Dr. Jay Forrest

Anyone who meditates will quickly meet the wandering mind. Thoughts jump from one thing to another, and at first this can feel frustrating. But it is completely normal.

The first step is to focus on the breath. You can notice the breath at the nostrils or the rise and fall of the abdomen. To help steady attention, silently note “in” and “out,” or “rising” and “falling.” When thoughts, feelings, or sounds pull you away, gently note what has appeared—“thinking,” “feeling,” or “hearing”—and then return to the breath.

If you simply zone out, that is not mindfulness. Meditation is not about drifting into blankness, but about staying awake and aware. If the mind remains restless, try counting the breath from one to ten and begin again whenever you lose track.

The goal is not to fight the mind, but to train it. Each time you return to the breath, you strengthen concentration and mindfulness. Be patient. Progress comes slowly, but with steady practice, the wandering mind becomes easier to work with.

Deism, as defined by Dr. Michael Arnheim, is the “Belief in an impersonal creator God who does not get involved in the day-to-day affairs of the world” (1).

I describe my spiritual path as Zen Deism. For me, it’s a natural blending of contemplative practice with the Deist commitment to reason, observation, and a non-personal understanding of the divine. Instead of following a revealed deity or a fixed religious system, I orient myself toward what I call the Transpersonal Rational Ground of Being. This is not a god who speaks through scriptures or institutions.

I am not drawn to rigid dogma or religious authority. I know how much I don’t know. Zen Deism gives me room to breathe. It lets me explore spirituality without surrendering my intellect or my direct experience. My practice centers on personal transformation, ethical living, and a mindful connection to God—not on creeds or rituals.

General Perspective

At the heart of my path are a few general thoughts:

• Rational Spirituality: My authority is reason, science, and personal experience.
• No Bible: I don’t accept any scripture as exclusive truth. I treat them as human books by human authors, containing truth, error, and ignorance – like all other human works.
• Contemplative Practice: I daily practice mindfulness meditation, cultivating mindfulness and a direct sense of connection with God.
• The Ground of Being: I experience the divine not as a person but as the Impersonal Rational Ground of Being. I don’t worship it; I encounter it within.
• Ethical Living: Benevolence, compassion, and integrity are my ethical goals. Living mindfully is how I awaken to deeper wisdom.
• Spiritual but Not Religious: I draw inspiration from many traditions – Buddhism, Stoicism, Daoism, and certain mystics, as well as philosophy and psychology – without belonging to any institution. My spirituality is lived, not inherited.

Learn, Don’t Cling

Zen Deism also helps me understand what my path is not. It isn’t traditional religion; there’s no clergy, no temple, no dogma. My personal motto is: Learn from all, but cling to none.

Zen Deism isn’t pure Deism, because I don’t stop at intellectual belief. I also cultivate a spirituality that includes a sense of cosmic consciousness, a feeling of awe in nature, and a deep connection to the present moment. I freely acknowledge the Divine in the various religious traditions.

In the end, Zen Deism feels like a form of rational mysticism. It’s a way for me to explore who I am, what reality is, and how I relate to God and the universe. Through disciplined awareness and mindful presence, I walk a contemplative path that feels honest, grounded, and deeply alive.

Albert Einstein Quote

“I am not an atheist. I do not know if I can define myself as a pantheist. The problem involved is too vast for our limited minds. We are in the position of a little child entering a huge library whose walls are covered to the ceiling with books in many different tongues. The child knows that someone must have written those books. It does not know who or how. It does not understand the languages in which they are written. The child notes a definite plan in the arrangement of the books—a mysterious order, which it does not comprehend, but only dimly suspects. That, it seems to me, is the attitude of even the most intelligent human being toward God. We see a universe marvelously arranged, obeying certain laws, but only dimly understand these laws. Our limited minds grasp the mysterious force that sways the constellations” (2).

Charles Darwin Quote

“There seems to me too much misery in the world. I cannot persuade myself that a beneficent and omnipotent God would have designedly created the Ichneumonidae with the express intention of their feeding within the living bodies of Caterpillars, or that a cat should play with mice. Not believing this, I see no necessity in the belief that the eye was expressly designed. On the other hand, I cannot anyhow be contented to view this wonderful universe, and especially the state of man, and to conclude that everything is the result of brute force. I am inclined to look at everything as resulting from designed laws, with the details, whether good or bad, left to the working out of what we may call Chance. Not that this notion at all satisfies me. I feel most deeply that the whole subject is too profound for the human intellect. A dog might as well speculate on the mind of Newton” (3).

Endnotes

1. Michael Arnheim, Is Christianity True? (Buffalo, NY: Prometheus Books, 1984), 20.
2. Albert Einstein, interview with George Sylvester Viereck, Glimpses of the Great (New York: Macaulay, 1930). Emphasis added.
3. Charles Darwin, letter to Asa Gray, May 22, 1860, in The Life and Letters of Charles Darwin, ed. Francis Darwin (London: John Murray, 1887), 312. Emphasis added.

Buddhist meditation is often presented in two complementary forms: Tranquility (Samatha) and Insight (Vipassana). Together, they form a complete path of mental development.

Tranquility Meditation cultivates calm, stability, and one-pointed concentration. By focusing on a single object—commonly the breath—the mind becomes quiet and unified. This practice can lead to deep states of concentration known as jhanas, where thinking subsides and stillness prevails. While central to Buddhism, forms of concentration meditation also appear in other traditions, showing its universal effectiveness in calming the mind.

Insight Meditation, by contrast, aims at clear seeing. Rather than stilling the mind alone, it observes experience with precision and detachment. Through careful attention to body, feelings, and mental states, one begins to perceive impermanence, unsatisfactoriness, and the absence of a fixed self. This penetrative awareness is what leads to genuine understanding.

These two forms should not be separated. Concentration stabilizes the mind so that insight can arise without distortion. Insight, in turn, gives direction and depth to concentration. Gotama emphasized mindfulness as the direct path to liberation, and mindfulness emerges from the integration of both.

Like two wings of a bird, tranquility and insight must function together for the path to fully unfold.

Meditation begins with a stable, comfortable posture. Sit on a chair or on the floor with your back straight, hands resting in your lap, and your eyes gently closed. If sitting is difficult, lying down on a firm surface is acceptable, though it may make sleep more likely.

Next, relax. Do not force anything. Begin with just 5 or 10 minutes a day, and treat wandering thoughts with patience rather than frustration. Relaxation is the starting point for mindfulness.

Then focus on the breath. Notice the breath at the nostrils or the rise and fall of the abdomen. You can silently note “in” and “out,” or “rising” and “falling.” When the mind drifts, gently note “thinking” or “feeling,” then return to the breath.

The key is simple: observe without chasing, resisting, or judging. You are learning to watch the mind clearly, like a scientist observing an experiment. With practice, this becomes the foundation for deeper meditation and insight.

One of the things many people don’t understand is that waiting around to get motivated never works. Motivation happens in the doing, not in the planning.

Once we understand that motivation follows action, we see that the moment we start doing something, we become more inclined to continue it. A body in motion stays in motion.

The real difficulty lies in beginning. It’s hard to start an action, but much easier to continue once it has begun. I once heard a simple trick for getting started.

It may not make much sense and might even seem silly, but I’ve tried it and it works. When you’re about to do something and don’t feel motivated, begin a countdown: five, four, three, two, one—blast off. The moment you say “blast off,” get up and act.

We are told that people suffer from low self-esteem, that they secretly hate themselves. This doctrine sounds compassionate, but it is rarely examined.

Consider what is actually happening. A person fails and feels shame, frustration, even disgust. This is labeled “self-hatred.” But if someone truly hated themselves, failure would not wound them—it would satisfy them. They would celebrate the downfall of their hated enemy, not mourn it. The pain reveals something else entirely: pride. What is wounded is not the self, but the exalted image of the self.

So-called self-hatred is better understood as injured self-love. It is the collapse of an inflated self-concept—the sense that “I am better than this,” “I should be more than this,” “I am someone.” When reality contradicts that image, the result is not hatred, but humiliation.

What is required is not more self-love, but less self-concern. To “forget oneself” does not mean neglect or indifference. It means releasing the demand to be exceptional, coherent, and admirable. It means seeing clearly: this organism is conditioned, limited, and inconsistent. It will fail. It will fall short. Where self-esteem seeks to elevate the self, self-acceptance dissolves the need to.