In a Bind

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If someone came into my room and found me on the floor, blindfolded, with one arm tied to my shoulder, the other hand raised into the air, both ankles bound, with noise-canceling headphones on, they would probably assume something very strange was happening. Meanwhile, I would be in a blissful state of nothingness, filled with peace and serenity and a great deal of happiness. I wouldn't feel stupid or silly -- no matter how I might look in that moment.

Sensory deprivation is a key part of my meditation practice. The blindfold and noise-canceling headphones have clear purposes, while the bondage limits, though it can’t fully suppress,  my sense of touch. I might also smudge some essential oil directly under my nose, having the same effect that the bondage does, but on my sense of smell rather than touch. This type of meditation can be a time for creativity and problem-solving, allowing me to think through essays or stories without any kind of distraction. It can be both elevating -- bringing me closer to the spirits -- or grounding -- putting me in my body -- depending on my mindset. To borrow a phrase, the three most important words in spirituality are: Intention, Intention, Intention.

This course, obviously, emphasized the importance of deep sensory experience in feeling closeness to the divine, whatever that divine may be. However, my strongest experiences have come in these sightless, soundless, tasteless, somewhat scentless and touch-less moments. It is the things that follow me into the emptiness that I know are part of my reality. My body is still real, the floor is still beneath me, my gods are still with me. I don't believe in them any more (or any less, I suppose) than people believe in trees or tables. I still have not found a way to repress the sixth sense, so perhaps that is why. Maybe in these moments of otherwise senselessness, the sixth sense comes to the fore.


Comments

  1. Jonathan Brumberg-KrausMay 13, 2022 at 6:09 AM

    What a powerful practice, especially in light of all we we've been saying about experiencing things through the senses. Do you think sensory deprivation is also a kind of sensory experience, in the sense (!) that you can't "feel" what it's like to deprive yourself of sensation without having the capacity to sense in the first place? Kind of like what fasting might be to the sense of taste.

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