It turns out there’s a wrong way to meditate. The ultimate goal of meditation, the desired end of mindfulness practice, is to reach a state of perfect equanimity where the most enlightened practitioner is able to greet all states of being, good or bad, with neutrality. The desire to cling to what is good disappears. The desire to push away what is painful disappears. Suffering and joy are recognized as transitory. The idea of good and bad itself disappears – everything is exactly as it should be. 

There is a lot to like about this. I do a lot of “should”-ing – I really did in my drinking days. I put up a lot of resistance when things weren’t how I wanted them to be, and this caused me a lot of suffering. Being able to accept things as they are, not as I want them to be, is something I will work on imperfectly my entire life. Learning to sit with pain, so it doesn’t turn into suffering, has been one of the most important experiences in my meditation practice. I used to have a lot of “should” thoughts about pain, too – “I should not be experiencing this pain,” “This pain should be going away faster,” etc. – and I’ve been recognizing slowly through mindfulness how those “should” thoughts have increased my suffering. When “should” goes away, and I realize that even things that are painful couldn’t be any other way, shouldn’t be any other way, it relieves so much of my suffering.

Recognizing that everything is temporary is also an insight with huge power to decrease suffering and increase appreciation for the good things in life. When something you love is gone, the “should” response is that it should still be here. The wiser response is that it could never have remained permanently, and accepting that this is the time to say goodbye is recognition that everything is exactly as it should be, and could never have been any different. And just as your joy in the beloved something couldn’t last, your grief will eventually pass too. If your consciousness is the open sky, it can be filled with roiling stormclouds or clear sun, but all of these experiences pass like weather, and you can let them come and go.   

And whether I like it or don’t, these teachings represent 2,500 years of humanity’s best thinking about consciousness and living an examined life. In the face of this pedigree, it seems downright ridiculous to suggest I like a different way better. My resistance to the full spectrum of teachings is probably just a neophyte’s arrogance, and over time, I’ll come to see that the Buddha was right all along. In 2,500 years of students, I’m sure literally millions of people have grappled with wanting to cherry-pick Buddhism’s teachings, and these ideas have surfaced and students have grown out of their adolescent discomfort.

But I do struggle with the idea of giving up joy. Maybe I misunderstand true equanimity. Do I have to give up feeling good about things that make me happy? Is it enough to recognize that joy is fleeting like pain? When I am in a mindset where I embrace that happiness will pass, it makes me so grateful for the things that are bringing me joy right now. It deepens my appreciation, and makes me determined to get every drop of love I can from the entire experience. With a painful future of loss on the horizon, I don’t want to look back with regret that I didn’t love with my full attention when I could. But this isn’t equanimity, this is embracing love with both hands. 

And how does gratitude fit into equanimity? If we are indifferent to whether our experiences are joyful or painful, how can we fully appreciate when things are good – when goodness itself is neutralized? When I am grateful for my good fortune, it doesn’t matter if it’s small things like hot water for a cup of tea, or material things like a fat 401k, or emotional things like the love of a child, it seems to require a judgment call: That having love is better than not having love. And moreover, if I recognize that these good things are transitory, I have to be present, in the moment, appreciate it right now, because there is a future when it will not be here.

I have lived my life in this way a lot, and it gets better the more I practice it. I guess I’m supposed to be working toward neutrality. Maybe I need more education. I can definitely concede I’m not the most enlightened meditator. Perhaps there’s a pretty typical middle stage where people feel like they’re getting it right, but haven’t really attained true wisdom. But this approach has brought so much joy, and happiness, and peace to my life that I have a hard time accepting that it’s wrong. If it increases joy and decreases suffering – well, how is that not a legitimate goal? I like to think the Buddha would be happy for me.