THE PRACTICE OF PRESENCE
- Dale Macintyre
- Jun 2, 2020
- 5 min read
Updated: Sep 22, 2022
We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time. – T.S. Elliot
It’s a pretty big undertaking, this commitment to log my experience of the practice of living with intention. It’s come down to this: don’t overthink, don’t make it too big – that is if the intention of practice is to emerge from confusion to arrive at some sort of clarity about living this life as it is with all its limitations and tragedies in the here and now.
The desire to emerge from confusion. That seems to be a common reason people seek the help of a counsellor.
Here’s one answer to that stuckness in confusion. The beginning, and the end, lies in the practice of presence. Presence is described in various ways. One way is this: presence is cultivating and sustaining a witness to my experience, no matter what that experience is. And this witness, being a special characteristic of the miracle of the human brain (at least as far as we know) can be also called the mind, the inner observer, or simply, awareness. Without this presence, this awareness or inner observer a person reacts rather than acts with intention and is a slave to impulses and compulsions. Occasionally we notice that we’re not really in control of our lives, but those brief moments of clarity too often result in a dreary round of self-judgement, self-loathing and despair. Until we disappear again into habits and distraction that bring relief but not much satisfaction.
Basically, the practice of presence is living in the here and now. Always at all times. And the end of that practice is also named as awakening. Awakening to my experience. Training myself to stop and pay attention in the here and now is a workable, practical, down-to-earth way of defining meditation. And it is a challenging practice, accustomed as we are, to living in our fixations, lost in mindlessness.
Recent science makes it clear that your brain takes its shape from what you rest your attention on. – Rick Hanson
There are countless instructions on learning how to meditate. You probably have your favourite. I’m not a meditation teacher, but I can share my own experience. Here’s a reflection on one of my recent sessions of meditation:
…sitting in the most recommended posture, (The 7-point meditation posture) to encourage alertness, attention and the flow of energy through my body. Relaxed and comfortable. Attention turned inward. It’s easy and quite pleasant to allow images and thoughts to wander in a stream becoming a whole inner world of movement … the body is gone. I’m completely absorbed in one thought or image randomly hitching itself to the next. Down into a rabbit hole. I feel a stirring of sensation and emotion – a general activation – it’s not noticeable until it’s quite strong, then there’s a certain reigning in of my mind and attention shifts – the body is back. Whoa … I wake up and realize … I’m really upset, or anxious, or excited … somatic responses to the runaway train that is my mind… and this could go through the whole meditation period. I’ve had it happen. I know this definitely isn’t meditation, this untamed mental charging around. Not if my purpose is to train the mind to concentrate, to pay attention. I’m like the guy who goes to the gym and spends the whole time shooting the breeze with whoever’s there. I give my head a shake, mutter a few self-admonitions and start again: I narrow my attention on an object – the in and out flow of my breath – in all its aspects: air coming in and out, the rise and fall of my chest and its effects on ribs and diaphragm. I make an honest effort to hold it there.
You know, it’s tremendously difficult. Uh, yeah… Even after years of practice. It’s like when my son was little and he wanted to run around in a store. I’d hold his hand to keep him close and under control. Before long I’d feel his little hand going limp hoping I wouldn’t notice so he could slip it out and escape. That’s what’s happening in my head – the mind trying to slip away from the eye of the observer. Curious thing, when it’s reigned in to hold attention on an object, the natural inclination of the mind is to escape the shackles I’ve placed on it, or jump the fence of the tiny enclosure that is my attention … it takes perseverance and practice and a lot of energy to hold fast and slowly coax the mind to settle. It will, so goes the promise of the sages. Once I’ve settled a little, I notice images (or remember that images have appeared and floated away because when they were happening I was totally lost in them). I’m guessing I was on the edge of sleep. And that’s not meditation either. Dream images may feel like some kind of transcendent, mystical experience, but no. What I’m working on is an alert, clear witness of my experience in the present moment. Anyway, I continue. And wait … The hope is my mind will become like the horse that stays close when there is no fence, or the dog that runs by my side with no leash to restrain it. I’ve had that happen, it’s a wonderful thing to jog along, connected beings – knowing the dog could take off faster than I could run, but it chooses to stay by my side and be with me. Unfettered but disciplined.
A few random thoughts till next time:
– Meditation practice offers the promise of reduced stress and relaxation. But its fruit is more sublime than that. It’s training in sustained concentration. That’s it. What happens as a result of this intentional training regimen is becoming grounded in the practice of presence.
– Most of us have experienced little phrases or stories that speak succinctly about the possibilities of the practice of presence, of living in the here and now. We know they are true. But the glimmer of our potential and what’s possible in this life as-it-is inevitably fades as we slip into unconscious reactions to our lives as-they-are. Little moments of realizing that fact are moments of awakening.
– If the sitting doesn’t appeal to you, or you’ve come to realize that sitting isn’t the end, there’s more to the the art of meditation.
– I’m wondering if meditating together might be something you’re interested in. It seems to work in an online setting. If I get some responses expressing interest in spending some time together … I’ll look into it.
%20copy.png)



Comments