Meditation -- on.

I've been interested in the concept of meditation for years. I've never managed to get really into it thus far because I don't think I'm the type of person who can do such things by themselves. I have zero focus, really, unless someone is standing there, asking it of me. I learn best in a classroom, essentially.

Along the same lines as meditation, I've recently been working at "clearing my mind." I often find my mind racing from one subject to the next, and sometimes it's just really obnoxious. So my question is, how does one clear the mind? What is a clear mind like? It seems as though the entire concept would, at some point, fall back on itself. If you're focused on clearing your mind, aren't you still going to be thinking of something; namely, whether or not your mind is clear?

Am I merely misunderstanding the concept of a clear mind? I have to admit that sometimes I think I catch it, if only for an instant. This morning, for example, on my way to work, I tried to think of nothing but my breath, coming in for four steps, going out for four. And for a few minutes, that felt pretty great, and I wasn't really thinking about anything else. Is that the clear-mindedness aspired to by yoga practitioners?

I suppose that the point of it is that it is something to be practiced and I should just keep at it. I am mostly unsure of whether or not I'm doing it right. Perhaps it's all just ridiculous. Life being but a dream, and all.

On that subject:

A boat, beneath a sunny sky
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July--

Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear--

Long has paled that sunny sky;
Echoes fade and memories die;
Autumn frosts have slain July.

Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die;

Ever drifting down the stream--
Lingering in the golden gleam--
Life, what is it but a dream?

--Lewis Carroll