Image by alicepopkorn via FlickrOne of the best things about my recent trip to Chicago was the opportunity to meet and talk with Roger Thomson, PhD, Mary Connors, PhD, and several of their colleagues. We talked quite a bit about mindfulness in psychotherapy, and about meditation. It is acknowledged by those who study this stuff that the two overlapping constructs ("mindfulness" and "meditation") are not well-defined, if we are using scientific standards. Not long ago, I wrote a post about this (click here), in which I place at least some emphasis on the idea that "meditation" is a mental activity that involves the deliberate placing and shifting of attention.
The "attentional training" explanation of meditation goes like this: We begin a session of meditation by following the instruction to pay attention to the sensations of our breathing, while sitting still. We settle in, to do just that. Sooner or later (probably sooner!) we notice that our attention has drifted away from the sensations of breathing, onto something else: perhaps we have been thinking about what we would like to have for lunch... or about how silly this whole meditation process seems... And, having noticed that our attention has drifted away, we bring it back to the sensations of breathing. We also notice any reactivity or judgment that occurs, about the drifting of our attention (e.g., thinking and feeling that: "I am a lousy meditator! My attention drifted away again!") and, insofar as possible, we bring some compassion or even humor to that.
According to some researchers and theorists, the benefits of meditation might be explained, at least in part, by reference to attentional focus and shifting: the deliberate acts of placing attention, noticing that attention has drifted, and repeatedly bringing attention back to a chosen target, might be responsible for strengthening the connections between the frontal lobes of the brain and some areas within the midbrain (the amygdala, for example) that are very much involved in emotional functioning. And this, in turn, may explain the improvements in emotion regulation, and reductions in impulsivity, that can take place for individuals who embark upon a regular meditation practice.
After our Chicago visit, my friend Roger Thomson, PhD, of Live Mindfully, wrote a very thoughtful and interesting post about a couple of the topics we discussed. One of these topics had to do with this whole business of meditation-as-attentional-training. He has some reservations about this way of looking at, or explaining, meditation. Here's an excerpt:
"In mindfulness, our intention is to be open to any experience and to know it for what it is. It seems to me that the curative and liberating power of mindfulness is not the result of simply having greater control over our attention. It is deeply involved with having more wisdom and compassionate insight into the true nature of our experience...I very much appreciate what Roger is saying, because it rings true for me, and it approaches something that I have thought about (and written about, a bit, click here) in the past: many of us are interested in meditation because we are looking for something that is somehow "deeper," and possibly more significant than, for example, the goal of an enhanced capacity for attentional focus... or even the goal of improved emotion regulation. Some people come to meditation as a practice that can be called "spiritual," in the sense that it might bring us closer to an apprehension of, or experience of, something we might call ultimate reality. Or closer to what I use as the short-hand expression of my own understanding of Buddhist practice: clarity and compassion (or: wisdom). Roger is, I believe, directing our attention to the Buddhist exhortation to give up "delusion" (the mis-apprehension of reality), the clouding of awareness by our propensity to let our minds tell us stories about our lives. Problems arise when we believe all the stories we tell, and thoughts that we think, as true statements about reality (thinking, and believing, that *I can't stand it if so-and-so happens!* causes no end of unnecessary grief). This is why the practice of "noting" or "labeling" can be an effective training method within mindfulness (or meditation) practice. There is a world of difference between (a) engaging in (and believing) the thought that "I am a jerk," and (b) the act of noticing that I am (once again!) having the thought that says I am a jerk... Seeing clearly what is really going on (as opposed to what my mind tells me is going on) is a large part of wisdom.
"I would like to assert a few propositions about mindfulness for the purpose of continuing the discussion.
- Mindfulness is essentially a process of reminding ourselves of the reality of our life.
- Mindfulness is a way of developing wisdom (disengaging from our illusions) about our experience.
- Mindfulness is more like waking from a dream than learning to pay attention to some other element of a dream."
Finally, I notice that, when I write about all this, it seems complicated. But it need not be so complicated... in fact, one of the first things I thought of when I read Roger's post was that one of the very least complicated meditation instructions of all might be the very best, and it is this: "Just sit, knowing that you are sitting." And, of course, when you are thinking, just know that you are thinking... when you are drinking tea, just know that you are drinking tea. I am writing my blog post, knowing that I am writing my blog post... Thanks, Roger!
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