It's Not A Dirty Word

 

It's officially fall. Let's take a collective breath together after we've made the often chaotic adjustment back from summer. We can let the busyness of the past few weeks settle as we make this transition into the colorful season of letting go. 

Speaking of settling, over the past week, I shared a snow globe with my groups to give a visual of what we are striving to do when we sit in meditation and how it can be useful in our everyday life. We practice staying steady in the midst of everything else that may be swirling around (and right now  there is a great deal swirling around in this country and in this world, in addition to our personal lives). We observe ourselves and choose not to run around, chasing thoughts, getting caught up in the chaos, but instead to stay grounded. It is a practice that needs strengthening. What does it take to stay embodied, connected, grounded, or to come back down when we do get swept up? 

I feel old fashioned saying it, maybe because it feels taboo to say in today's climate, but "self-discipline" is what feels most true to my experience of learning how to resist the pull of forces all around us. No one else can make me have self-discipline which is what makes it so empowering. If I let myself be swayed by every impulse, feeling, and desire to do something, to have something, to follow something, to say something, more often than not, I'm not making mindful choices or choices I will feel good about later. In fact, I am not free to choose anything when I'm at the whim of my thoughts, feelings, and desires. That's not to say that being spontaneous or trusting one's gut feeling is not valuable. Of course, if I am overly regimented, I may never be surprised or delighted. But, if I can't observe what arises with curiosity and awareness and without acting immediately, I am likely to do a lot of unhelpful things for myself and others. We help kids develop this muscle when we teach them to wait, or show them the value of working toward something, or when we let them be bored and discover something on their own.

In meditation on Saturday, I shared how much I wanted to look at my phone during the meditation to see if my son, with his newly acquired license and responsibility, had left the house in time for his cross country meet. The pull to pick up the phone was strong, but I didn't. I sat in the discomfort and it passed. It was the perfect practice of feeling the temptation, the incessant cajoling of my mind, and not giving in. We can have a healthy relationship with self-discipline, one that's not dictated by "shoulds" but guided by awareness. One that reminds us to stay with the task we set forth to do because we can. In meditation, staying with our breathing exercises our ability to do one task -- to be in the present. It is a workout of its own and the benefits translate into our everyday life when we realize that we are more present to everything. 

In a culture where instant gratification is awarded so easily, it makes this practice an even greater ask. It requires us to practice more. We don't have to wait for much today. We can instantly have all kinds of food, entertainment, material goods, games delivered to us. We can get a hit of endorphins when we open our devices and get a "like" or play a game. We can distract ourselves easily with non-stop news, emails, communication. What meditation teaches is that we can just sit through the feeling, the pull. We won't explode. We won't miss anything. In fact we will be more present to the life that's here right now.

My invitation this week is to celebrate self-discipline. In what ways have you noticed  that self-discipline has enriched your life? Think through small things you take for granted. What healthy habits have you trained yourself in? How did you get to be successful at what you do? Most likely self-discipline was in there to some degree. Make note of the ways you currently choose to do something even when you feel the pull not to (for example, maybe you brush your teeth, even though you just want to get in bed). Let's make it not so taboo to choose to hold our tongue, to wait instead of react, to concentrate on the one task before us and not distract ourselves with a quick hit, to enjoy the reward that comes from observing, waiting, and choosing to act with awareness. To let ourselves be uncomfortable, or to be okay in not knowing how to do something. To stay steady amidst our own thoughts, feelings, desires. The reward is worth it. It is empowering.

🧘🏽‍♂️
Jean

Beginnings, Endings, Presence & The Path

 

September brings with it a lot of beginnings. Because new things are asked of us when we begin something, beginnings also involve change. Even what we perceive as endings are beginnings of something new -- a new period of time, a new way of being, a new landscape, etc. For me, this month brings the start of all my groups, the start of the school routine with my teenagers, the start of them driving on their own and what that means for me, the start of cooler temperatures and leaves falling, the start of a new self-care routines, the start of relationships with new members in the community. Something new I've been seeing on social media about seniors, "its the first last day of school!" I didn't know that was a thing!

We can meet beginnings in a contracted state, ready to protect against what we don't know, or we can meet them with trust in possibility and growth, knowing our resiliency is strong, should we need it. The latter feels better emotionally and physically, but it takes some attention and intention to let go of habitual guarding that arises. It takes awareness that the guardrails are emerging and then the perspective to choose how we really want to meet it. Meditation, mindfulness, awareness -- they are the path to freedom, to ease, peace, contentment, and that's because unless we see what we think, feel, say, and do, we can't choose. We are not free at all and happiness eludes us.

Though our habit energy is strong, we are not servants to it. To create new habits, to see meaning in things, to be filled with awe, wonder, gratitude takes applying ourselves. It is not effortless, but it can become less effortful the more we practice. Without this effort, I may have missed this experience...

Last week, I went to convocation day at my son's school on the 2nd day of his senior year. I warned him that hearing live bagpipers at ceremonies often makes me cry and I would try not to embarrass him. I thought it was a beautiful ceremony, though this yearly tradition seemed routine to the school community. I didn't get the sense that crying at the bagpiper's music was a norm. The experience was fresh to me, though.

A senior stood at the podium to share some words on courage that was accompanied by a slide projection of illustrations to the far left of the gymnasium corresponding to each line he read. The audience turned and watched the projections, but my eyes stayed on the student whose posture was attentive and upright. Almost military in his demeanor, he was clear and deeply articulate. When he sat down, he sat at attention and let out a deep breath and sigh of relief. All I could do was smile from ear to ear. This was the same student I remembered three years ago, like my son, a newcomer to the school. He shouted out a "goodbye James" back then after soccer practice and I felt relief at the time, that someone knew my son's name and wasn't afraid to connect. He gave a talk on courage and I could see that courage at work inside him on that first day of his freshman year and on this "last second day." And then the tears did want to start flowing and it wasn't because of the bagpiper. I looked at the class of 90 students across from us in the bleachers of that gymnasium and thought about all the experiences this one group of young people will have before them. How many will thrive, how many will get stuck, how many may have ill health or not live as long as me. I thought of all the awkwardness in these high school years and how they will outgrow it, or already have, and just how amazing the whole things is...this life.

To some teachers, students, administrators, trustees this was just another ceremony, another speech. If we don't look closely, if we miss that freshman shouting a goodbye, if we miss the nuances and don't stop long enough to take in the life that's here, well, then it is just another ceremony, another day. I drove home and felt joy and awe that morning. And that was a beautiful thing.

My invitation this week is for us to keep our eyes, ears, senses open so that we don't miss the subtle, beautiful gestures and the awkward moments that remind us how precious and vulnerable we all are together. We can let that tenderness of being wake us up to joy and love. We have to slow down to do it. We have to be present.

Wishing you all a week of noticing beginnings and choosing how you want to meet them.

🌻
Jean