The difference between those who get somewhere in this work and those who do not is rarely talent, and never the possession of secret techniques. It is that some people practice every day and others practice when they feel like it. A modest routine, kept without fail, will change a person. An ambitious one, kept for a fortnight, will change nothing. This page describes a daily form that is small enough to keep and complete enough to matter.
In brief
- Practice at fixed times, in a fixed place, for a fixed and modest length.
- The day has three points: a morning session, a midday recollection and an evening review.
- The week and the month give the practice its larger rhythm.
- Never miss twice. A short session always counts.
Five principles
- Same time, same place. Habit is the ally of the will. A practice tied to an hour and a chair asks for no decision each day, and the place itself begins to quiet the mind.
- Less than you could do. Set the daily amount below what you could manage on a good day, so that you can manage it on a bad one. Twenty minutes is plenty.
- Whole, not fragments. A short practice with a beginning, a middle and an end is better than a long one without a shape.
- Record everything. The diary entry is part of the practice, not an optional extra.
- Change slowly. Keep a form for at least a month before altering it. Novelty feels like progress and usually is not.
The shape of a day
| When | What | Time |
|---|---|---|
| Morning | The rite of the center, then meditation, then the diary | 20 minutes |
| Midday | A pause to recollect yourself and your aim | 1 minute |
| Evening | The review of the day, and a line in the diary | 5 to 10 minutes |
Morning
Practice before the day's business has begun, and if possible before looking at any screen. Wash. Go to your place. Perform the rite of the center, which takes about five minutes once it is known by heart and serves to mark the session off from the rest of the day. Follow it with the meditation exercise you are currently working on, for ten to fifteen minutes. Close the rite, and write the entry.
The morning session sets the key for the day. It is noticeable, on days when it is missed, how much more the day is something that simply happens.
Midday
At noon, or at some fixed point in the middle of the day, stop for one minute. Stand or sit upright. Take four slow breaths. Recall that you are someone engaged in this work, and recall your statement of aim. Then go on with what you were doing.
The older tradition greeted the sun at its four stations of dawn, noon, sunset and midnight. The essence of the custom is this brief return to oneself, which keeps the morning's intention from being buried by the afternoon.
Evening
Before sleep, perform the evening review. Sit quietly and go back over the day from the present moment to the morning, watching what you did and how. Notice in particular whether the day's resolution was kept. Write one or two lines. Then let the day go.
The review closes the day as the rite opened it. Many people find it improves their sleep, since the mind is given its chance to go over the day deliberately instead of doing so at two in the morning.
The shape of a week
The seven days give the practice variety without disorder. A simple way to use them is to let each day's planet color the morning's meditation and suggest one small action, following the planetary days.
| Day | Planet | Theme for the day |
|---|---|---|
| Sunday | Sun | Purpose. Reread your aim and plan the week. |
| Monday | Moon | Receptivity. Record dreams. Attend to home and body. |
| Tuesday | Mars | Effort. Do the hardest task. Take vigorous exercise. |
| Wednesday | Mercury | Study. Read a primary text. Write. |
| Thursday | Jupiter | Generosity. Give something. Look at the larger picture. |
| Friday | Venus | Harmony. Mend a relationship. Make or enjoy something beautiful. |
| Saturday | Saturn | Order. Clean the place of working. Finish what is unfinished. |
Once a week, on a day that suits you, lengthen the morning session to forty minutes, or add a second one for study.
The month and the year
On the last day of each month, read the month's diary through and write a short summary: days practiced, what changed, what recurs, what you will do next. Set the coming month's work, including the meditation exercise and any single theme for study. This monthly review is what turns a habit into a training.
Once a year, on a date that means something to you, read the whole year's record, revise your statement of aim, and decide the outline of the next twelve months. The course of study supplies one such outline.
When it goes wrong
- Missing a day
- It will happen. Write no practice and the reason, and resume the next day without doubling up. The rule is: never miss twice.
- No time
- Keep a minimum form for bad days: four breaths, the statement of aim, one line in the diary. Three minutes done is infinitely more than twenty not done, because it keeps the thread unbroken.
- Dry spells
- Periods when practice is tedious and seems to achieve nothing. These follow the principle of rhythm and arrive on schedule after every advance. Keep the times, expect nothing, and wait. They end.
- Enthusiasm
- The opposite danger. A sudden wish to triple the practice, buy equipment and begin six new exercises. Let it pass without acting on it, and write down the date so that you can observe what follows.
- Travel and illness
- Use the minimum form. When ill, rest. The practice is in the service of life and not the reverse.
- Other people
- If you share a home, be considerate and matter of fact. You need twenty quiet minutes, which is a small thing to ask, and no one needs an explanation of the cosmos before breakfast.
Letting it grow
After six months or a year the daily form will have become as ordinary as washing, and that is the sign of success. Additions then suggest themselves naturally: a longer meditation, a planetary rite on its proper day, a period of work with one of the elements, the systematic study of a text. Add one thing at a time and keep the core unchanged. The measure of a practice is not its richness but how many years it has continued.
Let not sleep fall upon thy eyes till thou hast thrice reviewed the deeds of the day.
The Golden Verses of Pythagoras