When I gave last week's talk at meditation, I had no idea how relevant the subject would be for what was about to come to those of us in New Jersey and New York. I was speaking on anxiety and the fear of what "might happen." On Wednesday night many of us were faced with an emergency as water and dirt flooded our homes, towns, and businesses. With a basement full of sewage, I have a new perspective on the expression, "no mud, no lotus."
In those moments when we are not in a crisis, but are feeling anxiety flooding our system, we forget that even if such and such should happen, we would handle it in the moment. It might not be comfortable, but after the initial shock, we would take in the current conditions, recalibrate, and take the next necessary step. That's just what we do. We might first sit in a slump and feel despair, but then we move again.
In non-crisis moments, when we get caught in anxiety, we momentarily forget just how capable and resilient we are. We can strengthen that muscle in us that remembers more easily so that we can get ourselves out of that state. How?
~We practice the art of staying in the present moment. Recognizing that In the present moment, "I am breathing. I am alive. I am actually okay. Not in the the next moment, but this one right here. I can experience this." We learn that we can have all kinds of feelings and sensations and let them be just as they are without judgment. We let ourselves be in the experience and realize that we can be.
~ We develop greater and greater gratitude. We look around and see just how much goodness there is. This is a practice just like exercising. If we don't slow down enough to savor and be awed, we can easily get stuck in the mud. Take moments today to notice what is good, inside you and around you. "In this moment, what is good is..." Name what you see out loud.
~ We remember our connection to everything that is. We aren't separate from the storms, the fires, the earth, the people we disagree with, the injustice we see. We aren't separate from the flowers, the laughter of children, the beauty of the sunset, the falling leaves. We are made of it all: people past and present, the sun, the rain, the wind, the earth. We will return to it all. If we are made of it, we don't have to fear it and we can have an impact on it by what we do, how we respond, what kindness we bring in.
~ We take time to reflect on what matters most to us on a daily basis and let that be our backbone. We have all the wisdom we need to handle what's here when we pause and listen with our body and mind together. We can stop doing for a bit and listen.
On Thursday morning with sun and blue sky shining as if all was well in the world, I took in the news of my studio and stood looking at the basement and thought, "where do we even start with this?" I took a step and my husband took a step and gradually we are seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. In the process, I am mastering the art of taking cold showers, appreciating the generosity of friends who offer their homes and help, witnessing the tremendous work of the cleanup crews, the fire and police departments, the many volunteers helping the businesses in town, the utility company trying to get everyone back to normal. It is amazing. Once again I am reminded that I can't do it alone. This task of living takes community.
While I recalibrate what I can offer and how I can be a support to all of you, it is not what I wanted this fall, but it is what is needed. To help in this time, I recorded the meditation I gave on Friday morning for you. Click the link or scroll down for more. May it bring you some grounding in any unsettling times. If you are not disrupted right now, it is there for you for the moments when you will need it.
I wish you a happy Labor Day and for those of you celebrating Rosh Hashanah, I wish you a beautiful holiday. It is a perfect time to begin again.
🌻
Jean
