This Is Not the End of The Story

 

This email goes out on the eve before we drop our son off for his freshman year of college. His twin sister leaves 10 days later and then everything will be different here. Change. It is what we are guaranteed in life. Sometimes it is bittersweet. Sometimes it's not sweet at all and sometimes, as was our move this summer, it is fantastic. How we work with all kinds of change throughout our lives is what makes all the difference in how we experience this life (and, as I've been contemplating from my teachers, in how we die). I feel more inspired than ever about navigating change with as much grace as possible. For all of you out there also navigating change right now, from the change of seasons to our changing body, I invite you to also get inspired. 

It helps to get familiar with what we habitually do. When faced with change, do we contract, get angry, shut down, distract ourselves, self-medicate, blame, get busy? We have so many options! But which allows us open, to expand and feel gratefully alive? I don't think any of the ones above do that for me. So what is the alternative?

I've been noticing, as I get to know a new area of New Jersey, that I don't like  not knowing what lane I need to be in as I drive around the roundabouts in Morristown. I haven't gotten it right yet. And now, I am walking on new trails in the Morristown parks and I don't like not knowing where they go or which ones I like most.  And, honestly, I don't know what I will feel by the end of this month when both kids are off in their very different directions. Throughout this summer, they surely felt my energy saying "you can go now, by-bye!" And other days they felt my utter attachment. Those are just some of the changes I am navigating, but what I am finding is that as long as I show up to the change, feel what it feels like, and go in the new direction no matter what trepidation I feel, I feel more alive. I discover and delight in new things. I realize that I am capable of finding my way. I get out of my small self and I invite others to grow into who they are becoming.

What change are you experiencing? Can you let yourself be in the change itself? Feel all its nuances? Can you know that this is not the end of the story. There is a lot more to it. When we see it that way, we can be inspired, open, curious. We can rest in knowing that "the next step is not the last step." How does it feel to simply be in this process of this step? You might find that it is actually okay. Feeling whatever it is and not adding on more to it. Change is not the problem. Trying to push away what we are afraid might come next...that's what causes suffering. Becoming is all there is. Moment, after moment, after moment.

Because this subject is such a significant one for us, I am happy to be making it a large part of the theme of the fall segment of A Mindful Life and the fall retreat. Even if you can't join us for those, I will keep sharing insights and invite you to keep observing your reactions to change. See if there is another way of relating to it that might feel easier, friendlier. If you remind yourself that "the story doesn't end here" then what?

🌻
Jean

I Can Keep This Moment Simple

 

This past weekend we returned from our annual Maine vacation. After having just unpacked from a move, it felt odd to be packing bags again to go away for a week, but I also knew it was much needed after a particularly full year. We had just finished the summer segments of A Mindful Life where the focus was on play, Right Effort, and rest. It was time to practice what we explored. How do we rest? What does it really mean? How do we play and why does it matter? And, what kind of effort are we putting out (or not) -- how can we be curious about what effort is beneficial and when it tips over into "wrong" effort? Standing on the edge of the dock with the pond entirely to myself, facing the mountains of Acadia National Park, I felt free. I knew a large part of me was at rest.

What does it mean to you to be at rest? Not asleep, not altered by ingesting any substances, but simply to be at rest? What does that look and feel like? What are the conditions, inside and out, that make it possible? Many of us have never pondered the question, but in doing so, it leads to all kinds of helpful information, so I invite you to sit with, or journal on, the reflections and see what you find. Feel free to share them with me.

One thing that was clear to many of us in this exploration was that to be at rest, we have to be free of worry in the moment. I also learned, after navigating a stressful year and a half, I had become in the habit of worrying. Those seeds had been strengthened, for many good reasons, but now it is taking some active work to put down that habit energy. Recognizing what was happening, that my mind kept finding things to worry about, has already shifted me out of it. The good news is that we can change our habits.

To state the obvious -- staying in the present moment is the way out of worry. Simply meeting what is here as it is means I am not in my thoughts anticipating the future, imagining scenarios, caught in ideas about what might be. Instead, I am experiencing what is directly happening. But it takes awareness and the active choice to stay here. Being aware of breathing helps. To that end, I have come to like this particular meditation I started offering this year where the combination of words helps me to do just that. Some of you have heard it before in a group, but now you can listen to it anytime. (You can find Simple & Steady on my website and on the Insight Timer app. (Also, thank you for your likes and comments on the Insight Timer. They help it to get shared and seen by those who might not know me). The lines are:

I can go slowly/I can be at ease
I can keep this moment simple/I can be steady
I can be open in this moment/I can meet this moment softly

How often do we add on to what is here with thoughts that are not real! We unnecessarily complicate things. We can, instead, choose to keep it simple and be with what's here, as it is. Not adding anything on. Standing on the dock, breathing in the fresh air, seeing the reflection of the pines in the water, feeling the breeze on my skin, goosebumps before diving in. Just that. Even in difficult moments, simply naming what is actually happening and nothing more, we realize that we can meet the moment. And, we can meet it softly, not with a hard edge. We don't have to add hardness to what is already hard.

I have two invitations for you this week, to reflect on play and rest and why they matter (it's bigger than we think and as adults, we need to be reminded) and to try out this Simple & Steady meditation. Help yourself by practicing staying in the moment with a gentle, open energy. We can be steady, not scattered by thoughts. It just feels better than the alternative and we can get better at it. We can change what our mind does. Thank goodness!

Wishing you a restful, play-full (if you can), or for those of you with heavier things on your plate, a week of simple presence without adding on more to what is here.

🌻
Jean