Stolen Fire: A Doorway Into Meditation

Ancient tech for modern times

We live in a world that mostly works, most of the time. It does so because people mostly agree. We agree, more or less, on big picture ideas like “it’s not right to take something that isn’t yours” and “killing people is bad”. We agree on traffic rules, and unwritten social rules like taking turns speaking. People break these rules, with various consequences, but we’re aware that rules exist. We pretty much know where the lines are.

These rules are based on a common reality and a common experience. When anyone looks at the tree I’m looking at right now, they’ll see a trunk and green leaves. Your precise experience may differ—a botanist would see this tree differently than an artist, for instance. But we all have an experience that seems to go back to the same tree.

The phrase “consensus reality” is useful here. It simply means the everyday, material world of things that normal humans perceive. Hold on to that phrase as you read my writing. We’re going to be doing some weird things with it!

When we perceive consensus reality, we’re in a state of mind that we might call normal or maybe “waking consciousness.” There are, of course, other states—times when we see the world differently. The world we experience when dreaming is very different: numbers and writing change without warning from glance to glance, we can sometimes fly and walk through walls. Other “altered” states can occur when someone is on drugs, is not getting enough (or too much) oxygen, is very tired, under tremendous stress, or experiencing something we’d broadly label a “psychiatric event”.

When people are in these altered states, they perceive a reality that is different than consensus reality. We naturally assume that they are “seeing things” or are otherwise in error. Here is a case where we should be careful of the obvious: Your brain is “messed up”, so, of course, you are not going to be “seeing straight” and any “hallucination” you perceive is “nonsense.” Most sensible people would find it hard to argue with that.

I’m not sensible, at least not in that way. It’s true sometimes, but not always. None of this is simple, because sometimes perceptions are simply warped. But not everything that happens in an altered state of mind is meaningless nonsense. In fact, some very important things happen there.

Many famous scientists and mathematicians found solutions to long-standing problems in altered states of mind. Artists, writers, and musicians sometimes make a discipline of this quest. It’s not hard to argue that the founders of every major religion had multiple experiences of altered states and that the religions were built on the revelations that came from those experiences. And there is a substantial (and ever-growing) body of data showing that people have veridical perceptions in altered states.

There’s much more going on here than simply distorted perception, confusion, and illusion. There is great value in these altered states, and being able to access them with some degree of control just might be the difference between knowledge and ignorance.

The question is how do we access these altered states? How to do it reliably, and how to bring back useful information into normal, waking consciousness?

Today, we don’t have clear answers to that question. But, throughout much of history, peoples and cultures had answers. They considered this the work of utmost importance, and they did not leave it to chance. They devised reliable techniques—sometimes through ordeals, sometimes with the aid of plant allies, sometimes through rhythm, ritual, and dance. Sometimes these tools killed.

But among these tools, one stands tall for its simplicity, effectiveness, and presence in nearly all traditions we know of: meditation. Unlike the ordeal of a vision quest or the struggle of smoking a toxic plant, meditation offers a stable, reliable way to step across the threshold of consensus reality. And, just maybe, even return with a little stolen fire in our basket.

Meditation as a Tool

Of all the tools over untold thousands of years, only one bridges boardrooms, monasteries, living rooms, mountaintops, and ritual bonfires. Meditation has found an enduring place in our culture. Executives and thought leaders champion the benefits of the practice, and there are thousands of meditation apps, programs, and sound tracks available on our electronic devices—all designed to make meditation easier and more accessible.

However, most of what happens with meditation apps is not meditation. It’s either guided visualization, or some variation of hypnosis. It feels good. It’s relaxing and calming and even restorative. But it only touches the surface of what is possible. Rather than meditation, it might be more accurate to label these “mental wellness apps”. You can engage with meditation apps for years, following guru after guru in guided meditations, without ever touching the experience of meditation.

I’m not saying that you should avoid meditation apps. There are some very good ones out there, created by thoughtful people with much experience. But I am saying if you want a chance of truly experiencing what lies beyond, the old ways are better. We are touching an ancient technology of the mind, and the tools and techniques are as powerful for us today as they were thousands of years ago.

This path is not easy and you won’t benefit from the gamified dopamine hits of apps. You have to do the work. Reading about it, thinking about doing it, or wishing you are doing it will do absolutely nothing for you. Engaging with it for a few days and then moving on will do nothing but waste your time. The real value only comes if you can carve out a bit of time (15 minutes, at most, unless you get very serious) every day, ideally at the same time, and do the practice.

One more thought before we get started: These practices look and sound so silly they can be easily dismissed. The heart of any practice can mostly be explained in a single sentence. Today I’m going to tell you to close your eyes and feel through your body. There. That’s the whole practice.

Something so simple can’t possibly be useful, can it? Something that seems so utterly boring can’t possibly open doors to new experiences, can it? Yes, it can, but it asks quite a lot of you. I didn’t design this, but it does almost seem designed as a door that will only open to the dedicated and sincere seeker. Only someone with interest and perspective that is not normal is likely to put the time in and reap the rewards.

Body Awareness: Doorway to Practice

So, what to do? You need a quiet place where you will be uninterrupted.

For most meditation, sitting is probably better than lying down because we don’t really want to fall asleep. In this case, you could experiment with doing this practice before going to bed and sliding into sleep from this state. The quality of that sleep might be different in some interesting ways.

I would suggest two or maybe three items to help you along your journey. A simple timer like this can be good, especially at the beginning. At first, five minutes will seem like an eternity, but your perception of time will shift, over time. You can use your smartphone as a timer, but I would suggest putting it into airplane mode (not just on silent) for reasons that will either be very clear to you later or completely opaque.

It's also a good idea to have some kind of simple journal. After each session, record what you did and your experiences with it. You don’t have to write a novella or a poem every day—jotted notes will build continuity. But you will likely be drawn to write a bit more some days, and some wisdom uniquely targeted to you will grow from this work.

So you have your journal and your timer. Set the timer for 5 minutes, and then simply do this:

Place your attention on the fingertips of your right hand. All of your attention and focus right there, right at the fingertips.

Right away, you’ll find yourself thinking about what you’re going to do later, what you need to do for work, or what you’re going to eat—this is normal. Smile at those thoughts when they arise, and gently place your focus back on those fingertips. It's normal for your mind to be unstable. The more you pay attention, the more you’ll notice this. Though this can feel like failure (“why can’t I quiet my mind”), it’s actually the first step of success. Building awareness is the key that unlocks many doors.

For now, just don’t get sidetracked. Ignore thoughts when they come up. If you realize that a line of thought has won and that you are now following it, that’s perfectly fine. Just bring your attention back to those fingertips.

After you have spent maybe half a minute on your fingertips, expand your awareness to the tips of the fingers of both hands. And then let it expand to your hands. Don’t do anything other than attend to your attention, and to let that attention rest, comfortably, in your hands for a few minutes.

The first time you do this, you’ll probably struggle a bit and be relieved when the timer goes off. But do come back tomorrow and do it again. It gets easier and interesting things start to happen.

Over time, your brain will probably interrupt you less often with random thoughts, but that will depend on the day. If you’ve got stuff going on that day, expect it to bleed over into your sessions. It will be a while—weeks, probably—until you start to find some peace and calm here that may be insulated from your daily experience.

Then, maybe on the second or third day you do this, shift your awareness to your toes. You’ll likely find this harder, which makes it a good starting point for future sessions: sit or lie down, calm yourself, and place your attention fully and completely on the toes of your feet. Same thing, just sit there with your attention in your toes. Then you can expand it to your feet.

Once you’re comfortable with that, allow your attention to move through your entire body, but nowhere else. Again, gently reject your brain’s efforts to think about the work project or the thing you have to do for your kids later. Right here, right now, just focus on feeling your body.

Maybe focus on the minute sensations you might otherwise miss. Can you feel the air flowing across your skin? Can you feel the clothes you are wearing? (Yes, you certainly can, which raises the question of why you are not usually aware of that sensation. Do you wonder what else might be with you all the time that you are also missing?) Can you feel your body move as you breathe? Can you feel your hair? Can you feel your heartbeat?

Again, that’s all there is to it. Don’t do anything else. Just simply, and perfectly, place your attention—the entirety of your attention—on the feeling of your body.

Extend the timer by a minute or so each day until you’ve reached fifteen minutes a session. Don’t expect this to be linear—ten minutes might be easy some days while two minutes can feel like a struggle another day. You’re getting to know yourself and your reactions on a very close level.

This is important work. It’s not the only door into meditation, but it’s a good one.

This is a doorway. It’s a true and authentic doorway, and beyond it lies true and authentic practice. I’ve shown you the doorway, but that does nothing for you unless you choose to walk through it. This simple practice, done daily, is the beginning of a journey.

Disclosure: This post contains an Amazon Associates link. If you purchase through this link, I may earn a small commission at no additional cost to you. I only recommend products I actually use and believe in. I bought three of these at the same time because I’m always losing them. One is in this room and I have no idea where the other two are.