Meditation — Stepping Beyond Our Thoughts and Discovering Ourselves
Meditation — Stepping Beyond Our Thoughts and Discovering Ourselves
What exhausts us most in life is not always the events that happen around us. Very often, it is the endless stream of thoughts, judgments, fears, expectations and interpretations that our own mind creates around those events.
Something happens. That is simply an event. But our mind can create a hundred stories around it.
“Why did this happen?” “Why did he speak to me like that?” “I should not have done that.” “What will happen tomorrow?” “Will I be able to cope?”
One thought follows another.
When we become trapped in this constant movement of the mind, we gradually stop living life itself and begin living inside our thoughts.
This is why the greatest gift meditation offers us is not merely peace, but awareness.
Meditation is not a magical practice that makes all thoughts disappear.
Nor is its purpose to prevent thoughts from arising.
Let the thoughts come.
Let them go.
The deeper practice of meditation is learning to observe them without automatically following them.
Look at the sky.
Clouds appear, remain for a while, and then disappear.
The sky does not hold on to any cloud.
It does not say, “This cloud should not be here.”
Our thoughts are much the same.
Some are pleasant.
Some are frightening.
Some belong to the past.
Others belong to a future that has not yet arrived.
We are not our thoughts. We are the awareness that can observe our thoughts.
When we begin to experience this truth for ourselves, a subtle transformation begins within us.
We often believe that every thought arising in our mind must be true.
If the thought “I cannot do this” appears, we immediately assume that we really cannot do it.
If the thought “That person does not respect me” arises, we accept it as fact.
If we think, “This is how my life is going to be,” we allow that thought to become the verdict on our entire life.
Meditation gradually creates a little space between ourselves and our thoughts.
Instead of saying, “I cannot do this,” we begin to notice, “The thought that I cannot do this has arisen in my mind.”
There is a profound difference between these two states.
In the first, the thought controls us.
In the second, we are observing the thought.
And within that space, freedom begins.
One of the greatest obstacles within us is the judgmental mind.
It is constantly evaluating everything “This is good; that is bad. He is like this she is like that.
I am right they are wrong.”
The mind keeps passing judgments.
Strangely enough, we often judge ourselves more harshly than we judge others.
If we make a small mistake, we ask ourselves, “Why did I do that?”
If we miss an opportunity, we conclude, “My life is always like this.”
If someone says something hurtful about us, we may carry those few words in our hearts for days.
In this way, our own mind becomes our judge, our prosecutor and sometimes even our prison.
Meditation does not necessarily silence that inner judge immediately.
But it teaches us something profound:
We can hear what the mind is saying without believing everything it says.
That is the beauty of awareness.
When a negative thought arises, we do not have to fight it.
We do not have to force it away.
We do not have to punish ourselves by asking, “Why do I have such thoughts?”
Instead, we can quietly say within ourselves:
“Hello, negative thought. I know that you are here. I can see you. But you do not have to control my day.”
That simple shift in awareness can be profoundly liberating.
A thought may arise without our permission.
But the importance we give that thought, and whether we allow it to determine our actions, can increasingly come under the guidance of awareness.
This is where meditation connects deeply with creativity.
Look at a child.
A child may see a stone and imagine a toy.
A simple stick can become a sword.
A blank sheet of paper can become an entire world.
Why?
Because the child's mind has not yet become completely imprisoned by rigid judgments about how things must be.
As we grow older, experience gives us wisdom.
But sometimes the same experiences can narrow our vision.
The mind begins to create boundaries:
“That is impossible.”
“This is the only way it can be done.”
“People are always like this.”
“Life is simply like that.”
Creativity is the ability to see something new.
But to see something new, we sometimes need to step away from the judgments of the past.
Meditation creates that space.
When the mind becomes quieter, we begin to hear the softer voice of our inner being.
Beneath the constant noise of our thoughts, there is a gentle voice that may have been unheard for a long time.
Sometimes it comes as a new idea.
Sometimes as a line of poetry.
Sometimes as a piece of music.
Sometimes as a quiet clarity that says, “This is what I need to do.”
And sometimes it comes without words at all as a peaceful feeling that simply says,
“Everything will be all right.”
This is one of the ways meditation opens the door to creativity.
Creativity does not belong only to artists, writers or musicians.
A mother discovering a new way to speak to her child is creativity.
A worker finding a simple solution to a difficult problem is creativity.
An older person responding to a family conflict with patience rather than anger is creativity.
Creativity is the ability to approach life afresh, moment by moment.
And awareness makes that possible.
Without awareness, life can become a life of habit.
Someone speaks harshly to us, and we immediately become angry.
Someone criticises us, and we instantly become defensive.
A problem appears, and fear immediately takes over.
But as awareness grows, a small space begins to appear between what happens and how we respond.
That space is one of the deepest forms of human freedom.
We cannot always change what happens.
We cannot change other people's personalities.
We cannot change the past.
We cannot reshape every circumstance of life according to our wishes.
But we can increasingly change the inner state from which we meet those circumstances.
This is why meditation is not an escape from the world.
It is a practice of remaining in the middle of the world without allowing the world to completely possess our inner being.
For an ordinary human being, this can be immensely valuable.
When there is disagreement within the family, we may learn to pause and take a breath instead of immediately throwing words at one another.
When someone insults us, we may learn to notice, “Anger is arising within me,” rather than immediately reacting.
When fear appears, instead of saying, “I am afraid,” we may begin to observe, “There is an experience of fear within me right now.”
When sadness comes, we can learn not to run away from it, but to sit quietly with it.
This is spiritual maturity.
Meditation does not promise a life without suffering.
It teaches us how to be with suffering.
It does not promise a mind that never becomes angry.
It teaches us how not to become completely identified with anger when it arises.
It does not promise a mind free from negative thoughts.
It gives us the awareness to decide whether those thoughts deserve our belief and attention.
That is genuine freedom.
From a deeper spiritual perspective, meditation is not merely an exercise for training the mind.
It gradually leads us toward the profound question:
“Who am I?”
If I can observe my thoughts, then who is the one observing those thoughts?
There is no need to rush to answer this question intellectually.
Simply observe.
Thoughts arise.
Feelings arise.
Memories arise.
Sensations arise within the body.
They change.
Yet there is an awareness that witnesses them all.
This is where the deeper journey of meditation begins.
When we step slightly away from our thoughts, our identity begins to expand.
Instead of saying, “I am anger,” we begin to see, “Anger is arising within me.”
Instead of saying, “I am a failure,” we begin to see, “A failure has occurred in my life.”
An event is not our entire life.
A thought is not our entire truth.
An emotion is not our permanent identity.
When this understanding begins to take root, we slowly become free from the old stories we have created about ourselves.
This is why meditation can become a profound spiritual revolution.
It may not change anything outside us, but it changes the way we see what is happening within us.
The same people may remain around us.
The same home.
The same work.
The same world.
But our eyes begin to see differently.
A person who once irritated us may now be seen as someone who is also carrying wounds of their own.
An experience that once appeared to be a failure may now raise the question, “What is life trying to teach me through this?”
A period of loneliness that once felt like punishment may now be understood as a time given to us to meet ourselves more deeply.
This is the transformative power of awareness.
You do not need a special room to meditate.
You do not need great wealth.
You do not need special clothing.
You do not need to sit on the top of a mountain.
You can simply sit quietly for a few minutes in the morning.
Notice the breath as it enters.
Notice the breath as it leaves.
When thoughts arise, do not follow them. Simply notice that they have arisen.
When the mind wanders, gently recognise, “The mind has wandered,” and return to the breath.
There is no success or failure here.
Even if the mind wanders a thousand times, bringing it back to awareness for the thousand-and-first time is itself the practice of meditation.
Gradually, meditation begins to enter our everyday life.
When drinking tea, we simply drink the tea and experience it.
When speaking to someone, instead of preparing our reply, we truly listen.
When walking, we experience walking.
When eating, we experience the food.
When anger arises, we observe the anger.
When joy arises, we allow ourselves to experience it fully.
This is living with awareness.
Ultimately, meditation does not separate us from life. It connects us more deeply with life.
When we are constantly worrying about the future, today's life quietly slips away from us.
When we repeatedly revisit the past, the present moment passes silently before our eyes.
Meditation brings us back to the doorway of now.
This moment is the only moment we truly possess.
The past may exist as memory.
The future may exist as expectation.
But life is happening here and now.
To be fully present in this moment is awareness.
Therefore, do not think of meditation merely as a duty or discipline.
See it as an invitation from life an invitation to meet yourself.
Sit quietly for a few minutes.
Observe your thoughts.
Do not judge them.
Do not fight them.
Do not run behind them.
Simply observe.
One day, you may discover:
“Thoughts are present, but they do not control me.”
“Anger is present, but I am not anger.”
“Fear is present, but I am not fear.”
“Sadness is present, but my entire life is not sadness.”
Then a new space begins to open within you.
There may be peace in that space.
There may be creativity.
There may be love.
There may be clarity.
And beyond all of these, the deeper spiritual doorway may open:
“Who am I — the one who is aware of all these thoughts and feelings?”
You do not need someone else to walk through that doorway.
You are the one who must enter.
Because ultimately, meditation does not give us something we never possessed.
It reveals to us what has always been within us.
Peace is already within us.
Awareness is already within us.
Creativity is already within us.
Love is already within us.
But they may be covered by the dust of countless thoughts.
Meditation gently clears that dust.
We do not have to create the sun.
When the clouds move away, the sun reveals itself naturally.
In the same way, we do not have to manufacture the peace and clarity that already exist within us.
When the unnecessary noise of the mind becomes quiet, what has always been there begins to reveal itself.
That is the greatest gift of meditation.
It does not change who we are.
It enables us to discover who we truly are.
“You can do it.”
With love,
Sakthi Sakthithasan
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