Counting the breath, meditation on an object are all techniques that build up the concentration, but that same concentration can come out of an intense inquiry into the nature of oneself.

And so it seems to me that Soto Zen and Rinzai Zen are essentially the same. Sitting on one’s mat in still awareness is the same as enquiring “Who am I?” I think it’s no co-incidence that Hui Neng, in my opinion the founder of Zen, asked his first student “What was your original nature before you were born?” You have to sit quietly for an answer don’t you.

It’s the same as the Christian injunction to “Be still and know that I am God.” And Dolano’s advice that you must love meditation is basically saying that you must love being still.

Christ pointed to the kingdom of heaven being within. Isn’t that such a major hint. Buddha pointed to the fullness of the seeming void. And more recently Ramana and Krishnamurti both pointed to the inquiry into one’s own nature.

And then to carry this stillness, call it spaciousness if you will beyond meditation and into one’s outer life. It strikes me that’s what mindfulness is.

Some teachers point to the idea that the practise of mindfulness in meditation leads to mindfulness in one’s life. If mindfulness and stillness are the same then we’re saying even in action be still.

And that carries the conversation back to that teaching in the Bhagavad Gita

He who can see inaction in action, and action in inaction is the wisest among men. He is a saint, even though he still acts.

I got a paper on my desk the other day entitled “How authentic is the X brand in Y?” It’s an interesting question.

But, what is this search for authenticity? In one way it strikes me as odd that a person would seek authenticity outside of themselves. An authentic spare part. It’s a real one.

But then brands seek to be authentic as well. Have an authentic story. Come from a certain place. Or have a long history. Be the real thing.

Krishnamurti points out in the video above that we spend our life imitating. I think this is it. Because we aren’t authentic we seek the authentic outside of ourselves. If we were authentic, would authenticity matter? It’s like beauty products. Because people don’t feel beautiful they buy beauty products to try and make them feel beautiful. Some psychologists call this projection. And then some brand owners through their brands seek to stand for an inner truth. Why not? We, humanity, are not, often.

Authenticity is an interesting word. Apparently it derives from autos self hentes doer. There’s originality it seems in authenticity. If I buy brand X will that make me authentic? Society may think so. And for a short while I may believe so. But really we know it’s not the case.

According to the Greek origins of the word, it seems that there is an unconditioned act. Unconditioned is the opposite of imitated isn’t it? A pure act in the here and now, that is not part of the chain of causality. And that means it’s not hindered by expectation. Because the moment there is an expectation on the act there is an implied chain of causes.

Only the mind that is free is authentic. A mind that is free doesn’t look externally for authenticity. In that act of looking externally there is imitation.

So, what’s the difference? I don’t mind a brand that reminds me to be authentic. I have a few statues of Buddha at home. They are not the authentic Buddha. Most of them aren’t even authentic carvings. Yet they serve to remind me to sit in meditation, and practise sitting in the now. And at the same time they are just statues and the reminder is what my mind has given to them. They’re just metal or stone or clay or glue.

So, what is the I that is authentic?

It’s actually quite interesting watching how everything is unfolding. If love is letting go of fear then I’m certainly learning to love life.

Eckhart Tolle’s view that the presence is here and now and can only be attained here and now it strikes me is right. And I like Krishnamurti’s uncompromising commitment to inner peace.

Could I say that uncertainty like certainty is also an illusion? Both thoughts are projections of identity into the future, creating a lack of focus on the present moment.

Eckhart also says that when you live in the now that you know exactly what to do. Perhaps he’s right.

The hard thing is not sitting down to do it everyday. That becomes a habit eventually. Although that can be part of it. What makes it hard is holding the mind to no thing apart from the breath and holding ones attention singly in front.

Another thing that makes it hard is keeping it dynamic. The arising of thoughts is an interesting phenomenon. For me often the thoughts that do arise are issues that need dealing with and often that means letting go of something that’s been pushed under for some time. I keep separate sessions for that though.

My morning meditation is holding the mind still on the breath and evening is letting go It’s quite a useful way to end the day. And importantly it provides an opportunity to deal with the thoughts that arise in the morning .

U.G. Krishnamurti, not to be confused with Jiddu Krishnamurti, is not into meditation it seems. And he points towards a childhood experience.

“My grandfather used to meditate. (He is dead, and I don’t want to say anything bad about him.) He used to meditate for one or two hours in a separate meditation room. One day a little baby, one and a half or two years old, started crying for some reason. That chap came down and started beating the child, and the child almost turned blue — and this man, you see, meditating two hours every day. ‘Look! What is this he has done?’ That posed a sort of (I don’t want to use the psychological term, but there is no escape from it) a traumatic experience — ‘There must be something funny about the whole business of meditation. Their lives are shallow, empty. They talk marvelously, express things in a very beautiful way, but what about their lives? There is this neurotic fear in their lives: they say something, but it doesn’t operate in their lives. What is wrong with them?’ — not that I sat in judgement over those people.”

— (Krishnamurti, U.G.; Arms, Rodney, Ed. [Third Edition, 2001]. Mystique of Enlightenment. Part One. Retrieved April 18, 2005 from [4])

It is obvious that grandfather wasn’t practising mindfulness. I’m not sure what kind of meditation he was doing. There are afterall many kinds, but it’s unlikely it was a mindfulness meditation. It sounds like he was using meditation as an escape.

They say Zen is the hardest kind of meditation. I’m not sure about that, but there is no doubt that the labour of this kind of meditation, which is not any kind of escape because it demands a participation in the world that is well… deeply present, produces compassionate mindfulness. And occasionally I get asked by people whether I think it would benefit them.

The last thing that makes meditation, the kind we practise, hard is grounding it in everyday life. But that’s the point isn’t it. It’s not just that meditation is the practise, but so is being incarnated into this threefold vehicle of body, feelings and mind.