Letting Go

It is the season of letting go. Some leaves fall when they are still green; some leaves fall once they have completely transformed their color; some leaves fall along with the others; some leaves linger as long as they can; some leaves hang on until spring comes and new growth pushes them off. Some fall quickly to the ground and some meander down in swaying curves. Some get carried by the wind and others get carried by a stream or river. All the leaves eventually let go, showing us that there is no one way to do it. They have much to teach us about the process.

We use the term "letting go" often in meditation. But what does it really look like to let something go? It can sound so easy or methodical, but it rarely is. On Sunday night I shared my current layer of letting go. It often happens in layers. We shed a whole skin and live in that new suit for a while, until we are ready to shed another. I invite you to have a listen to the talk, but even if you don't, you can still try on this week's pause...

This fall, what do you want to let go of? What holds you back, keeps you in resentment, sadness, anger, physical pain, or stuck? What keeps you from feeling free? Anxiety has a lot to say on that matter, so if you are feeling anxious it can be a good place to start. What's underneath it that needs releasing? It's okay if you feel as though you already did it and it "shouldn't" still be there needing to let go. All it means is that there is yet another layer ready to fall away in time.
Naming it is the first step. From there, letting go has to happen in the mind, in the body and in the heart. Skipping one doesn't work. Here are some journaling/reflection prompts on all three.

1. What does my mind need to let go of here? Is there another way of perceiving what has gone on that incorporates who I am now, not who I once was? What is true now?

2. Where in my body am I holding this? Drop out of thinking and into sensing with this one. What does it feel like (describe it in colorful detail)? Now that I know it, what does my body need me to do to really let go, to relax, to stop contracting? If I were to sit, stand, move in the ways it needs me to, what would that feel like? Or, if it needs me to stop altogether, what would that be like?

3. What does my heart, or what does love, have to say about this? This will be the voice of kindness, compassion, and understanding coming through. Move away from processing intellectually and drop into something deeper and more knowing.

This is just a start, but it can be part of the process that's often a life-long one. Forgiveness works in the same way. So much freedom lies here.

Wishing you a peaceful path to Thanksgiving!
🙏🧡

Jean

Sensing Beyond The Details

After a conversation in my morning group, I'm feeling inspired to write more on a way of viewing that I am finding more and more helpful in my life. I am going to try my best to explain it, though it might be clumsy.

I’m realizing that the practices I’ve learned that have been most helpful to me all have this one thing as a component. That one thing asks me to step out of the details of an issue and sense beyond them to find out what it is I really need to know. When I get caught in the details, for example, this happened and then this happened; she said that and I responded with this, and then this other thing went on -- when I do this, the benefit is that I get all of that out of me which can be somewhat cathartic, but I rarely find that the relaying of all that information helps me to feel any better. I’m still left with it. Nothing is transformed or seen in a new way.

When I catch myself getting bogged down in the details of what happened, or is happening, and pause to check in and see beyond the details -- what the whole thing feels like, or what the whole thing wants me to know, or what my higher, more experienced self knows about the whole of it, I get to see a perspective I might not have otherwise. More insights arise and more possibilities emerge.

Sometimes we do need to have someone who can listen to all of what went on. There’s some relief in having someone witness the intricacies of our experience, but if we really want to transform what’s weighing on us there is this other way. It’s a mindful practice because it requires a pause, more silence to be able to listen deeper, and an openness to sensing and hearing what else we know that may be beyond words and has a felt sense. It often comes out as an image or a physical feeling, an inner knowing that comes from the heart and the mind processing something together. It’s not the linear intellect at work, but something more holistic.

The best way to understand this is probably to try it on for yourself. You can do this alone (I find it helpful to talk out loud if I’m alone so that I can hear myself clearly).

• Name an issue that you are facing in your life right now. It might be something big, but it doesn’t have to be. Just find a word or phrase that captures the issue without giving details
• Step back from it and name it again by saying, “there’s this issue here.” And now that you’ve clearly identified it, what is the feeling around the whole of it? You don’t have to take the first answer that comes to mind, but hear it and see if that’s really it. If it is, great, but if that isn’t quite it, try on some others and see what else you find that captures it. It might be more than one feeling, or maybe it’s a sensation, or an image might come. Again, step back and repeat it back, there’s this issue and the whole thing feels like ___. Take a breath to make room for the feeling/sensation/image.
• Now ask, “if I let go of the details around it all (what happened, the “shoulds” of it, the judgements, the shock, the need for answers), coming from love, what is most important for me here?” Let yourself slow down. This part may take more time exploring as you try on the answer that comes and see if that’s it or maybe there is something more. But you’ll know you’re onto something when you feel a sense of “yes, that’s it” (or your head nods in affirmation). Once you hear the thing you need to hear, name it again and don’t feel the need to do anything more. Let just that much digest.

That’s it. How did that feel? How does the whole thing feel now? What I find is that after that, there’s a deep breath that comes. I’m no longer caught in what went on and what I have to do with it, rather I now know what’s inside it all and that will eventually inform me of what I might need to do next. And, if you imagine doing it the other way -- relaying all of the details of the issue -- what’s the difference? How does it feel different in your body, the energy of it? It’s always good to compare so that you know the difference and then can choose which way you want to approach something. They are both valid, but have different end results.

If you did try this on, I would love to hear your experience. What did you notice? How is it different for you? Feel free to drop me an email.

Wishing you all a beautiful November week.
🙏🧡
Jean

Releasing Pressure In The Present Moment

 

Happy November!

I'm just back from a weekend in the country. We usually miss peak foliage when we go, but this year it was later than usual and though we had some rain, it was a beautiful weekend of color and rest. My dear sangha member, Carl, once shared that to help with those transitions of returning from a trip he remembers to say, "thank you." Since he shared that practice, both my husband and I have been doing that as we pack the car to leave. Gratitude gives me something to lean on in those moments when it feels hard to let go.

Then, I lean into myself to listen to why it feels hard to return. What comes to the surface is not the conditions I'm returning to -- I love what I do, who I'm around, my kids are content and easy, but the pressure I put on myself...it can be enough to keep anyone from wanting to return. I know I'm not alone in this. 

I recently had a week where I was able to let it go. It might have been the first time in my life where I experienced what that feels like and it was deeply liberating. And then I lost it. In the shuffle of getting my office back up and running, post flood, an audit, and having to make many decisions, it got swept away like a fallen leaf being carried downstream.

Pressure is something I feel when I am caught in the future. It actually doesn't have to do with the present moment. I feel it in the present moment, but it's caused by expectation which has me leaning into the future. In the present moment, what's going on is simply what's going on. If I stay right here, I'm actually okay (often more than okay). To get to this clarity though, I have to talk myself through it -- what's actually here. I say it out loud or make a list in my journal. But that alone, while it brings me perspective and clarity, won't take care of the feeling. I then need to drop into compassion for myself and for all beings who experience this sense of pressure, because it is hard and it is very human. We don't get through life without experiencing this. Anyone who says otherwise isn't really living here. All we can do is practice "coming home" to ourselves right now and recall our connection to everything (also known as love), which we can easily forget.

My invitation this week is to recognize when you are feeling pressure (pressure of being, having and doing enough, which is one of my favorite books A Life of Being, Having, and Doing Enough by Wayne Muller) and pause to get clear in the present moment and to find compassion for this human condition that none of us get to escape, but all of us can meet with grace. Simply place your hand on your heart and take a handful of breaths feeling the warmth and tenderness of your own hand. Be a friend to yourself. 

Wishing you a beautiful November. Happy Diwali for those of you celebrating!

🙏🍁

Jean

Seeing With Soft Eyes

I'm sorry I missed a week of offering you A Mindful Pause. I had more on my plate that needed tending to, but I am back this week with a pause on how we see. If you are in a place with changing seasons, it is a time of color and a great opportunity to try on this week's pause. But, even if you are not seeing colorful leaves where you are, this can still apply anytime, anywhere. 

I have been focusing lately on slowing down, doing less, being more present, and letting go (as best I can) of the habit of multi-tasking. One of the tools we can use to be more present is to see with "soft eyes." What does that mean? The best way I can explain it is to describe the difference. When I see with soft eyes, my vision is more open. I see more peripherally than I would if I was deeply concentrated and focused on a specific object, task, or direction. When we are on a computer, like I am right now, my gaze is narrowed and specific. But, if I turn away from the computer and allow my eyes to gently open more to their full range I see more color, light, and my whole being tends to soften. I take an easier breath. I relax. 

When I am busy and task oriented, I tend to get more narrow in my vision, which can be helpful in keeping me focused and concentrated, but if I stay that way even when I complete a task, I end up missing the beauty and the fullness of what is here. I remember when I lived in NYC and walked that fast pace that goes with city living, I would remind myself to look up and see more than just the direction I was going. The tops of so many city buildings are full of details that we can miss. Of course, I didn't want to seem like a tourist, but a tourist's eyes are fresh, so why not?

My invitation this week, when you can remember, is to soften your gaze. Especially when you are outside walking, but even as you move through your house, or when you are sitting in a room with your family in it, all doing different things. See what it feels like to widen your field of vision by softening in the corners of your eyes, behind your eyes, between your eyes. Let go of the furrowed brow and let the colors, light, and movement fill you and see how it subtly changes how you feel inside. Or even when you are talking with someone, what if you see them more softly, what does that do to your experience of them?

🙏
Jean

We Are Not Just This

In mindfulness meditation we learn the tool of "naming" or "labeling" to help us create some space from the thoughts or feelings that arise. When we can name it, it's not all of us. It's as if we take a step back from it so that we can see it. It's like looking at a painting. If we go right up to it we can't see what it is, we just see splotches of color, but when we move back we get clarity as we see it's whole form.

Our thoughts and feelings can be like big blobs of color that we can get lost in, sometimes happily so and sometimes painfully so. We can get caught up in the color. But, when we can name what's there, it becomes separate from us; it's not all of us, even if it feels like a large part. We know there is more to us than just that, even if it is the loudest at the moment. This can be helpful because we don't have to react from that color. We can be aware of it, feel it, and know that it will change, as all things change. Or, if it's pleasant, naming it can help us not attach in the ways that will cause us future pain. This is the useful part of naming/labeling in meditation. But, there is another way we can label ourselves in our lives that is not so helpful.

Do you tend to make statements about yourself in any of these ways:
I am ___________ (ex. insert any condition, diagnosis). I'm  ___________ (ex. insert any generalized description -- conservative, liberal, athletic, klutzy). I'm an anxious person. I'm too sensitive. I'm a procrastinator. I'm bad at __________ (ex. relationships, boundaries, self-care). I have a bad __________ (ex. back, knee, hip, neck, digestion, etc.). I'm lazy. I'm a perfectionist. You get the idea.

We can so easily name ourselves as one thing or another. I tend to do it with my back. I'll catch myself say, "I have a bad back." It's not true though. I have a great back. It has a ton of muscle and strength AND what else is true is that I often experience pain, which has become a life long process of getting to understand. My back is a part of me that I am in relationship with and constantly evolving with. When I say I have a bad back. It becomes me. Jean and her bad back. That statement feels permanent; it feels like I am broken; it feels bad. I'd prefer to say I'm working with the pain in my back so I can understand what it needs and feel better. It's a kinder way to think of myself and I'm on my side -- all the sides of me.

The problem with calling ourselves one thing or another is that when we classify ourselves as something, it stops there. Like putting a period at the end of a sentence. It has finality to it and leaves little room for there to be more than that or for it to evolve and change. It happens with trauma....we become the trauma. As if it defines us. Or some past history that we keep holding onto as if that's all there will ever be because it comes to the surface at times. We don't have to limit ourselves this way. The shift in the way we defines ourselves in our speech and thinking is simple and it's a kinder way of being. It allows for us to be more a more full, complex, and constantly changing human being, which we are.

My invitation this week is to notice when you name yourself as being this or that and see what happens if you let it go and instead say something like, I'm experiencing ______ or I'm feeling _______, remembering that you are not ________ itself. It doesn't define you. How does that shift in language and way of seeing open up what is possible? With practice, it can free us from being stuck and limited to some idea we adopted about ourselves or were told by someone else (doctor, therapist, coach, teacher, family member). We are not "just this." We are so much more.

🌻
Jean