Czikszentmihalyi is a fine writer, so I'll sum up the basics of flow theory with his own words (these passages are patched together from two of his books: The Evolving Self and Creativity):

******************************************************************************************************************

Over and over again, as people describe how it feels when they thoroughly enjoy themselves, they mention [nine] distinct dimensions of experience. These same aspects are reported by Hindu yogis and Japanese teenagers who race motorcycles, by American surgeons and basketball players, by Australian sailors and Navajo shepherds, by champion figure skaters and by chess masters. These are the characteristic dimensions of the flow experience:

1. There are clear goals every step of the way. In contrast to what happens in everyday life, on the job or at home, where often there are contradictory demands and our purpose is unsure, in flow we always know what needs to be done. The musician knows what notes to play next, the rock climber knows the next moves to make. When a job is enjoyable it also has clear goals: The surgeon is aware of how the incision should proceed, moment by moment: the farmer has a plan for how to carry out the planting.

2. There is immediate feedback to one's action; Again, in contrast to the usual state of affairs, in a flow experience we know how well we are doing. The musician hears right away whether the note played is the one. The rock climber finds out immediately whether the move was correct because he or she is still hanging in there and hasn't fallen to the bottom of the valley. The surgeon sees there is no blood in the cavity, and the farmer sees the furrows lining up neatly in the field. [Czikszentmihalyi does observe that part of growing up is being able to have longer feedback loops in one's flow, developing the patience and persistence needed to enjoy more complex undertakings. In gardening and parenting, for example, you have to observe your progeny over time to get a sense of the results of your efforts.]

3. There is a balance between challenges and skills. In flow, we feel that our abilities are well matched to the opportunities for action. In everyday life we sometimes feel that the challenges are too high in relation to our skills, and then we feel frustrated and anxious. Or we feel that our potential is greater than the opportunities to express it, and then we feel bored. Playing tennis or chess against a much better opponent leads to frustration; against a much weaker opponent, to boredom. In a really enjoyable game, the players are balanced on the fine line between boredom and anxiety. The same is true when work, or a conversation, or a relationship is going well.

4. Action and awareness are merged. It is typical of everyday experience that our minds are disjointed from what we do. Sitting in class, students may appear to be paying attention to the teacher, but they are actually thinking about lunch, or last night's date. The worker thinks about the weekend; the mother cleaning house is worried about her child; the golfer's mind is preoccupied with how his swing looks to his friends. In flow, however, our concentration is focused on what we do. One-pointedness of mind is required by the close match between challenges and skills, and it is made possible by the clarity of goals and the constant availability of feedback.

5. Distractions are excluded from consciousness. Another typical element of flow is that we are aware only of what is relevant here and now. If the musician thinks of his health or tax problems when playing, he is likely to hit a wrong note. If the surgeon's mind wanders during an operation, the patient's life is in danger. Flow is the result of intense concentration on the present, which relieves us of the usual fears that cause depression and anxiety in everyday life.

6. There is no worry of failure. While in flow, we are too involved to be concerned with failure. Some people describe it as a feeling of total control; but actually we are not in control, it's just that the issue does not even come up. If it did, we would not be concentrating totally, because our attention would be split between what we did and the feeling of control. The reason that failure is not an issue is that in flow it is clear what has to be done, and our skills are potentially adequate to the challenges.

7. Self Consciousness disappears. In everyday life, we are always monitoring how we appear to other people; we are on the alert to defend ourselves from potential slights and anxious to make a favorable impression. Typically this awareness of self is a burden. In flow we are too involved in what we are doing to care about protecting the ego. Yet after an episode of flow is over we generally emerge from it with a stronger self-concept; we know that we have succeeded in meeting a difficult challenge. We might even feel that we have stepped out of the boundaries of the ego and have become part, at least temporarily, of a larger entity. The musician feels at one with the harmony of the cosmos, the athlete moves at one with the team, the reader of a novel lives for a few hours in a different reality. Paradoxically, the self expands through acts of self-forgetfulness.

8. The sense of time becomes distorted. Generally in flow we forget time, and hours may pass by in what seem like a few minutes. Or the opposite happens: A figure skater may report that a quick turn that in real time takes only a second seems to stretch out for ten times as long. In other words, clock time no longer marks equal lengths of experienced time; our sense of how much time passes depends on what we are doing.

9. Experience becomes autotelic. When most of these conditions are present, we begin to enjoy whatever it is that produces such an experience. I may be scared of using a computer and learn to do it only because my job depends on it. But as my skills increase, and I recognize what the computer allows me to do, I may begin to enjoy using the computer for its own sake as well. At this point the activity becomes autotelic, which is Greek for something that is an end in itself. Some activities such as art, music, and sports are usually autotelic: There is no reason for doing them except to feel the experience they provide. Most things in life are exotelic. We do them not because we enjoy them but in order to get to some later goal. And some activities are both: the violinist gets paid for playing, the surgeon gets status and good money for operating, as well as getting enjoyment for doing what they do. In many ways, the secret to a happy life is to learn to get flow from as many of the things we have to do as is possible. If work and family life become autotelic, them there is nothing wasted in life, and everything we do is worth doing for its own sake.

**************************************************************************************

So, we have a biological need for flow, just as we need food and water and intimacy. As with these other needs, there are healthy and unhealthy ways of meeting our needs for flow. There's junk flow and wholesome flow. There's the flow of playing video games and the flow of practicing yoga. In addition, flow can be harnessed by good or evil. There's the flow of belonging to a neo-nazi movement and the flow of working with Habitat for Humanity.

The juiciest implications of Czikszentmihalyi's work emerge from his exploration of how one lives the "autotelic" life and develops a "flow personality".  This passage from The Evolving Self  illuminateas the "inner" and "outer" dimensions of flow:

This state of consciousness [flow], which comes as close as anything can to what we call happiness, depends on two sets of conditions. The first is external. Certain activities are more likely to produce flow than others because (1) they have concrete goals and manageable rules, (2) they make it possible to adjust opportunities for action to our capacities, (3) they provide clear information about how well we are doing, and (4) they screen out distractions and make concentration possible. Games, artistic performances, and religious rituals are good examples of such "flow activities". But one of the most important findings of our studies has been that any activity can produce the optimal flow experience, as long as it meets the above requirements. Physicians describe doing surgery as an addictive "body-contact sport" similar to sailing or skiing; computer programmers often can't tear themselves away from their keyboards. In fact, people seem to get more flow from what they do on the job than from leisure activities in free time.

The second set of conditions that allows flow to happen is internal to the person. Some people have an uncanny ability to [do the following:]

-match their skills to the opportunities around them.

-They set manageable goals for themselves even when there does not seem to be anything for them to do.

-They are good at reading feedback that others fail to notice.

-They can concentrate easily and do not get distracted.

-They are not afraid of losing their self, so their ego can slip easily out of awareness.

Persons who have learned to control consciousness in these ways have a "flow personality". They do not need to play in order to be in flow; they can be happy even as they work on an assembly line or are languishing in solitary confinement.

In addition to these elements, there is a larger perspective needed to create an autotelic life:

....It is difficult to build a happy life by the simple addition of flow experiences. The whole in this case is definitely more than the sum of its parts. An artist may paint for decades and love every minute of it, yet become depressed and hopeless in middle age. A tennis pro who enjoyed most of his career could end up disillusioned and bitter. To transform the entirety of life into a unified flow experience, it helps to have faith in a system of meanings that gives purpose to one's being.

...The thesis of this book is that becoming an active, conscious part of the evolutionary process is the best way to give meaning to our lives at the present point in time, and to enjoy each moment along the way. Understanding how evolution works and what role we may play in it, provides a direction and purpose that otherwise is lacking in this secular, desacralized culture. It does not mean that we must give up personal goals and subordinate them to some long-range universal good. In fact, the opposite is true. Individuals who develop to the fullest their uniqueness, yet at the same time identify with the larger processes at work in the cosmos, escape the loneliness of their individual destinies. And in addition, as I hope to show, history-making is more gratifying than being swept along by it passively.

All very well and good, but how does one go about "participating in the evolutionary process"? Harnessing flow to realize a more enlightened society is a lovely idea but not an easy one to realize. To better grasp the nature of this project let's examine "systems of meanings" and the art of cultivating a "flow personality" in the context of the Buddhist worldview and practice.

First let's clarify what a  "systems of meaning" is. A system of meaning is the same thing as a "mythology" in the sense elucidated by Alan Watts: "We all have our various mythologies. And I don't mean when I say the word "mythology," or "myth," something that is false in the popular sense. By myth I mean an idea or an image in terms of which people make sense of the world." Without a mythology that gives a focus and framework to make sense of our experiences, human beings would be overwhelmed and bewildered by the barrage of sensory input and inner impulses that make up our moment to moment existence. There's countless mythologies at play in the world: communism, capitalism, Islam, hedonism, Christianity, etc. Each of these mythologies impart a sense of life's purpose that the "believer" uses to make choices and set priorities in day to day life. Most human beings absorb the dominant mythology of the culture they're raised in without questioning it. Evolutionary activists need to take a more deliberate approach to their mythologies. (The popular question among Christians: "what would Jesus do?" is a good example of how a mythology can clarify difficult choices in life. In a similar vein, a stock broker may ask "What would Warren Buffet do?")

So, Buddhism and the practice of meditation can be examined as a classic example of a mythology/system of meaning joined with a "method" for develop a flow personality and, ultimately, a society that generates megawatts of wholesome flow for the benefit of all sentient beings.

The mythology of Buddhism is rich, subtle and varies in different times and cultures. I apologize in advance for any distortions I make in this thumbnail sketch.

The Buddhist worldview sees human nature as fundamentally noble. The human being who has awakened to her true nature (her "Buddha-nature") embodies compassion, penetrating insight, courage and equanimity. The term "buddha" means literally "one who is awake". (The ideal of the enlightened being is very close to Czikszentmihalyi's "flow personality": a person who is fully present in the moment, without self-centered preoccupations, even in dire circumstances.) Cultivating one's own awakening is seen as the most worthwhile activity one can prioritize in one's life. In addition, Buddhism states that there are specific laws or patterns that shape our existence and experience. Awakening is, in part, a matter of discerning these patterns, accepting and working with them ("going with the flow"). In the Buddhist worldview, all experiences, even traumatic ones, can be used as opportunities for cultivating awakening. The art of meditation is taught as a discipline for developing one's Buddha-hood. Finally, Buddhist mythology describes the entire cosmos as evolving towards universal enlightenment. Thus, Zen practitioners make a vow to aid in the enlightenment of all sentient beings, unto the last blade of grass.

"Believing" in this mythology does not automatically give a person a Flow personality. It does strengthen one's resolve for the often arduous journey to awakening.

OK, with this framework, let's examine the art of meditation through the lens of flow- reviewing the elements that make up the flow experience and relating them to the discipline of meditation. ( My comments here are primarily apropos of Vipassana or "Insight" meditation, a form I've long practiced.)

CLEAR GOALS. Some meditation purists might claim that meditation is about goal-lessness- what J. Krishnamurti called "choiceless awareness". A famous Zen saying goes: "The way is not difficult for those who have no preferences". In meditation one practices letting go of desires, attachments and aversions. However, practicing choiceless awareness is a choice in itself. (A very difficult choice that must be made repeatedly, as any meditator will attest.) In practice, to be free of goals is a goal in itself. Most forms of meditation involve explicit goals. In Insight meditation, for example, one has a goal of focusing awareness in the present moment, with a particular focus on the specific sensations of the rise and fall of the breath. To realize this goal, a meditator needs to work with the additional goal of letting go of worries, judgments, memories, and other mind waves that continually hook our attention. The goal is not to reject the contents of consciousness but to observe them without attachment or aversion.

OPPORTUNITIES TO ACT ON THOSE GOALS. The meditator has ample opportunities to act upon these goals. In every waking moment, the breath's ebb and flow is there to be noticed. Likewise, the act of letting go of attachments to thoughts and feelings can be practiced again and again. The experience of letting go often has a very distinct (and pleasant) sensation. The big challenge in meditation is remembering that one has this goal! It's such a subtle game, it's easy to forget we're playing. Would-be meditators often complain that meditation is dull.. This can be true at first, just as many artistic disciplines (learning to play the fiddle, calculus) are difficult to get into. Meditation teacher Jack Kornfield writes: "Initially we may have to struggle to focus, trying to hold on to the subject of our meditation. Then gradually the mind and the heart become eased from distractions.....This is like beginning to read a book. When we start, we will often be interrupted by many distractions around us. But if it is a good book, perhaps a mystery novel, by the last chapter we will be so absorbed in the plot that people can walk right by us and we will not notice them. In meditation at first, thoughts carry us away and we think them for a long time. Then, as concentration grows we remember our breath in the middle of a thought. Later we can notice thoughts just as they arise or allow them to pass in the background, so focused on the breath that we are undisturbed by their movement." A skillful meditation teacher can communicate the fascinating and adventurous dimensions of the meditative journey. If that vision is conveyed, the beginning meditator is more able to remember and practice meditation's moment to moment goals. Developing this ability to sustain subtle goals is a key aspect to manifesting a Flow Personality.

CLEAR PERFORMANCE FEEDBACK: The game of meditation offers plenty of feedback if we can remember to look for it. The experience of being focused, grounded in the moment is quite noticeable and distinct from being distracted, preoccupied or alienated. In a flowing meditation experience one has a willingness to engage with "what is", to focus wholeheartedly on whatever the moment offers. Meditative practice involves persistently awakening ourselves from the mind's seductive storylines and running commentary. At first in meditation, when the mind's storyline captures awareness, we do not remember to look for the feedback. We forget about the goal of being fully in the moment. Obviously, if you forget you have a goal, you forget to look for feedback on your efforts to realize that goal. Meditation provides an opportunity to develop one's capacity to notice subtle feedback.

ACTION AND AWARENESS ARE MERGED. The Zen tradition is known for its strong emphasis on "merging" with whatever activity one is involved in: "becoming one" with the act of sweeping a sidewalk or drinking a cup of tea. Other spiritual traditions speak eloquently about the union of the do-er and the deed, the observer and observed. These are different ways of describing the merging of action and awareness. This union is said to be an essential mark of enlightenment. For most of us, realizing such oneness in meditation (and numerous other activities) is difficult. Cultivating wholehearted presence with the ordinary miracle of the ebb and flow of the breath is difficult. It's much easier to realize this delicious union of do-er and deed with the aid of "props": dance, music, sports, crafts. Still, the "austerity" of the practice of sitting meditation has its benefits. It helps us learn how to be in that state of focused union without the aid of external props, an essential attribute of the Flow Personality.

DISTRACTIONS ARE EXCLUDED FROM CONSCIOUSNESS. This attribute of flow brings us deeper into the challenge of meditation. If the goal is to be fully aware in the moment, (i.e., grounded in the physical sensation of breathing,) and our deeply ingrained tendency is to be caught up in the endless chatter in our heads, the meditator is constantly struggling with distractions. Some meditative traditions use  like mantras or mandalas to concentrate the mind and exclude distractions.The game is made trickier in Vipassana meditation because we are not given any substitute against the seductive thoughts that distract us from the miracle of the moment. We are instructed to welcome the full range of thoughts and impulses, neither clinging to them or rejecting them, letting them pass through the mind like clouds pass through the sky...  Vipassana practice is a bit like standing in the midst of a carnival, attempting to be aware of the hurly burly all around us but not caught up in it, watching it like an anthropologist: "In the world but not of the world". Perhaps we could say that in a flowing Vipassana experience, potential distractions are experienced as beautiful currents in the river of Mind. We can observe these currents while remaining free of the compulsion to be carried away by them. A difficult accomplishment, but well worth the effort!

THERE'S NO WORRY OF FAILURE. Freedom from fear of failure is a crucial aspect of the Flow personality. Worry of failure, defeat, humiliation, pain or disappointment: these are at the root of so much of our misery and self-preoccupation. With these worries comes our resistances, defensiveness, hesitancy, second guessing. With this fear comes the need for the security of certainty. Our innate curiosity and wonder wanes. Worry and fear are the great killers of Flow. So, how does meditation overcome the ubiquitous human tendency to fear failure? It may seem that in meditation there's little cause to be worried about failing: after all, no one can see what's happening on our playing field! Still, it's common for meditators to worry whether they're doing it right, especially if they receive vague or inadequate instruction. In addition, worries are one of the main waves of mind that the aspiring meditator gets caught up in. Sitting in silent meditation, we are bereft of the props that usually keep us occupied: TV, work, gossip and the myriad other diversions we use to keep our worries or fears at bay. This gives ample opportunity to develop a more conscious relationship to fear and worry. If we can befriend fear and worry, accept them as a natural part of life instead of trying to fix or avoid them, then they become less oppressive, more like traveling companions.

When a person's practice is rooted in faith in an overarching vision of life, they're much more able to manifest this freedom from worry. Buddhism sees Life unfolding towards universal enlightenment.  This unfolding can be furthered in even the worst of circumstances. A Tibetan story exemplifies this attitude:

An old Lama in a mountain monastery was nearing his death. One of the monks came to him and said: "Master, we want you to know that the whole monastery is praying that you be reborn in the highest heaven."

"Don't pray for that!" he exclaimed. "Pray that I be reborn in Hell."

The student was shocked. "Why would we pray for that? You are such a kind and compassionate soul. You do not belong in hell!"

The master replied: "But where else are kindness and compassion more needed that in hell?"

For this lama, transforming suffering into awakening was the most exciting game imaginable! With an attitude like this, it's not so hard to practice one of the secrets of success: acting as if failure is impossible. With such faith one can embrace Buckminister Fuller's assertion that: "the only failure in life is the failure to participate."

For many of us postmodern mongrels, a simple religious faith such as sustained the pilgrims and true believers of old is not possible. But there is also an "existential" faith that anyone can cultivate. In her book Everyday Zen, Zen teacher Joko Beck writes: "There is one thing in life that you can always rely on: life being as it is. Let's talk more concretely. Suppose there is something I want very much: perhaps I want to marry a certain person, or get an advanced degree or have my child be happy and healthy. But life as it is might be exactly the opposite of what I want. We don't know that we'll marry that certain person. If we do , he might die tomorrow, We may or may not get our advanced degree. Probably we will but we can't count on that . We can't count on anything. Life is always going to be the way it is. So why can't we rely on that fact? What is so hard about that? Why are we always uneasy? Suppose your living space has just been demolished by an earthquake, and you are about to lose an arm and all your life's savings. Can you then rely on life just as it is? Can you be that?

Trust in things being as they are is the secret of life. But we don't want to hear that. I can absolutely trust that in the next year my life is going to be changed, different, yet always just the way it is. If tomorrow I have a heart attack, I can rely on that, because if I have it, I have it. I can rest in life as it is.

When we make a personal investment in our thoughts, we create the "I" (as Krishnamurti would say), and then our life begins not to work.

Having faith in things "being as they are" may sound wise, but in practice it's a difficult path to walk. Thus meditation is generally acknowledged to be a lifetime's journey.

SELF CONSCIOUSNESS DISAPPEARS. As I said, letting go of the self is described in Buddhism as a mark of liberation. Perhaps a more precise description here would be to say that "self-preoccupation disappears". When I'm self-preoccupied, I'm caught up in thinking about my little storyline and clinging to my defenses and addictions. I have little spare attention to give to circumstances or people around me. This quality is a great impediment to clear seeing and intimacy. Thus Tibetan teacher Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche said: If you vanquish the ego clinging today, you will be enlightened before the day is over. If you vanquish it tomorrow, you will be enlightened tomorrow. But if you never vanquish it, you will never be enlightened. (It seems to me that an enlightened person would be one who can Flow with any experience that life tosses to them...) Here's a wonderful evocation of freedom from self preoccupation made by G.B. Shaw: "This is the true joy of life, the being used up by a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; being a force of nature instead of a feverish selfish little clod of ailments and grievances, complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy. I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the community and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can."

Again, the delicious dropping away of self preoccupation can happen in diverse contexts: skiing, brain surgery, knitting or sex. Through meditation one can develop the ability to keep the ego "in its place" throughout the ups and downs of day to day life.

THE SENSE OF TIME BECOMES DISTORTED. Meditators might quibble with the term "distorted". It could just as easily be said that our normal sense of time is a distortion and that the timeless "now" of the flow experience is a more accurate reflection of reality. In any case, meditation is very much a matter of practicing timelessness, of dwelling fully in the moment.

EXPERIENCE BECOMES AUTOTELIC. Vietnamese Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh has made the observation that we live most fully when we "Wash the dishes to wash the dishes", i.e. when we can undertake each "mundane" act in our days with a sense of wonder and of the preciousness of each moment. This is the ultimate autotelic perspective. Meditation practice offers the opportunity to cultivate such an attitude towards the simple, ever present miracle of breathing. If one can utilize awareness of the breath as a doorway to ecstasy/flow, the breath becomes a constant touchstone for autotelic living.

Let me toss in another metaphor here: meditation is a sort of surfing: surfing the waves of consciousness. Surfing is a classic flow activity: The goal is clear- to ride the wave. The opportunities for action are great, assuming you are at a suitable beach. The performance feedback is abundant- lose your balance, wipe out. Stay on the wave, experience adrenaline euphoria. When surfing, action and awareness are merged; distractions drop away, and so on. Think of meditation as a way of surfing on the ocean of consciousness. The waves of this ocean are the thoughts and emotions that continually pass through one's awareness. Sometimes we surf them, sometimes we get pulled along after them, like getting caught in a rip tide. Sailing provides an even more precise metaphor. We can talk about the art of setting your sail to take you where you want to go, even when the wind seems to want to push you in another direction. A skillful meditator can use emotional storms of jealousy or fear and ride them to his or her own ends. Rather that being haplessly swept away by these emotional winds, the meditator learns to harness them skillfully, transmuting fear into excitement and interest, anger into compassion.

So there you have it: sitting meditation as a time tested practice for developing the skills that make up a flow personality.

Having said all this, the fact remains that traditional sitting meditation is, for many human lives and temperments too austere, solitary and subtle a practice to be a suitableapproach to developing a Flow personality. We need more widely accessible vehicles for developing Flow personalities! The fate of humanity rests upon this project, for only through the liberation of aliveness and creativity that accompanies the Flow state can we navigate the turbulent evolutionary rapids we find ourselves riding. There's a saying in Buddhism: "Dharma Gates [i.e. gateways to a truer understanding of life] are infinite. I vow to master them." In other words, there's countless ways to develop a more profound relationship with life. Some are practical only in limited situations, others are more universally accessible and applicable. For many years I've beeen exploring avenues for cultivating flow and disseminate the game of awakeningWhat are some approaches to developing a flow personality that are more "hands-on", interactive and graspable?

I've been excited of late about teaching collaborative juggling as an interactive meditation in action. Some cohorts and I are developing juggling as a laboratory and gymnasium for developing flow personalities. Juggling is naturally conducive to the experience of Flow. We're exploring translating the insights into Flow that we gain through juggling into other realms of our life. For more details on this project, read my essay, Juggling and the Healing Carnival.
To find out more about Flow on the Internet, check out the Flow Network at http://www.flownetwork.com