At the end of any given Wednesday night meditation, it's not uncommon for our leader to ask, "How did it go for everyone? Did anybody struggle?"
There's never a rush to answer. Maybe nobody wants to admit that they struggled, or maybe they really did just fine, thanks. In any case, the 45-minute session is over anyway, which is a relief, along with whatever struggling might have occurred.
Still, Wayne asks about "struggle"--because he knows that it's part of spiritual practice at times.
It's not easy to sit in stillness for long periods, especially if we're new to it. Sometimes we wonder if we're doing it right, or whether we can keep going. We may start worrying about the wondering...and struggle happens.
It happens in songwriting too. We may struggle with the gap between our desire to write a great song, and our ability to write only a fair one. We may struggle to write lyrics that say something meaningful and that also rhyme. We may also struggle when we notice a self-critical streak that interferes with the joy of simply making music.
Why do we struggle, we struggle so?
That line, I discovered today, has a lovely lilt to it despite its challenging subject matter. Intuitively, we know that beautiful things can come out of struggle. In fact, when it comes to art, tension and resistance is essential.
And yet, it's not fun for most of us. We want our songwriting experience to be pleasant, harmonious and flowing...and our meditation to be calm and peaceful. Perhaps our desire for struggle-free anything is what trips us up?
As our leader gently reminds us, struggle is to be expected. We can explore it without anxiety, instead of denying or avoiding it. Staying present and focused, we realize that we can hang in there. We don't have to give up on meditation, or a song, or learning to swim, of making a souffle, or maintaining a relationship.
When we keep showing up, despite the effort it takes, we will come to appreciate both the flow and the struggle...the back and forth that affirms we are alive.
