Meditation has no purpose, no objective, except to be entirely here and now. It isn’t something you do to improve yourself, to get ahead in the world, or to prepare yourself for life. For the division of time into past, present, and future is a trick of words and numbers. All memories, and expectations, exist now, and now only. Because now is what there is and all that there is. We could say that the past flows back from now like the wake from the prow of a ship, and then, just like the wake, vanishes. As the wake doesn’t drive the ship, the past doesn’t propel, or move, the present—unless you, here and now, want to insist that it does, and so give yourself a perpetual alibi for every kind of irresponsibility.

But I’m not preaching. That would be a diversion from our feeling centered in this eternal here and now; from feeling it directly as the reality. Again, then: just let all sounds going on play upon your eardrums without trying to name, identify, or locate them.

Relax your tongue. Let it just float in your lower jaw. Close your eyes. If you’re still thinking in words or calculating about this, that, and the other—which you are supposed to be doing—don’t try to stop it. Just let your mind do whatever it likes and hear its chatter as if you were listening to rippling water.

So then, we’re going to try and find out and feel what we mean by the word “now.” Not the idea, but the actual sensation.

Get it?

Like that? Or this?

Are these two different kinds of now? One a short, sharp pop, and the other a long, continuous boom? Is now a split-split second, or is it a drawn-out expanse of sensation? Try this: just stand up for a moment and take three steps forward. One, two, three, and stop. Where, at this moment, is the first step you took? And where is the next movement you’re going to make? Hold it! Be still. Next movement hasn’t happened. Past movements aren’t here. Where are you? When are you? What is the position of the universe? When is it? Where is it? Take another step. Is this a new now or the same old now where you always were? The next step is not with your feet, but with your imagination. Recall the first step that you just made. Now, when are you? Back then or still here?

Don’t think a word, just feel.

So please sit down again and relax.

For meditation it’s best to sit on the floor—in lotus posture, or just cross-legged, or kneeling on a cushion and sitting back on your heels, spine straight, hands with palms upward resting upon each other. The reason for this position is that it’s firm and grounded, and just uncomfortable enough to keep you from going to sleep. But don’t fight the discomfort. Relax into the position just as you have learned how to relax and to ease out a long, long breath, and so create energy without strain. In the same way, if you have understood that there is no time but now, you will be able without the least difficulty to sit in this way for a long time as measured by the clock.

Once again, the essence of the whole art is to feel, to experience, to sense what is, what happens, without defining it, without saying anything to yourself about it. So let your breath flow easily, heavily, down and out again. No strain.

And after it has come back in, once more.

Keep it up. We’re going to play it along with a sound, mu, a Chinese/Japanese word which means: that which isn’t a thing, a think, a thought, an idea, but reality itself. The very sound.

Mmmooooooouuuuummmmmmmmmmm.

Dig that!

Mmmmuuuuuuuuuuuuuuoooooooooouuuuuuh.

What is mu?

Mmmmuuuuuuuuuuuuuuoooooooooouuuuuuh.

How old is mu?

Mmmmuuuuuuuuuuuuuuoooooooooouuuuuuh.

What do you mean by mu?

Mmoooo-ohhh-moo-ohhh-moo-ohhhooooooooouuuuuuh.

Who are you?

Mm-ooh-ooooohhooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrroooooooouuuuuuuhh.

Well then, who are you? What is you? What is I? Some people say it’s this body, others the mind, the ego, or the soul. But all those—body included—are names and notions. Can we experience the self directly—like a sound, a flame or any other object?

Put your hands on that mysteriously invisible thing known as your head. Keep your eyes open easily, blinking occasionally without staring. Let’s assume that all ordinary ideas of what my self is are either so wrong or so doubtful that we must investigate the matter directly. But to do that, you must first get the sensation, the feeling of yourself, without forming any idea. Regard words in the head as mere noise. Relax your tongue and let it float easily in your lower jaw. Just stop, look, and listen.

Now, let the various colors and shapes before you play with your eyes just as you have been letting sounds play with your ears. Where are they? Out in front of your face or inside your brain; in the optical nervous system? Is your head in the world or is the world in your head? Or both?

Odd, isn’t it? Either you were everything you felt, or you just didn’t feel yourself the feeler at all, just as you didn’t see your eyes. All or nothing. As is said in an ancient Chinese text called The Secret of the Golden Flower: “Between the all and the void is only a difference of name.”

Now put your hands back on your lap, palms upward, one upon the other, and just let go of it all.

Let your ears hear whatever they like. Let the nerve ends in your skin feel whatever they like. Let your eyes see whatever they like. Let your nose smell whatever it likes. Let your mind think whatever it likes. Let your lungs breathe as they will. And let things happen as they are happening.

Are these all different senses, or just one sense; consciousness? Listen to my voice as you listen to the sound of the rain. The sound of the rain needs no translation, no explanation. Listen to my voice as you listen to the rain. Listen to my voice as you listen to the rain. The sound of the rain needs no translation, no explanation.

So, now I want to show you another form of meditation which I heard about from a Zen Buddhist master, who said it was one of the very best ways. Will you please stand up and put your hands on your hips with wrists upwards? Now, let’s all just laugh!

And now sit down again. This Zen master told me that you should do that first thing in the morning when you get up. And it’s even better than sitting for a long time and getting your legs stiff. Now, how do you feel? Where was “you” when you were laughing? What is “you” now? Listen.

Aaaaaaauuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmm.