Let us Look at the normal content of the Centering Prayer periods. Having assumed a position appropriate for your practice and chosen a symbol of your intention to consent to God's presence, you silently introduce it in your imagination. In the Christian tradition there are two other hallowed ways of expressing in a sacred symbol one's intent to be with God during the time of Centering Prayer. These are the sacred gaze and the sacred breath. The sacred gaze does not make use of visual images. Rather, it is as if you were turning inwardly to look at someone you love without imaging anyone or anything particular. You recall that God is embracing you with an infinitely tender gaze, or that you are resting like the Beloved Disciple on the bosom of Jesus. Likewise, the sacred breath is not a matter of following one's breathing physiologically. It is simply allowing oneself, when thoughts come, to notice one's breathing. Both practices are simply expressions of one's intent. 

In Centering Prayer, the sacred word, gaze, or breath is sacred not because of its inherent meaning, but because of one's intent, which is to open oneself to God and to the divine action within. Of course, it isn't long before thoughts, feelings, and perceptions start coming down the stream of consciousness. A "thought," in the terminology of Centering Prayer, is any perception whatsoever. It is an umbrella term that includes concepts, memories, plans for the future, feelings, sense perceptions, and reflections.

Whenever attractive or negative thoughts come down the stream of consciousness, we return ever so gently to the sacred symbol we have chosen. The interior dialogue that goes on most of the day and night gradually becomes less intense and absorbing during prayer. The period of prayer becomes a vacation from the false self. Following Jesus' suggestion, we leave outside our awareness all the things that normally preoccupy us. As the movement towards interior silence deepens, there is a sense of pervasive resting, of coming home, of peace. This movement, however, is constantly interrupted by the imagination, which runs in perpetual motion. Since we cannot stop the thoughts, we just put up with them.

Thus there are two levels of awareness. One is the ordinary stream of consciousness with unwanted thoughts going by, and the other is the movement to disregard all thoughts by means of returning again and again to the sacred symbol. In the beginning you may be using the sacred symbol virtually nonstop. But after a few months if you do the practice regularly twice a day for a half an hour or so, you may notice an interesting development. You may become aware, without thinking about it, that you are not interested in the particular thoughts that are passing by.

What is to be done when you are aware of thoughts going by for which you feel no attraction or aversion--in other words, for which you have no interest? Treat them like background music at the supermarket. You have come to buy groceries and the music plays on. Since you can't turn it off, you simply disregard it.

Or again, you may be talking with a friend in an apartment above the street with the windows open. If you are absorbed in the conversation, you may not even notice the noise of the traffic. Then suddenly something happens in the street and sirens start wailing. You feel an urge to go to the window to see what is happening. This is the scenario that occurs when one of our emotional programs for happiness is stimulated by an especially attractive or repulsive thought.

If you get up and go to the window to see what is going on, you are obviously leaving your private room. You just have to return and sit down again. It would be so much easier if, instead of following that interesting thought, you were prompt in realizing that this interruption is not appropriate. In both scenarios, some gesture to renew the conversation is needed. In the case of a conversation between friends, you might just look into the eyes of your companion or you might say, "Excuse me. Where were we?" The less you do to renew your intention to be with God (hence the brevity of the sacred word), the more easily you forget the interruption and the more continuity you experience in this subtle conversation with God called communing. God's first language is silence. We have to cultivate interior silence to hear the full message.

Let's say you are faithfully reaffirming your original intent to consent to God's presence and action whenever you are thinking other thoughts by returning ever so gently to your sacred symbol. Because of regular practice, your deeply rooted habits of reflecting begin to relax. You notice that you can easily maintain your awareness of God's presence under normal conditions. As a result, you enter quite quickly into a peaceful and restful state that you can maintain with only the occasional use of your sacred symbol.

Some contemplative preparatory practices emphasize attention of the mind, other practices emphasize attention of the heart. The monastic way emphasizes the latter. Purity of heart was the primary objective of the practices of the desert fathers and mothers. They called contemplation "pure prayer," meaning prayer that is coming from a pure intention where the love of God is predominant. They did not seek for any reward such as consolation or enlightenment, or practice for the sake of motives that have their source in the ego, however devout. In point of fact the ego is not devout at all, though it likes to think it is devout and tries to hide behind a variety of religious facades. The spiritual journey is designed to put to rest these facades. But the false self is incredibly clever. Its desires are "worldly." It wants security, affection and esteem, and power and control, as substitutes for waiting upon God in loving attentiveness.

We can change our address, our hairdo, our state of life, our clothes--anything, and the false self will not object. But as soon as we try to change it, we find ourselves in great conflict. We bring the worldly motivation of the false self into every kind of service, even into prayer. If we once sought to climb the corporate ladder, now in the spiritual life we try to climb the ecclesiastical ladder. But this worldliness is undermined through the development of interior silence. Our ordinary thoughts that reinforce the false self with its desires and aversions are gradually evacuated or laid to rest.

Here we are then, using the sacred symbol to maintain our intention to be with God, when we become aware that we have no interest in the thoughts going by. This is the beginning of the contemplative gifts of the Spirit. God is beginning to answer our basic prayer, "Father, please give me the Holy Spirit." Our will at times is subtly grasped by God. There is a mysterious attraction to interior silence or to the depths of our being. The attraction is like a magnet that draws us into interior silence. At this depth there is a sense that whether we repeat our sacred symbol or not does not matter because we have come to the place where it was meant to guide us. It is like taking a trip to some big city. When you arrive in the city, there is no use buying a ticket to go there.

The sense of God's presence distinguishes this state from mere emptiness or doing nothing. It becomes a state of openness to God that is only occasionally interrupted by an attractive or negative thought passing through. There is no inclination to think of anything, but simply to enjoy the undifferentiated presence of God. At times this presence can become differentiated by a special attraction to the humanity of Jesus or to one of the persons of the Trinity. The spiritual journey is unique to each of us. People have different attractions that help to establish and maintain the growth of interior silence during prayer. The attraction to the center of our being is the awakening to the fact of the divine indwelling. It is not a particular thought, reflection, or feeling, but a sense of being loved or embraced by God. But these experiences are transient and are not the end of the journey. They are ways of orienting us towards what is to come. The Spirit may impart them to some people in great abundance. Others, however, have to live most of the time without them. The main thing everyone can do is the practice. If you do the practice of Centering Prayer regularly, it will do you. There is no substitute for twice a day practice. Talking about it, writing about it, does not do it. Doing it does.

Another level of awareness may open within us after a time. This occurs when the reflective faculties along with the will are more powerfully grasped by God. In this case, God suspends the imagination and memory so they cannot think or reflect. Teresa of Avila reports that in her experience this is quite brief, maybe half an hour at the most. However, one might be in and out of this state in a lengthy period of prayer. A few moments of this grace orientate us powerfully towards divine union. It enormously in creases our motivation and determination to pursue this journey. In this state there is no self-reflection. One cannot reflect on the experience until one comes out of it. There is no "I" to enjoy the experience during the time it perdures. If there is self-reflection, this grace is not full union. When we emerge from the experience, there may be the sense of a gap. You may ask, "Was I asleep?" Probably not, unless you were snoring or dreaming. In any case, it is so surprising that you don't know what to make of it. The "butterfly," to put it in the image used by Teresa of Avila, is beginning to emerge from the cocoon. Her image highlights the fact that we do not turn into a butterfly just by wanting to. We have to be willing to weave the cocoon and to stay there in the darkness until in God's appointed time we emerge from it. Then, instead of continuing to crawl through life, we suddenly realize that we can fly.

The practice of Centering Prayer is a good way of responding to God's incredible invitation. The Lord has said, "If anyone loves me, he will keep my words, and the Father will love him and we will come to him and make our abode in him" (John 14:23). Or a further invitation: "I stand at the door and knock. If anyone opens I will come in and have supper with him and he with me" (Rev. 3:20). To paraphrase, "I will identify completely with you and your life situation." This was the meaning of having a meal with others in the Palestinian culture of the time. This is a great development in our prayer, especially when you think of how many times we pray and nothing happens. What counts is to take oneself in hand and devote oneself faithfully to a practice leading to contemplative prayer as well as practices that will bring its effects into daily life. Whoever works at dismantling the false self is a true follower of Christ.

Continued . . .

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Excerpted from The Better Part by Fr. Thomas Keating

You can obtain a copy by visiting the Contemplative Outreach Bookstore.