Saturday, May 3, 2014

Breathing With Bears

Last weekend, I took my children to see the Disney film, Bears. I thought we were seeing a typical animated movie, not a documentary, so I wasn't prepared for the 90 minutes of anxiety I had to sit with as I watched a momma bear protect her cubs from other large, four legged animals with big teeth, avalanches, and shortages of food. So much for a relaxing night at the movies. Two days later, I brought my kids to school and as I walked my dog before heading to the train, I again felt a subtle, but pervasive sense of anxiety coursing through me. I had to remind myself, that everything was really fine. The kids were safe, happy, and on time for school. I had a full day of clients to see. I had enough money for the week. I had a roof over my head, clothes, and food. I was healthy. I was going to be able to run. The sun was even out. Everything was in fact really good, so why the anxiety? Bears! That's why. As many experts on the brain tell us, we are wired that way. We live on shaky ground. Even if we're not physically located in an earthquake zone, we are perpetually up against rumbling forces, against inevitable change. So, of course we don't automatically relax just because a fox or tremendous bear isn't preying on us in the very moment. How does our whole being know to let our guard down? This is an interesting challenge and is something I keep exploring in my life and work. It's not enough to have the thought that I'm not in danger, and that I can be at ease, I need to connect the thought to my body. Only then, can I actually let go.

Having the intellectual understanding that I am not in danger is very different than literally saying to myself, "Jean, in this moment, everything is okay; you are safe" and then sense, not think, but sense a softening in my eyes and face, in my shoulders and chest. I can bring my attention to my inhale and exhale and feel my ribs and abdomen move and not hold them in as if wearing an invisible corset. I can choose to soften the shell that holds me and carries me through this life. To think we're okay is not enough, we must physically sense it for change to happen. The best way I know to do it is through conscious breathing. It's the greatest free app we have. All we need to do is click on it.

No matter what comes up that makes my mind and emotions spin like a top, I can come back to my breath, and it's as if I put my finger up against the whirling and the spinning top comes to a dead halt. If I am in a difficult emotional place, it doesn't stop the suffering, but from there, I can create enough space to say, "wow, I am really sad (or anxious, or scared, or lonely, or in deep longing), but even in this suffering, I am okay." From there I breathe in and out the sensations of these feelings with compassionate attention and not have to do anything more. I can feel my chest constrict, my field of vision narrow, my body feel heavy, but I can breathe into it and sense an okay-ness within the difficulty. And, I'll keep coming back to doing that for as long as the feeling is present. It might be throughout a whole day or it may be just an hour, or maybe it's a week, or a month, or a year where I have to keep reminding myself I am okay and can breathe.

When I lived in the city and went to the deep country on artist retreats, I would always contemplate what to do if I came across a bear. It was as if I was simultaneously wanting and dreading the experience. I no longer do that, but, in a deeper way, I am aware that the bear is always there. What matters is that I can breathe anyway; in this very moment, I am truly okay.

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