on to policing everyone else's opinions. Every sentence they utter feels like a calculated attempt to pose as "the one who holds the truth." They rarely care about whether what they're saying is actually productive; instead, they're constantly preoccupied with maintaining a facade that masks their own personal ambitions and shortcomings.

But then again... those who have embraced humility actually end up depending on the ones who refuse to. In a strange way, the non-humble are an essential part of the humble's existence—otherwise, everything would just be the same, or rather, everything would feel completely meaningless. Paradoxically, the arrogant are a built-in component of the humble lifestyle, except for the fact that they aren't even aware of it, so they spend all their energy trying to prove how important they are to everyone else. The tragedy is that they are essentially victims of their own judgment and their refusal to accept who they really are. And the even bigger tragedy? A world without them would be a genuine, profound tragedy. This is where true empathy is actually "born"—true & unconditional compassion that arises from actual understanding, rather than being some hollow ideological concept taught to us by some guru, a Buddha, or whoever else.

Anyway. Thanks for such an interesting comment—it really inspired me to dig a little deeper into the concept of humility, which is clearly another indispensable ingredient for living a quality, meditative life.

A sharp observation. Love and compassion are outcomes of understanding, not the starting line as many people suggest. I've always found this specific cognitive direction fascinating; when perspectives are diametrically opposed, discussions usually fall apart and the interlocutor ends up blocked.🙂