Contemplative practice can observe what is already happening. It can also introduce something into experience deliberately.
An image can be formed. A movement can be mentally rehearsed. Attention can be directed toward a particular quality. An intention can establish where attention should return when it wanders. In each case, mental activity is being used not simply to observe experience, but to influence its direction.
Imagery is one way of doing this.
Imagine biting into a lemon. The lemon is not there, but the mouth may begin to water. Remember an embarrassing moment and the body may tighten. Imagine lifting an arm without actually moving it and you may notice subtle preparation for movement.
The imagined event is not the actual event. But imagining it is an actual event, and the body can respond.
This is the practical basis for using imagery. It does not depend on pretending something is true when it is not. It does not require believing that imagining an outcome will make the outcome happen. Imagery gives the mind something specific to represent, and that representation can influence attention, sensation, emotion, and movement.
Mental rehearsal is a clear example. Before performing a movement, the movement can be imagined. Its direction, sequence, timing, and coordination can be followed without actually performing it. Contemporary research on motor imagery supports its use in motor learning and performance, although imagined practice does not replace physical practice.
Imagery can also work with qualities rather than actions. A person can imagine the body becoming heavier, lighter, wider, warmer, more rooted, or more open. These images direct attention toward different aspects of experience. An image of weight settling downward organizes attention differently from an image of the body rising upward. An image of space around a constricted area directs attention differently from concentrating on the constriction itself.
Traditional contemplative practices have used imagery in many forms, sometimes within systems of understanding very different from contemporary accounts of mental imagery. Those traditional explanations should not be reduced to modern psychology or physiology. The practical point here is simpler: an image can give attention and experience a direction.
Intention does something related without requiring a mental image.
An intention establishes what the person means to do. Someone sitting quietly may intend to notice thoughts without following every one of them. Someone walking may intend to notice unnecessary muscular effort. Someone entering a difficult conversation may intend to listen fully before answering.
The intention does not need to remain in the foreground every second. It establishes a direction to return to.
This is much like the attentional training discussed earlier. Attention wanders, and we return it. An intention tells us what we are returning to. If the intention is to notice unnecessary effort, we eventually realize that the shoulders have tightened and the jaw is clenched. That recognition allows the original direction to be taken up again.
Intention is therefore different from trying to control every moment of experience.
That distinction matters. Imagery and intention can both become overworked. Someone trying to create warmth may continually check whether warmth has appeared. Someone intending to remain calm may monitor every sign of agitation. Someone mentally rehearsing a movement may become so concerned with performing it correctly that the rehearsal creates more tension than clarity.
The mental direction has then become another demand.
Imagery and intention work best as influences, not commands. The image presents a quality, movement, or orientation. The intention establishes a direction. Neither determines what must happen next.
What happens next still has to be observed.
An image of heaviness may feel settling, or it may feel oppressive. Imagining expansion may create a sense of space, or it may feel uncomfortable. An intention to observe thoughts may make their movement clearer, or it may turn into constant monitoring. Mental rehearsal may clarify a movement, or it may make someone more self-conscious about it.
The intended effect is not the actual effect until the person’s response shows us what happened.
That keeps imagery and intention within the same practical logic as the rest of this work. We introduce an influence, observe the direction in which the person moves, and learn from the response.
Observation asks:
What is happening?
Imagery and intention ask:
What happens when we deliberately give experience a direction?