Sitting for the sake of it

Yesterday, after quite a few days, I set the timer to fifteen minutes. Legs folded, seated on the bed. Eyes about to close.

And a thought came before I had even started. Let me not try to be conscious of any of this. No intent of meditation. No effort to be aware that I am being aware.

I let it stand.

Eyes closed. I was not even focusing on the breath, the in and out. I told myself, just don’t move. Watch what happens. What thoughts come. When they come. Whether the breath gets faster, shallow, deep.

For the first time, it happened. I could see the variation in my breath. Not feel it as something I was doing. See it. The way you notice rain getting heavier from inside a window.

I kept returning to one feeling — the body, stable, no movement.

The mind chatter was there. Strains and stretches in the body were there. But there was a distance now. Not the distance of pushing things away. More like a passer-by who happens to be on the same road as everything else.

What was different from all the past sittings?

Every other time, I was making effort. I had taken meditation as a conscious exercise — and anything taken as an exercise demands effort. Sit. Focus. Be aware. Stay aware. Check whether you are aware.

That checking is also a thought. The effort to be conscious is itself the noise.

Conscious is not the doing. It is what remains when the doing stops. I had been working at something that only arrives when work is absent.

Yesterday I sat for the sake of sitting. Like being asked to sit, nothing more.

The timer rang at fifteen minutes. I don’t know what I achieved.

Maybe that was it.