How Much Challenge Is Enough/Not Enough?

 

Just before the retreat, a longtime and dear member of A Mindful Life asked me if I was more comfortable now leading retreats. My response to her was that I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable. I am simply more comfortable being uncomfortable.

I told her that every group I lead each week at the studio is uncomfortable. I have greater tolerance for it and I find that, though it is a challenge, it is worth it. And yes, some parts of leading a retreat or conducting weekly groups are certainly easier. I know the routines, the structure, and the people involved. But I never know how the material I present is going to land—if the questions I am curious about will be the questions others are curious about. And, of course, I can never know what is happening inside each person, which will inform how they receive what I present.

That alone is a challenge we all face daily when we encounter other people. If we are awake and aware, we realize how complex any single interaction is. We have our own feelings, thoughts, perceptions, and needs—and the person before us has their own. That’s a lot! Put a group together and it becomes a complex stew.

I recently came across Dr. Arthur Brooks (Harvard professor, writer, and researcher on the subject of happiness) talking about how feeling a sense of satisfaction comes from doing hard things—and I would add, doing meaningful things. I know in my life that if I want to feel a sense of meaning and purpose, I’m going to have to challenge myself to some degree. And so, I am willing to take on the challenge of facilitating weekly groups where I bring in themes and questions, hoping they will invoke reflection, curiosity, and insight in those who contemplate them.

Sometimes it feels like a daunting task to do this every week for years on end. As I approach my 51st year, what I am starting to discover is how much of a challenge is enough. I’m starting to realize that the groups and retreats I lead are enough of a challenge. I don’t want any more—at least, not right now. My body is starting to indicate clearly when I ask myself to stretch any further and take on a new request. I’m seeing that I need to say “no.”

It’s not that I’m just afraid. There is fear, of course, but it’s not a lack of courage or confidence in the face of it. It’s an understanding that what I currently have before me is enough of a challenge. My entire adult life has been about facing challenges—about being outside my comfort zone more often than not. I'm guessing yours has been, too? I know I am ready now to have a little more ease and just enough challenge to feel a sense of satisfaction.

My invitation this week is to reflect on your own life and the current degree of challenge in it. Is there enough challenge so that you feel engaged and alive, and feel a sense of satisfaction in meeting it? Is there too much challenge, where the pressure is relentless and it might be showing signs—in your body, your sleep, your joy? Is there anything you would like to add, or anything you would like to take away, to find a more balanced middle ground?

As always, I welcome your thoughts and insights. Wishing you a beautiful week filled with just the right amount of challenge—and much joy.

Warmly,
Jean

Ask This One Question Often

 

Last week, 14 brave souls attended my retreat at the Dharmakaya Center for Wellbeing in the Catskills of New York. From Friday evening through Sunday afternoon we explored aspects of growing old, the inevitability of the body's decline, the fact that we will eventually be separated from everything we love, and that what we do here, in body and mind, is all we truly own. They are not subjects for the weak of heart, yet our lives are often driven by the fear of them, which makes them so necessary to reflect on. The unaddressed fears of our impermanence lead to stress, sickness, unhealthy relationships, all kinds of addictions, endless material consumption, and, yes, wars. Being willing to have these conversations with oneself and with others deflates the monster out of them. Like a blow-up Halloween decoration, once unplugged, it simply falls away and loses its fright. We did a bit of that unplugging on the retreat. I want to share one simple prompt from the weekend with all of you. It's one that I think makes us more alive, which is ultimately the point of it all.

Inspired by the work of the late Stephen Levine and his book A Year To Live, (of which there are courses on the subject should you be interested), I invited everyone to keep asking themselves, throughout the weekend, this simple question: if this were the last time I could do this thing, how would I do it? If this was the last time I could take a shower, look into this person's eyes, go to bathroom on my own, taste this blueberry, walk this path, how would I do it? I can't think of anything that brings us into greater presence than that contemplation. Not to be used as a threat, but as an awakening. I likened it to imagining doing something for the first time. Experiencing something fresh and being delighted. Why not ask it all the time and be delighted moment after moment. We get to do this thing called living. The hard moments and the pleasant ones. What an amazing thing.

My invitation this week is that simple. Throughout the day, ask this of yourself, "if this were the last time, how would I...?" And then enjoy it. Gratitude will naturally spring forth. See the monsters deflate as you feel full from your experiences all day long. And when you forget, as you likely will, you get to ask it again.

Wishing you many happy treats this week.

Jean