tiltbillings wrote:danieLion wrote:Hi pedro1985,
I used to listen to music a lot. Now, if I'm not careful (practice some restraint) songs get stuck in my head and play like loops, including while I sit.
Sorry it's not a sutta reference.
If a song gets stuck in your head while you are sitting, what do you do? Is it an occasion for negative feelings in response to the this bit of mental music?
Absolutely.danieLion wrote: I used to always feel negative about them, but now I'd say I experience them more neutrally probably because I've trained myself to see them as conditioned phenomena.
Does that make sense?
tiltbillings wrote:Absolutely.danieLion wrote: I used to always feel negative about them, but now I'd say I experience them more neutrally probably because I've trained myself to see them as conditioned phenomena.
Does that make sense?
"These are the six dangers inherent in habitual partying: You constantly seek, 'Where's the dancing? Where's the singing? Where's the music? Where are the stories? Where's the applause? Where's the drumming?'
Before I went to Thailand I’d been very fond of music, I
listened to it all the time. For the first year or so when I was
living in the monastery every time I’d sit down I’d hear music
in my head — continually — until I hated it. But I couldn’t make
it go away. Eventually after about a year and a half of non-stop
noise in my head and fi ghting with it, and gradually cooling
down about it all, it began to die away. By the time I came to
England, my mind had cleared out, like a squeezed sponge.
But then one day I was walking down a street and there was
some music playing and my ear picked it up. I could feel the
experience of consciousness dancing around the music, so
much that it was diffi cult not to start physically dancing. The
mind was gyrating, stimulated by this auditory experience
and the consciousness fl uctuating with it. So I explored; I
listened deliberately and tried to go to what the sound really
was — and when I focussed very strongly on the sound, the
music and the listener stopped!
The music was dependent on a particular mode of
attention whereby consciousness wasn’t held clearly, fi rmly
or incisively onto an object, it was allowed to play on it. The
experience of music was this playing: not an external experience
nor an internal experience but the two coming together.
And I really saw that what one could do something about was
the stirring of consciousness, the stirring of the mind and
moods — when that stopped, the music stopped. There was
still the sound but it was empty, it was hollow. That was very
signifi cant for me because then that was it as far as music went.
I could see that the music was just the movement of the mind.
We can allow that movement to happen if we want to, but its
reality, its ability to grip, fades.