Buddhist teacher Pema Chodron says that emotion consists of energy plus a story. When we drop the story, all that’s left is the energy. This beautiful teaching has been guiding me toward a calmer way of being in the world. One way I work with it is to practice separating my thoughts from my reality. Moving away from ‘thinking’ toward ‘being’ and ‘experiencing’ allows things that used to feel complicated and stressful to become quite simple.
For example, I’m preparing something in the kitchen, and I drop the bowl onto the floor. Yikes – it’s a mess! But instead of going into my overblown emotional reaction: “I’m such a clutz! I can’t do anything right! I’m hopeless… everything I do ends up in failure…” blah blah self-piteous boring blah… I can instead take a deep breath, hold compassion and love in my heart for myself and all other wonderfully human and imperfect beings, and simply assess the situation. Get a mop. It’s only a task… and all tasks can be done with love… and often even enjoyment. There’s nothing so inherently awful about cleaning the kitchen floor once I am willing to drop the story line around it, and just use the energy of the emotions I had been feeling to get things done. I can even offer gratitude for things like the fact that I have a kitchen floor to mop, and a healthy body that can get the job done.
This practice is really about letting go of resistance to what is. As Oscar Wilde says, “If you’re having a fight with reality, reality always wins.” We can choose to stop struggling against that, and go with the flow!
Try it. Rehearse it in your mind before you get into the heat of a moment. Think of a relatively simple situation like the one I described that causes you to fly off the handle. Picture yourself pausing in the midst of your reaction, noticing it… and simply breathing a little more deeply before you do anything else. How does this feel? Notice if any resistance arises to this new way of being, and just observe that too. This is not about denying or repressing what you feel. You are just cushioning your habitual response with a little more time, to become aware, and to breathe.
The stubborn mind clings to its version of ‘reality,’ but once we learn to accept that we are not in control life becomes a whole lot simpler. Remember, everything you do is only a task. And all tasks can be done with love, gratitude, and often even enjoyment. It takes a lot of practice and patience, but once you get into the new habit of catching yourself mid-stream, you can take charge of how you want to live in the world – stop complicating life with your emotional reactions and simply use the energy.
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alone will be something you’ll be quite a lot.”
--words of wisdom from the great Dr. Seuss (in Oh, the Places You’ll Go)
I’ve wrestled with the demon of loneliness many times in my life – as have most of us – and I find comfort in the striking similarity between the words ‘alone,’ and ‘all one.’ The more I surrender to this experience of ‘all one,’ the less I feel ‘alone.’
It is so easy to feel isolated in our own skin, in the walls we build around us for protection that often become so familiar we can’t even see them anymore. When people come to my spiritual circles, they will often apologize for something so innocent as crying when a wave of emotion comes over them, or for sneezing during a period of silent meditation. It makes me realize a common tendency that many people share: we feel we are the only ones having a difficult experience of life, and so we feel something is wrong with us.
The great thing about a spiritual circle is the connections among people become more tangible. Each person who shares their story says something I can relate to deeply. This helps me take my experience less personally and transform my feeling of ‘alone’ into a feeling of ‘all one.’ I start to shift from messages like ‘I am a failure, I can’t get this right,’ to a more easeful way of relating with the dilemmas that are common to humans as we struggle to evolve here on this planet.
While we each have our own unique expression of reality, all humans experience joy, depression, hope, despair, weakness, strength, apathy, anger, fear, love. It’s not just YOU – everyone at times suffers, feels crazy, can be laughing one minute and in the depth of despair the next. It’s all part of the collective experience of life.
Just remembering this helps me laugh at myself and take everything a little less seriously when I get bound up in my ego’s tendencies to feel separate and alone and oh-so-sorry-for-myself. A practice that helps me shift my mindset is a meditation with trees. A tree can’t sustain the illusion of separation. The roots are inextricably bound up with the soil; the branches and leaves intertwine with air and sky, rain and sun. You can either sit by a tree, or just close your eyes and imagine… as you breathe in and out, you are exchanging energy with not only every tree but also every being on the planet – because there are no boundaries to breath, no boundaries to air, and no boundaries to love.
]]>In a recent workshop with Jennifer Cohen Harper of Little Flower Yoga I discovered that the areas of our brain which process pain are completely separate from the areas of our brain that process suffering. Studies have shown that those who meditate exhibit a ‘de-coupling’ of the brain activity in each of these centers: the pain center can be activated without the suffering center firing. Sounds promising, right?
Two simple practices that are helping me apply this in my life are shifting focus, and witnessing.
Shifting focus: In a joyous spring moment of abandoning caution, I danced in the grass. The next day: poison ivy! If I obsess over how much it itches, I will be miserable and scratching as we all know only worsens the situation. So I shift focus: maybe I do something completely engaging to take my mind off it like riding my bike through NYC traffic; or maybe I just lie down and keep bringing my attention to a part of my body that doesn’t itch.
Witnessing: “This too shall pass” is a good mantra for witnessing. I watch whatever I experience with a sense of detachment, like the curiosity of an outside observer. I witness my thoughts, emotions, and sensations without attaching to them just as I would watch clouds float by in the sky on a summer day. This practice reminds me that nothing I feel or experience is permanent. Much suffering comes from projecting pain into the future and thinking it will always be this way or by yielding to strong habitual emotional reactions.
I practice shifting focus and witnessing with easier things, so when pain does come calling I am more able to cope. Take any minor irritation, like spilling coffee on a new white shirt – once I go through my initial reaction, I can choose to witness the fiery emotions that arise and let them dissipate rather than feeding the flames by shifting my focus onto something I am appreciative for, or something that feels good in the moment.
If you can relate to the desire to de-couple pain from suffering in your life, try experimenting with these two simple practices. You can think of a common situation that causes you minor irritation in your life rather than going to your most painful experiences at first. When the situation arises, practice replacing your usual responses with the shifting focus and witnessing techniques described above. Give it time. Like all difficult work, these techniques will not instantly change a lifetime of habitual reactions to situations, but I can say that as I work with this over time I notice small but significant shifts. A billboard I used to pass every day in the East Village said it well: ‘Be not afraid of going slowly. Be only afraid of standing still.’
]]>There are so many ways to do this. A few days ago, struck by the beauty of spring flowers unfolding as I rode my bicycle to work, a phrase came to me that I’ve been repeating silently like a mantra ever since: “Every breath is a feast.” Another simple mantra I repeat often is “Thank you.” Remembering gratitude brings joy to my days and helps me override my mind’s neurotic tendency to constantly want something more or different than what I have.
I often notice that even in the middle of eating a wonderful meal, my mind will start obsessing on what I might eat tomorrow, or on some other un-related aspect of my life. So I’ve chosen meal times as a time to practice mindful awareness, bringing my mind back to my sensory experience when I notice it’s gone astray and repeating my mantra when needed to help me stay focused.
Another practice I’ve found useful lately for keeping my mind in the NOW is a mindfulness technique called Layers of Sound. This practice was introduced to me by Jennifer Cohen Harper of Little Flower Yoga at a recent workshop on teaching mindfulness techniques to children. Adults are simply bigger children, so this practice is quite relevant for me as well! First open your ears wide and find the furthest away sound you can hear. After a few moments, bring your hearing in a little closer, gradually progressing in stages from the sounds within your home or building (or surrounding environment if you’re outside), to the sounds within the room, to the sounds within a small circle around you, and finally to the sounds within.
Focusing on any sensory experience is a wonderful way to come into the present. Notice your mind’s tendency to label the experience with words rather than having the direct experience, and keep gently returning your mind to awareness of direct sensation, like wind kissing your skin or the fragrance of the soap you’re using to wash your face. In this way, each moment of our lives becomes precious.
To help these practices ‘stick,’ I recommend choosing one specific aspect of your day to practice present-moment awareness. It could be waiting for the subway, eating a meal, or brushing your teeth – anything that you do regularly where you can consistently remind yourself to focus.
With mindfulness, you can relax, take it easy, and enjoy the gifts that are present everywhere!
]]>“Less is more,” I find myself saying to students (and myself!) often lately. It is one of life’s lovely paradoxes that to get ‘there,’ to whatever it is you seek, you must first realize you already are ‘there.’ We can make a choice to work toward our goals with easeful effort rather than strain.
As shoots push up from beneath the ground they can even move concrete out of their way, yet they stay soft and supple. We can work like that, physically by relaxing our muscular tension even as we engage our muscles, and mentally by not clinging to rigid or fixed patterns of thinking and behaving.
When babies learn to crawl, they push backward at first – a necessary part of learning to propel themselves forward. Birds crouch down first in order to take off and soar up high. We can learn from these analogies. Backing away from a goal to regroup is not defeat. Often I limit myself because I am not patient enough. I think if I don’t achieve my goal quickly enough it means I am not capable, so I give up entirely. I am working to outgrow this attitude, to cultivate the faith of redwood trees, growing so slowly at times that the change can’t be seen, but eventually they tower over the forest. A school mural in the East Village where I used to teach said it well: “Be not afraid of going slowly. Be only afraid of standing still.”
What goals are you working toward this spring? Make them as tangible as you can by writing them, drawing them, or closing your eyes and visualizing them. Then breathe deeply, connecting to your desire and intention to manifest your visions in your life. As you exhale, release the need to know how and when. Trust that if your goals are spiritually aligned with the universe, you will have all the support you need to get there. Doubt is your enemy; acknowledge it if it's there, but don’t feed it by buying into negative thoughts. Patience is your greatest ally; keep coming back to focusing on your breath when your mind races.
Wishing you the perseverance of green living things as you move toward your intentions this spring.
]]>“Do not be too timid or squeamish about your actions. All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better. What if you are a little coarse and you get your coat soiled or torn? What if you do fall and get fairly rolled in the dirt once or twice? Up again; never be so afraid of a tumble.”
--Ralph Waldo Emerson
I’ve always been fearful of making mistakes; afraid to fall, so to speak. I’m learning about ways to exorcise the perfectionist in me that attacks when I feel I’ve been less than perfect (in other words: human!). Here’s what I’m noticing lately: as I work to transform old habits and rise above where I’ve been, I sometimes find myself right back immersed in an old habit. How did I get back here?! I get worked up over this: angry, frustrated, worried… Not only did I delve back into my old ways, I commence with a blown-out-of-proportion emotional reaction that digs me even deeper into the pit. Old tapes that run in my head telling me I am worthless and a failure become louder and more voracious than ever. If I wallow in the feelings this brings up, I feed these false demons of separation and anxiety. There are other options here!
“God doesn’t make junk,” is a line I recall from a novel (if you know which one, please tell me so I can give credit where it’s due!) so I know I am not in reality when I give credence to these voices. But because I’ve bought into them all my life, transcending these messages takes an incredible amount of patience and discernment. Slowing down my reactions seems to be a key for me. If I can notice these toxic tendencies of my mind to spin out into un-reality, I can come back to my breathing before I indulge in any old self-sabotaging behaviors.
It is discouraging to make a resolution to myself, so sure that this time will be different, only to find myself repeating old ways. But I have to remind myself, if it were so easy to transform old habits, then I wouldn’t need these resolutions in the first place! This body and this life are our spiritual training ground, and we are all like children learning to walk. We can all do it, but we will take falls in the process. If we become afraid of the falls and shy away from them, we’ll get stuck repeating what we already know how to do rather than learning anything new. Falling down is inevitable in the process of growth!
As Henry Ford said, “Failure is only the opportunity to begin again more intelligently.” Just as we wouldn’t chide a toddler for falling as they learn to walk upright, we can be gentle with ourselves in our perceived ‘triumphs’ and ‘failures,’ realizing that from a larger perspective both of these dualities are essential to the process of growth.
Jesus describes spiritual growth as a ‘straight and narrow path.’ The tragedy is not that as we try to walk this path, we sometimes fall; the tragedy is that sometimes we become too afraid, or buy into the idea that we are too weak or inadequate, to pick ourselves up, brush ourselves off, and continue on…
Staying out here, in the open, in that no-man’s-land that does not slide into elation or depression, takes courage and faith. In the thin air of not knowing is where truth will find you.
Deepak Chopra offers a wonderful exercise in The Book of Secrets that helps me with this: Take a piece of paper and make two columns labeled “Good Choice” and “Bad Choice.” Under each column, list at least five choices that have been significant in your life. Then think of at least one good thing that came out of the ‘bad’ choices and one bad thing that came out of the ‘good’ choices. This exercise can be a great reminder that the reality is more in the not-knowing, living each moment with flexibility and an open mind rather than judging ourselves or our experience.
]]>This story highlights for me how easy it is to tell others to take care of themselves, and how difficult it can be to do that work myself. As a yoga instructor, for example, I often encourage others to rest; it’s harder to get myself to unleash from my busy mind and lie down on my own couch. I see many parents who will go to the ends of the earth to make their children comfortable, while ignoring their own needs. Unfortunately, children learn more from what we do than what we say. Children are more likely to grow up repeating our patterns of behavior, even if we tell them to ‘do as I say, not as I do.’
I believe that our most powerful acts of caring for the world are the examples we set in how we treat ourselves as well as others. As the great Gandhi said, “You must be the change you want to see in the world.” This is true whether you are a teacher, a social worker, a doctor, a parent, a janitor… no matter what line of work you find yourself in, the choices you make personally have a great impact on those around you.
I’m learning that my words have more power when I live what I’m teaching. This is not as easy as it may sound! One of the hardest parts of life’s journey for me has been stepping up to the plate of loving myself with all the fullness of my heart. For some reason this process is terrifying as much as it is gratifying. It requires me to face an exhilarating yet sometimes almost smothering sense of vast personal responsibility. It forces me to outgrow the old messages I’ve bought into all my life about my own insufficiency, to move into the unfamiliar zone of taking the risk to believe in the inner light that we all have. This light is in me as much as it is in anyone else I want to care for, but as the seamstress story makes clear, most people have a harder time turning inward and recognizing it. We tend to treat ourselves in ways we would never subject anyone else to.
One thing I’ve been working with in my efforts to live what I want to teach is the way I talk to myself. When I make a simple mistake, when I’m tired and I drop something for example, I can hear this Charlie Brown inner voice screaming at me, “You always screw everything up!” My mind can really be quite cruel in the messages I hear.
It is possible to transform whatever negative messages you hear in your mind by shifting into ‘witnessing’ mode: observe the thoughts as if they’re written on a billboard somewhere. Then separate your sense of self from these deprecating thoughts, replacing them with a mantra like, “Treating myself as precious makes me strong.”
]]>One realization I’ve had is that the most important freedom to me is in the mind. I may be free to go wherever I want or to choose a career path - but if I am a slave to mental conditioning, to what other people tell me to do or think, or to harmful habits, then how free am I really?
The fourth and final chapter of the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali is all about freedom of the mind. One thing it teaches is that humans suffer because we identify ourselves with the thoughts in our mind (which are transient, and limited in perspective). For example, someone at work calls me stupid (oh no, the ‘s’ word!) and if I am not strong and centered in my true self, that label wedges into my self-conception. I come to identify with the label, and then my actions become self-fulfilling prophecies. I self-sabotage with ‘stupid’ choices because I’m acting out what someone else told me I am.
The bumper-sticker phrase ‘freedom is not free’ comes to mind here. The price of freedom: I have to be willing to give up my neuroses, and my wrong ideas of who I am. Surely this is an exhilarating and wonderful opportunity, but it can also be scary as hell. Think of the animals who spend their lives in cages and when the door is opened, they don’t leave because the safe space of the cage has become too familiar. I find similar reactions in myself as I journey toward freedom, and feel myself recoiling at times from fear of the unknown. The Eagles said it well in Take It Easy: we live our lives in chains never knowing we have the key.
The key, I’m learning, is in my own mind. Ironically, I’m finding that mental freedom can be cultivated by limiting other types of ‘freedom.’ Just like children need appropriate boundaries in order to grow up feeling secure, setting boundaries for the mind can bring focus and tranquility. One way to do this is to use a mantra (a word or sound repeated silently, linked to the breath). For example, inhale and think to yourself “I AM.” Exhale, and think “FREE.” Every time you notice that you’ve gone off on a train of thought, gently bring your mind back to focusing on your breath and repeating the mantra. You can sit or lie down comfortably and practice this technique for a few minutes each day, gradually increasing the duration of time you spend in this type of meditation. I have noticed tremendous benefits accruing over time from this practice. Like anything else, if you just do it occasionally its power to transform your situation will be limited. Commit to this practice daily for at least one month, and notice the effects in your life.
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The two main contents of my spiritual toolbox at this time of year are endurance and faith. Faith in the seeds I am planting, whose blossoms I will not see for a long time yet, if ever. Endurance to keep slogging along even when I’m tired, discouraged, or in discomfort or pain. Can you tell that winter is not my favorite season?!
Usually by mid-February a psychic angst accumulates in me that feels like it may smother me to death before that blessed final 28th (or 29th day, this year - yikes!) rolls around. I was inspired by the group of wise souls at my winter solstice circle, who shared things they love about this time of year, and I’m trying to change my attitude toward the cold season. A guide once reflected to me that perhaps when I learn to embrace winter I will learn to truly love myself. When I look more deeply into this I realize that it is always the rough patches in life that evolve me, and that deepen my capacity for love. It is easy to love and give thanks when I feel on top of my game. Harder when I feel stuck in the mud. So in an evolutionary sense the seasons and times of life that are uncomfortable, unpleasant, or even painful for me are probably the most valuable.
Faith gives me the strength to keep going when times get rough. Gloria Karpinski has some wonderful exercises for cultivating faith in her book Barefoot on Holy Ground. She writes, “Where we don’t trust ourselves, Spirit or the universe shows us an edge in our consciousness. Stretch the edge, and grace will pour in. This is an exercise about deliberately experiencing that stretch.”
I am condensing her 18-step practice called “From Fear to Faith” into the following twelve steps:
In the past I’ve lived with a ‘cushion’ of money in my bank account, giving me the illusion of security that most Americans seem to buy into. But my energetic bank account was always depleted – in fact, I was constantly living in a state of debt. I kept myself too busy to notice this imbalance, only stopping when a severe illness forced my hand.
Now I’m trying to be as proactive with building up my energetic reserves as I have been in the past with my financial resources. For the moment, this has meant that as I take more time to rest and rejuvenate, there’s a corresponding drop in literal money in the bank that leaves me feeling vulnerable. Whether this path turns out to be wise or foolish, only time will tell.
Signs that indicate to me that I’m on the right track: my mind is growing calmer. New types of work that feel truly aligned with my beliefs and talents are flowing to me. Situations in life that used to cause high stress roll off me now like water off a duck’s feathers.
In the past I’ve lived with the unquestioned assumption that if I did not feel overwhelmingly busy, then I was not doing enough. Now I’m turning that conventional (and life-depleting) mode of living on its head: the Buddhist phrase, “Don’t just do something; sit there!” is a recurring theme for me. My simple mantra, courtesy of my nutritional and lifestyle mentor Fred Bisci is “Best to Rest.”
Our minds are conditioned to think that not until everything in the world is perfect and at peace can we rest. I am coming to believe that in truth it is precisely the opposite: until we can find peace and perfection within, nothing we try to do will create it in the world outside. In the metaphor of flight attendant language, for obvious reasons you are advised to put on your own oxygen mask before trying to put on someone else’s.
At this holiday season, I invite you to take stock of your energetic bank account. Bring peace into your life by taking some things off the schedule, bond with your couch, practice yoga, curl up with a good book… take time out to restore! In our culture that teaches us to beat ourselves down, nurturing ourselves is truly a radical act. Give yourself permission to build up your reserves, so you can start the new year ‘in the black!’
Wishing you well,
--Lauren
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