Living In Foul Ball Territory

Often, after finishing my workout at the high school field, I will stop at the bleachers by the baseball field to sit down and meditate. I look out over the expanse of playing fields and trees in the distance. It is a place near my home where I feel a sense of spaciousness with an unobstructed sky and quiet. In front of me is a fence and a sign that reads, "Foul Ball Territory." I have come to appreciate this sign as it appropriately reminds me to be awake as I enter meditation. I could imagine these signs posted sporadically everywhere. Aren't we always living in foul ball territory?

At any moment something may come upon us and the best we can do is be aware. Not on guard, but aware so that we can still enjoy the game. In meditation, we are always observing foul balls. They come in the form of a conversation resurfacing from weeks ago, or a feeling that we didn't know was lurking in the background that made its way forward, or an unexpected sound, or sudden anxious thought over...anything. Unlike literal balls falling from the sky, we don't have to react and protect our heads. Instead, the instruction is to observe, to be aware of what is arising, to make note. We give it room to float in and fade away without becoming it, without letting it take over, without adding onto it, without attaching to it, without "doing" something (fixing, changing, pushing it away). This is the practice and it has the potential to relieve us of a great deal of suffering...if we practice it.

I prefer to think that I live in foul ball territory. It keeps me from being shocked by things that go off-kilter. I don't get so attached to things being a certain way or moving in a particular direction. It feels more real to me. I have goals and dreams and directions I want to move in, and I am hopeful, but I can be all of those things without thinking that it will be smooth or that this is way it "should go" or that I can control it. Things often do go other than the way I might like them to and sometimes great and unexpected things come as a result. Most of it doesn't happen in the time frame I was expecting. The universe is much larger than me and the causes and conditions of things are so vast and intricately woven that I must learn to adjust. It's not powerless either because my slight tug on the fabric will have an effect. I am continually learning to welcome it all and to trust in foul balls. As long as I am aware of myself, I can meet what comes with grace. Living with grace to me is living with presence, being able to let go, slow down, offer compassion, live with kindness, and take mindful action.

We have had some significant foul balls landing lately. All things change. Waking up to what is here I can be mindful of what I think, say, and do next. I can choose what energy I am contributing. On the other hand, If my mind and body become one with the whatever is happening, it becomes very hard to have agency over how I feel and what I do next. I become a victim of myself and it never feels good. To avoid getting caught takes practice. We train ourselves to step back from our own mind and observe. The mind can observe the mind. We can watch whatever arises and learn that we can be present to it without reacting. We can feel disappointment, pain, fear, loss, anger and not let it take over. This doesn't just come. It is a training. Like any athlete we do our drills so that when game time comes, we are ready. 

My invitation this week is to form an agreement with yourself to practice meditation everyday. Whether it is 5 minutes, 20, or 30 does not matter. Just commit to sit and while you're sitting, be awake and observe. Meditation is not an idea. It is something we do. It won't be of use unless we do it continually. Find some space from the thoughts that come and feel without reacting because that one feeling, that one thought is not all of you and it will change. Remember that practicing meditation is an act of kindness and we can all use some of that.  Wishing you a good week.

🌼
Jean

Having Mercy

 

We don't always get off to a good start. Some days we roll out of the "wrong" side of the bed and our day starts off rough. Sometimes we start a conversation on the "wrong" note. Sometimes we begin a project and realize we are going about it all "wrong." Sometimes we wish we just hadn't thought, said, or done something. This is what it is to be human. Thank goodness we are all imperfect. And thank goodness, we can always start again.

In meditation we are instructed that when we become aware of having drifted into thought, we get to enjoy coming back to the breath in the present moment and simply begin again. We gradually learn to do that as many times as we need in a single meditation period without any judgement. It is the best practice we have for those more significant moments in life when we don't like the way something has started -- whether it began with our own actions, reactions, or with a dynamic between ourselves and another. We can always start over. We start over every time we forgive, say we are sorry, take a pause and change a direction, or take a new step.

Sometimes we forget and think it's done, finished, finite, messed up for good, irreparable, fixed, and permanent. It's not a very kind way to be with ourselves, or even with others. My invitation this week is to notice those moments when something doesn't feel good and let yourself begin again. Mid-conversation with your child, spouse, parent, co-worker, and the feeling isn't good -- take a pause and start over. You can even say it, if it is appropriate, "can I try this over again?" Maybe you find yourself scrolling on social media when you intended to start a project and suddenly 30 minutes is gone. No big deal. Begin again. And, the most important part is to do it without berating yourself. What is it like to start fresh?  No matter what doesn't feel good, the moment you recognize the uncomfortable feeling, ask yourself, "is there some way I can start this again?" Only you can let yourself off the hook. Staying stuck on it serves no one.

When we allow ourselves the opportunity to start over, we soften that hardened stance we can easily take that is born from fear. When we learn to be generous and have mercy on ourselves, it spills over and we become more willing to let others be imperfect, and have fresh starts, too. 

Wishing you all a week of fresh beginnings whenever you need them. And don't forget, you can always say it aloud and let your imperfect self be seen so that we can all be imperfect together.

🌼
Jean

Dreams

 

The last day of school always held for me a great feeling of spaciousness. Freedom from assignments, tests, papers, and routines. It felt like long held pressure finally allowed to release. The summer opened up time to just be. Time to wander and get bored, to hang out without an agenda, to play and to dream. I didn't know that this summer sense of open, decompressed time would never happen again in the same way once I was out of high school. In adult life, we have to carve it out and we have to learn how to find spaciousness throughout the day in our way of living. By being more present, slowing down, reacting less habitually, listening and speaking more mindfully, we gain a sense of space. And when we have space, we can dream. At any age, we all need to keep dreaming. This summer, let's welcome it.

Can you return to a question kids get asked more than adults: what dreams do you have? In our adult lives, we may not allow ourselves this question anymore. Does it feel like there are too many "practical" needs in the way to dream? I often feel that way. But, our dreams are important. They connect us to what we value, to what brings meaning and purpose. They make us inspired and alive. We need dreams. Our creativity is born in them. There is a reason for them. 

I invite you to take a pause:

1) Ask yourself, "what dream do I currently have that I have not been paying attention to?" Close your eyes, come back to your breath, and wait for as long as is needed for the answer to arise from deep within. Or maybe it will be right there at the surface.

2) Welcome it. Don't worry about how to achieve it, just hold the space for it and honor it. It does have a reason for being there. Enjoy the feeling of having it. It means you are very much alive.

3) Now ask, "what would it feel like if I followed the path of this dream?" Again, don't worry about how to accomplish it, let the feeling it gives you to move toward it inspire your next action. What energy does it produce in your body if you imagine making your dream happen? What color captures the feeling? How would life feel different knowing you followed your dream? 

4) Without making more of it than it is, what one step could you take this week that moves you a little closer to it? Think baby steps -- a phone inquiry, a  page of writing, clearing a physical space in your home to start something, updating your resume, signing up for a class. Say, "yes" to something that sends the signal to yourself that this matters. Your dreams matter. You matter.

🌼
Jean

Creating What's Here

 

While so much is out of our control and we have the challenging task of making peace with letting go or allowing what is here to be here, in every moment, we do have the choice to create and to water the seeds of what is to come.

In Sunday's Night Meditation, I offered up a question we can ask ourselves everyday: "what do I want to create today in my thoughts, in my words, in my actions?" When I talk about creating, it is not for a select few "creative people." We all create. Everyday we create the life that's here, whether you see yourself as a creative person or not. If I honk my horn, if I rush my kids, if I’m impatient with myself, if I’m distracted when I listen, I am  creating energy that is getting sent out and having its own ripple effects. Those ripples generate more thoughts, words and actions in other people and from the earth itself. Equally so, when I am present with someone, listening without interrupting, being generous as I drive, being warm to the salesperson in the store, being compassionate and patient with myself, conscious of what I choose to consume and its effect on the earth that sustains us, I am generating a very different, positively contagious movement in the world.  You can't get more creative and impactful than that!

Just think that each day we get to begin again! We get to walk out the door into our day and meet the world inspired by what we want to see develop, unfold, manifest and then generate that by our presence, by where we direct our mind, by what we say, and how we move. 

My invitation this week is to ask yourself: "what do I want to create today?" Take a moment now and try it on. You might close your eyes, drop back into the rhythm of your breathing, and ask yourself the question. See what words come that capture what you really want to create here. What do you want to see manifest? Describe it to yourself and when you're done describing it, what does it feel like to be inspired by your own ideas of creating this experience we call life? We can ask ourselves this question every day. I welcome you to download the image above if it helps remind you!

Wishing you an inspired week in this interim time between spring and summer.

🌼
Jean

Holding Both Sides

Much has happened since I wrote last week's A Mindful Pause. I began the week offering an exercise to water the seeds of joy in summer. A day later, we witnessed the aftermath of a horrifying school shooting. The week came to a close with Memorial Day weekend, a time when many celebrate the unofficial start of summer, while honoring those who sacrificed their lives for us. All that went on in this one week and Memorial Day itself captures so accurately the paradox of what we have to do in life -- hold both sides of something at the same time. Suffering and joy exist simultaneously and we find our way back and forth between them.

My husband and I have a tradition of going to upstate New York for this long weekend. It is always replenishing as we reconnect with the natural beauty of this earth, slow down, eat food we normally wouldn't eat, and rest. As we turned around to come home this morning, I thought about the pain many people suffered in the last couple of weeks, as well as the reason for this holiday itself and it felt at odds with the feeling of ease and play that this weekend also inspires. But, are they really at odds? When I look more deeply, I know that this is what we must do all the of the time -- simultaneously hold what is painful and what is joyful.

Sometimes people feel guilty for enjoying something when there is so much suffering going on, but this feeling of guilt does little for anyone. And sometimes people only see suffering and don't allow themselves to take in joy, beauty, and goodness. There is another way that is more kind. This way does not push one away so that we can have the other, but instead cultivates a heart and head space large enough to hold them both. Over the weekend, my heart was never far from the pain of the recent shootings AND I could enjoy the walks through the country, savor meals out, take naps, and stop to look at the rain drenched peonies in the garden where we stayed. This allows us to keep going and do the work we do.

We will face more suffering and sometimes it will feel downright frustrating and defeating when some of it can be prevented. Sometimes it will remind us of our complete lack of control. Sometimes it will knock us down for a while until we can get up again and take a next stride forward (which we will do). But no matter what, while all of that difficulty is happening, the ants are still crawling on the peonies for this brief moment they are in bloom, and we get the honor of witnessing their lush opening. When we stop for these wonders, while whatever storm is passing through, we get to be awed and filled with delight, even as our eyes are still wet from our tears.

As the week begins again, my invitation is to pause and see the alternating, maybe even contradictory, feelings that may be present in this moment in time and allow yourself to swim between them without any judgement, without making one more important than the other, without saying one should not exist. Instead, allow yourself to be in all of this experiencing, just as it is. Enjoy what you enjoy. Cry when you cry. Do what you can to contribute to what is beautiful and good. Make room in your house of self for all that arises. 

I'd like to close honoring and thanking all of the men and women of our armed forces who have served for us. Aware of the many lives lost and at risk for our safety and freedom, I send out deep gratitude for what has been and continues to be given. 

Wishing everyone feelings of safety, inspiration, and aliveness in this week. I leave you with the words of Mary Oliver.

🌼
Jean

The Summer Day
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
~Mary Oliver

Trusting What We Can't Yet See

There are things in life that we can't see, but we learn that they are still there even if our eyes can't take them in. The sun is an easy example. It may be hidden behind a solid expanse of gray clouds, but we know it is still there. And then there are the less obvious ones. Our own light is something we might not see in ourselves at times, trusting that, like the sun, it is still there behind the darkness of a mood, or a dulled energy, or lackluster mental or physical state is not always so easy. We might not be able to access it, but the light still resides inside. The absence of someone -- for whatever reason they may be out of our picture -- the person, though we can't see them, is still there, even if in spirit or memory. But being able to trust in the presence of something we can't see takes some learning. To believe in our paths, our visions, ourselves certainly requires trusting in what we can't yet see. 

Young children don't know it. When a parent is out of sight, they easily fear they are gone. As we grow, we learn that they're not gone, just momentarily hidden from view. For people who have experienced repeated abandonment, this access to trust is harder to gain, but still possible to strengthen. How do we trust that the light is still there when we don't feel it or see it? How do we trust that we are still creative when we currently can't access it? How do we trust that we can feel happy, or light, when the current state is heavy or dark? How can we trust that our body, when we have a cold or flu, will get back to "normal" even if we feel terrible in the moment? What do we need to call upon in ourselves to connect to that which we feel separated? This is a great question to feel into and it may not be immediately clear, but if you stay with it, something is likely to come.

This is what came for me:

Remembering The Middle Way. 
When something that is meaningful to me (my health, a person, inspiration) feels gone, I have most likely gone to an extreme. I think it's never coming back. "This time it's real. I'll never feel the same again." These kinds of thoughts are too far in one direction. There isn't room for possibilities, nuances, multiple meanings. Sometimes just noting that I've gotten away from the Middle Way is all I need to shift a little. I don't even have to figure out how to get back. The recognition that I'm going too far is enough to guide me to center. 

Feeling the absence.
When I get caught in the belief that I have "lost" something/someone because I can't see them, the feeling can be so convincing that nothing can shake it and I sink into the hole of absence. In that place, there is nothing to do but to feel the absence and don't make it worse by adding on judgement of the feeling or situation. "The emptiness of whatever it is feels like this..." It may be heavy, drooping, deadened, resigned, bleh. Whatever words describe the place are the "right" words and the experience in my body is simply that -- the current moment experience that will inevitably change.

Taking in the return.
All things change. Most likely what feels lost will come back in sight and when it does return (and I feel somewhat silly for thinking it was completely gone) I can pause and take in what it feels like to have it back. I can let this feeling, in all its detail, sink further into my consciousness. This is what it's like to remember. This is what it feels like in my body (relief, ease, joy, energy, etc.). When I stop and consciously take something in, it has a more lasting impression and I can recall it more easily. Maybe the next time and the time after that the feeling of trust will get stronger and it won't feel so permanent. In this way, I gradually build that muscle of trust. 

It is inevitable for us, at times, to think we have lost our way, our vision, our purpose, our connection to others, to love. It's a natural part of the suffering of life. And when it returns, we get to experience the joy of connection, of finding what was missing. We can't have one without the other. We must experience them both, but all along the way, we can know that the sun is always there.

Asking Questions

 

Do you remember being told many times over in your education to ask questions and being encouraged with the phrase that "there are no stupid questions?" And yet, if you were shy like me, you held the question to yourself or worse, you thought you were the only one that had that question so it must mean something was wrong with you. Just think how many great questions go unasked all the time! What a loss. I love that what I do now is mostly ask questions. For some reason, I am only realizing this today and suddenly I am excited by the realization. Why? (No pun intended).

 A question, when it is asked with genuine openness, can often be a gift to our nervous system because it asks us to move into a place of curiosity. It invites us to stop and listen and to search for understanding. It welcomes us to think and feel for what we need in order to discover (it is generative). Sometimes, it is a shifting question, one that opens up our perspective to hold something in a new way or from another angle. The shifting question can change a negative mind state, to one of possibility, energy or clarity. It can can turn a confused place to one that has understanding or that allows for complexity. A "good" question makes something fresh. It allows us to step back from the subject and get the space we need to see it anew. An insightful question doesn't look for black and white answers and doesn't get bogged down with right and wrong. We ask the question because we believe that there is insight within. It might not happen right away or with one question, but it is there for us to uncover.

How do you ask an insightful, generative, or shifting question? It has to be open and broad enough in scope around the subject. It also has to ask something we don't yet know. Insightful questions aren't smart or clever. Insightful questions often evoke curiosity in us that wasn't present before. They also ask us to listen to our felt sense of the situation, rather than what our logical, practical brain might know about it. When we listen with our gut, with our heart, from what the body knows, we get another way of perceiving what is here.

What are some possible questions that can open us up and inspire curiosity? Here are just a handful that come to mind:

• What is this needing in me? (For example: patience, acceptance, kindness, inspiration, space). 
• Where in my body is this subject held and what does it feel like?
• What assumptions am I making?
• What do I not yet know here that I can let myself not know?
• What would make this easier?
• What matters most to me about this issue?
• What does my higher self, after all these years of experiencing life, know about this?

My invitation this week, whenever you find yourself grappling with something or when you find yourself in any hard emotional or mental state, get curious and ask yourself an open question that causes you to stop and search inside (you might choose one from the list above). Say the question aloud and respond aloud. This will help you find clarity. Slow the question down when you ask it so that you can hear what is being asked. And even just a small insight or opening can go a long way. Asking questions is a very powerful tool we can utilize with ourselves and with each other. (Just be sure when you ask someone else a question, it is truly a question and not a statement, suggestion or opinion disguised as a question).

We never know which question is going to make us go "ah!" Curiosity leads to creativity and we are always creating our lives. Wishing you a beautiful week.

🌷
Jean

How Do I Want To Meet This?

It is not uncommon for us to have to face things in the near future that feel hard, things that we may have to do, or even want to do, even as they produce a feeling of dread or fear. The reason why it feels hard doesn't really matter for what I am offering today. Of course, there is a reason and it likely has useful information for us to know, but even if we don't get into the why, we can ask ourselves a simple shifting question, "how do I want to meet this?" 

I tried this on today with something on my plate and it helped. This thing before me is something I need and want to do, but I lack clarity on the situation I'm stepping into and that uncertainty is uncomfortable. Rather than stew in the discomfort, I asked myself, "Jean, even if it stays unclear, how do you want to meet this occasion?" The answer was clear. Two words came, openness and playfulness. As soon as I said them, I felt a shift. There was a "yes" in response to those words. If I am going to do this thing, I might as well decide how I want to "be" in it. That's up to me. If I don't choose, then I am subject to whatever emotions and ways of being that come automatically and those might not be as pleasant. From here I asked, "well, what would help you to be open and playful?" More answers came that felt clear and "true." What does this process do? It moves me from dread to possibility, from powerlessness to power, from feeling fearful to feeling capable. 

My invitation this week is simple. See if there is anything you are not looking forward to, dreading, fearing, procrastinating about and ask yourself the question: how do I want to meet this? With what energy, insight, clarity of being do you want to show up with? If you are going to do it, you might as well make the best of it. How can you bring your best self to this moment, because it is a precious moment of your life. Hear whole words and sentences in return. Let it inform you and see how it shifts the energy inside. Even if the moment doesn't go as you intend it to, you will have brought your genuine and best self forward to the challenge and that is the most we can ask of ourselves.

I hope this simple shift in perspective comes in handy. It can be used again and again. Please write and let me know if the question shifts something for you!

Wishing you and beautiful first week of May. For all the moms out there and anyone who "mothers" in all the ways we can, I wish you a Happy Mother's Day. We get to celebrate the beautiful role we have been gifted with and honor ourselves for the love and care we give. 

Freedom From Suffering?

It's taken a long time. I think I finally have it, this thing about suffering. No longer will I say in exasperation, "why is this self-doubt or why is this _____ issue still here?" My mind, which wants me to believe I will get to a place where something no longer causes me pain, has been rewired with a deeper understanding that feels much more true. I thought I already had this down, but there are subtle layers of understanding that take time to unpeel. 

There is freedom from suffering and it is not what we often think (and maybe not what we want to hear!). It is the freedom to let suffering happen without thinking something is "wrong" and must be fixed or that it "shouldn't" be there. It doesn't mean we don't do anything to bring relief when we can, but the subtle, yet powerful shift comes when we let go of thinking we shouldn't have to experience it or that there is a way out of it, once and for all.

The way out of suffering is by letting ourselves be in it when it's here. It is contrary to what we often try to do. We think if we understand the issue more (no amount of therapy will remove all suffering), or if we medicate it, smoke, drink, consume it away, we will be free of pain. I wish that were true. Suffering is a part of life.

What does it mean to be in it? It means when we are in the midst of any difficult feeling -- self-doubt, self-criticism, feeling not enough, anxiety, anger, loneliness, we remove the idea that it's not okay. We experience it and remove the judgement. No good, no bad; it may be uncomfortable, but it is what it is,  a sensation, a feeling we can be with and one that will change. 

How do we not get in the way so that suffering can come and go?

1. Awareness. We need to know what's arising to give it room so that our habitual, self-preserving instincts don't kick in to lock the door. Meditation, therapy, self-reflection, integrative body/mind work on a regular basis keeps us aware. It doesn't have to be a big deal, or even an expensive one (groups, free meditations, journaling practices, all can do the trick) -- something that gives us space, time, room to lean in and meet ourselves with compassion, kindness, and presence.

2. Allow the issue to be there as a felt experience, simply something we are experiencing in our body and mind. It will change. "Right now, it feels like this."

3. Compassion. This is the human condition. We are not alone in it. We can offer comfort by reminding ourselves that it's okay to feel this way. What a relief to know that there is nothing wrong with us for having a hard experience. We all do at times and it's not all there is to us.

My invitation this week is when you experience a hard feeling, let yourself be in it and don't add anything more onto it.  The whole experience of living lightens when we allow suffering to exist. Only then can it move through us and we can access all that is not suffering in and around us -- the beauty, the joy, the excitement, the laughter, the inspiration, the feeling of love and connection. Thank goodness because life, in all its complexity, is amazing.

What If We Awoke And Said...

Spring calls us. There are so many invitations it extends to us to stop and be awed. And yet in our busyness, it is so easy to decline the invitation or to miss it altogether. But as I will sometimes say in my meditations, "there is no moment exactly like this moment," there is also no spring exactly like this spring... at this particular age, with these particular conditions, with these people in my life. I am reminding myself not to miss it. These particular tulips found in Princeton over the weekend, as Mike and I went for a drive and a coffee date, made me veer off the sidewalk to say hello. When my kids and I were in Florida visiting my mom last week, there were flowers everywhere. Hibiscus and Bougainvillea and Impatiens could be found on every block. Now I appreciate them, but when I lived there for a brief period of my life, I'm embarrassed to say I stopped noticing them because they were always around. That's not the case in the Northeast and so I can be easily awed every season. Why does it matter that we experience awe?

I'm not a traveler, but I am guessing people who travel are drawn to being awed again and again. To see something fresh that makes us pause, whether it is a landscape, the culture of a place, music/art/dance, architecture, food -- so many things that can strike our senses with a gasp of delight and the feeling of something much greater at work. This matters because it brings us humility and connects us to our innate appreciation for life. 

My invitation this week is to access awe in the everyday moments of our ordinary existence. My 14-17 year old self could not do that in Florida, but I have been training my adult self in this. This is what meditation does. I don't think we can be awed if we aren't present, right? We don't need to travel to have our breath taken away. We can be enraptured by something simply by slowing down, opening our eyes, and letting in a color, a shape, a sound, a movement, a touch, a word. But only we can let it in. No one can do it for us. We could travel and still fail to let in what is before us. We can be loved and fail to let it touch us. It happens all the time and that's okay, too, because when we realize it, we know the difference. Once we know the difference, we can choose. What if we awoke and said, "today, may I make myself available to be awed by what I witness."

While we can't make ourselves feel awe, rather it comes upon us, we can be awake and open to the experience of it by our presence alone. We can choose to see like a photographer sees -- the details, the angles, the shadows, the variations. It's all there for us if we want it.

Wishing everyone an awe-inspired spring week.

🌷
Jean

Hearing Ourselves

Some pieces are coming together. I read, listen, and study from a lot experts in the fields of psychology, spirituality, coaching and I love when what they share goes together and also validates an experience I have. Lately, it is the importance of listening and finding a language for what we are experiencing that keeps getting reinforced.

What I have found is that without being able to decipher my thoughts and feelings into language everything becomes muddled and often stuck. When I can hear myself, and I mean that literally, I gain clarity on what is going on inside me and around me. When we feel stuck in any way -- creatively ( ex. no inspiration), emotionally (feeling bleh), physically (inertia, lack of energy), spiritually (not feeling "connected"), we can choose to stop and take the time to listen to ourselves more deeply and find the words and images that capture what is happening. In making it explicit, we have a greater chance to move in a direction, get back into a sense of flow, and take action. 

Brené Brown's latest book and TV series, Atlas of the Heart, is essentially an encyclopedia of different emotions and feeling states. What I appreciate about it is that she helps us to expand our use of language to accurately describe what we are experiencing (moving beyond basic words that don't give much nuance or specificity). I first learned the importance of this in my 20's through the work of Marshall Rosenberg and Non-Violent Communication where he included in his book a list of emotions and feelings that awakened in me a much greater vocabulary. It was like a whole new world opened up. This was also echoed in the teachings on Mindful Listening and Speech as taught by Thich Nhat Hanh. It was made even deeper by Philosopher, Eugene Gendlin's practice of Focusing, which requires a deep inner listening. It's now more currently echoed in Stephen Porges' Polyvagal Theory which explains why inner listening and communicating is crucial for us to be able to regulate our nervous system. Some of these practices are beyond my scope to explain in any detail, but I have learned something from them all about deepening our emotional intelligence and it has been life changing.

In my own process, I have found that we need both the language and the ability to say it aloud to ourselves and then maybe to others to be able to navigate this experience of living. What does hearing ourselves actually look like? I thought I would share what I do and how it helps me. I welcome you to listen to what it is you do or try these on for size.

• I talk to myself out loud. At the risk of sounding (or looking) a bit crazy, this is one of the main tools I have come to rely on to help me find my way out of places where I feel stuck. I may be home alone, in the shower, in the car and I talk through what's going on as if I am talking to an audience. When I do this, I not only gain clarity, but I tend to hear my inner wisdom respond to what's been said and I gain insight
• Write out what is going on (or draw/paint, sculpt, play). Journaling is the method I use to help unveil and release the inner jumble. With a pen and paper in hand, I have to find the words and meanings. The writing of this, A Mindful Pause, has that effect for me. Your medium may be in some other form. As long as it expresses what you are feeling, it is valuable.
• Sharing with someone who listens well. When we have someone witness our experience and listen to our process of finding our own insight, we have a great gift. Finding that person (or community) that will hold the space, without inserting themselves, is worth searching for. If this is a new idea for your relationship, you can simply ask to try on a practice where you each have 10-20 minutes to share what is alive in you. You get to take pauses, moments of silence, where you wait to see what else is there and your partner won't interrupt, but has their full attention on you. The time doesn't end until the timer stops, even if you sit in silence for a while. Often more comes that we didn't realize was there and, sometimes, our biggest insight may arise in that waiting.

My invitation this week is to give yourself the space to stop, listen, and speak aloud what is true for you in a moment when you feel stuck in the mud, uninspired, empty, or muddled in some way. Hear yourself. We are worth listening to and we have more insight than we often realize if only we can stop and use our language to get clear on what it is.

🌱🌷
Jean

The Courage of Compassion

 

Three incidents come together:

1)  The conversation went like this...
I said to Mike, "I don't think I connected with the contractor."
Mike says, "you what?"
Me, "I don't think he likes me; I couldn't connect with him well."
Mike, "I don't even know what that means...you didn't connect with the contractor? What's wrong with you? Why do you have to "connect" with the contractor?" He tells me to "journal about it," his new way to make fun of my overly sensitive feelings. (To be clear, I know how much he loves my sensitivity, so this always makes me laugh).

2) Coming from someone who is fairly clueless about celebrities...I keep seeing something about Will Smith and Chris Rock today. Something about The Oscars which I didn't even know took place last night. I watch the clip of what happened, get a brief synopsis, and feel deeply saddened. Not about the right/wrong of any of it, but just sad for what we humans feel and go through, the rupture and the need for repair, the hurt feelings, the reactivity we all experience that gets us into trouble, the judgement.

3) I'm driving my daughter to rock climbing when we come upon some road work and the narrow, windy, two-lane road becomes one where the cars have to take turns. Clearly it's our turn to wait, but the car in front of me doesn't recognize that ahead of time so he backs up so that the other cars can go first and slowly backs into a car parked on side. I see and hear the crunch. It's the kind of accident that could happen to anyone and unfortunately will be costly. I drive on as he gets out of the car to survey the damage and I feel his hardship." I keep driving and say, "gosh, I feel so sad for everyone today. That guy with the car, Will Smith, Chris Rock, Jada Pinkett Smith, all the people judging them them all, my feeling that I'm not liked. This living is so hard. The feelings and what we go through. I feel sad for everyone." My daughter, like Mike, doesn't know what to make of me. She has a perplexed smile on her face, but I know she knows what I mean because she said it first..."I feel so bad for him."

And this is just small stuff on a daily basis. I'm not even talking about the larger hardships that are happening like war, hunger, abuse, discrimination. Suffering is suffering. When our heart is open we feel the pain of others and compassion wells up. Compassion doesn't get caught in right and wrong, good or bad. Compassion brings us on the same footing. All trying to do the best we can. All making mistakes, (some more costly than others), in our thoughts, words and actions. All of us feeling the consequences. All of us needing to find forgiveness of ourselves, of others...of ourselves again, of others again.

Growing up, my family always said I was too sensitive. "You're such a baby" my siblings would say. Yes, I guess I am. It used to bother me, but it doesn't anymore. I would much rather be too sensitive if it allows me to love more, if it keeps me humble, if it inspires me to be of service, if it helps me to "connect." It also takes more courage to feel than it does to be armored and thick skinned. If you ever feel too sensitive, I welcome you to celebrate it. We need more of it, not less. Not the kind of sensitivity that blames, judges, or falls apart with worry, but sensitivity that activates compassion for the difficult things that living requires of us.

This week, I invite you to honor the compassion that surfaces in you when you see a mother struggling with her flailing, crying toddler trying to get out of her arms, or when you see someone trip on the sidewalk and they try to stay cool and composed, when you see someone awkward, angry, rushing, frustrated, sad or any other hard human state of being. It's ok to feel it alongside them. Feeling it doesn't make life any less beautiful and wondrous. In fact, it makes it more so.

🌱🌷
Jean