Stare Master

The cause of your misery is not in your outer life;
it is in you, as your ego.
Ramana Maharshi


A coworker recently commented that she sees me staring out the window a lot these days. “I’m meditating,” was my knee-jerk response. However, that wasn’t totally honest. I have a regular practice of meditation, and staring mindlessly out the window is not part of the practice. The operant word here is mindless. While mindfully staring out the window—simply being the observer of the world detached from all judging—would be helpful, mindlessly staring is nothing but trouble waiting to happen.

One of the biggest problems facing many people with a major health problem is what to do with the mind machine. How do I stop the incessant parade of facts, dark fantasies, and just pure fear stirred up by the mind? What do I do when the soundtrack in my head is like a hyper-kinetic version of Meet the Press? Why, for the love of God, can’t I just look out the window, see the rebirth that is spring, and sense the smell and feel of the warming air rather than think “I'll bet I’m going to glow in the dark by the time radiation treatments are over.”

The core difference between mindfulness and mindlessness is where the little troll known as the ego resides during the process. When we practice mindfulness, which Jon Kabat-Zinn defines as “paying attention in a particular way: on purpose, in the present moment, and nonjudgmentally,” the ego takes a back seat. All of the ego's cries of "Are we there yet?" are simply treated with benign neglect. When we are in a mindless state, the ego is not only in the front seat, but behind the wheel, drunk, with the GPS turned off. Mindlessness is characterized by a glazed look that says, “I know I'm lost, but there's no way in hell I'm pulling over to ask for directions.” When one is in a mindful state, however, there is generally a look of peace and a half-smile on one’s face. Quite the contrast.

My ego has been hit hard by this cancer diagnosis. It asks a lot of questions these days, and in the absence of what it considers good answers, it takes to looking off into the distance, as if this staring contest with the world will force some sort of sense out it. “I have ways of making you talk," it seems to be saying to the world, "and I will continue to look at you this way until you tell me what I need to know." The world, for its part, simply goes about its business knowing that the true answer is beyond the ego's grasp.

I have learned to wrestle the steering wheel out of the ego's tight grip by turning my attention to my breathing. This works like the snap of the hypnotist's fingers to bring me back to the here and now. If I'm in really deep, I'll even throw in a mantra for good luck. Two of my currents favorites are "The Kingdom of Heaven is now," and "Guru Guru Wahe Guru Guru Ram Das Guru (Oh Divine Guide, Divine Guide who carries me across the troubles and turmoil of life. How grateful I am for Your greatness, Divine Guide. You have taken form as the light of Guru Ram Das. In that form, guide me always.) These act as lullabies to the ego, thereby allowing me to get some well-earned rest. Not while driving, of course.