All ideas emerge from our thoughts and experiences. The invention of our flagship product, the Cosmic Cushion, developed quite organically in that way.
Like many children of the 60’s, I had dabbled with meditation, but never in a very disciplined way, so I made the decision to attend a weekend workshop on Tibetan mindfulness meditation to try to firm up my knowledge on the subject. During Tibetan meditation the participant sits on a rectangular cushion. It’s firm and roughly 6 inches high and wide enough to accommodate your sit bones and then some. You squarely on top of the cushion, but towards the front so that your feet, ankles and knees are resting on the floor just in front of you. Below the cushion is a square, cotton batting mat called a zabuton meant to pad your feet and knees from the direct contact with the floor below.
We were instructed to sit with eyes almost closed, gazing downcast toward the floor in front of us and holding a soft focus. We imagined our heads suspended above our shoulders as if suspended from an imaginary cord that held our spines upright with our arms hanging loosely from our shoulders, our hands cradled in our laps with the fingers intertwined and the tips of our thumbs lightly touching.
We were asked to take note of our surroundings – the temperature of the room, the feel of the air against our skin, the sounds of cars passing by on the street below, and then to turn inward letting go of our lives outside of the room. To clear our minds, we should start by focusing on each breath as it moves in and out of our nostrils. Another important instruction: become aware of our thoughts as they arose in our consciousness and simply take note of them while not giving additional mental energy, maybe label it silently as “thinking”, and gently, patiently redirect our focus back to our breath. We were to do this whenever we became aware our attention had attached to a thought, an emotion, a sound, or a feeling, especially any bodily discomfort. Straightforward, simple instructions. Nowhere to go, nothing to do. Follow the breath. Remain alertly upright.
For beginning meditators, bodily comfort ranks high on the list of what captures our attention as we sit. I did my best to stay focused on my breathing and to adopt a stable posture, but truth be told, bodily discomfort kept looming large and frequent in my consciousness throughout the weekend. The workshop ended Sunday afternoon. By Monday morning the tops of my thighs where they met with my torso were very sore. These muscles were not used to holding myself upright for the many hours we sat each day. Much of the time I had felt the need to counterbalance the tendency of my weight to send me toppling over backwards off my cushion by pulling forward with those same muscles. The tendons that arose from the top of each thigh and attached to my hip bones were now excruciatingly tender and cried out with each lifting of my legs. Even walking slowly across my kitchen floor, I was hobbling and limping. Two or three days later the pain subsided, but I was left with a strong desire to find a more comfortable way to sit. At least I hadn’t given up altogether!