Softness Isn’t Just for Selling Tissues

Posted on by stilllearning2b

When I was a toddler, I used to try to walk through the sliding glass door.  Repeatedly.  The coffee table was simply an apparition that should bend to my will and allow me passage.  Even the bulk of the couch was no match for my will; I assumed that it too could be bested if I tried long enough and hard enough.

As I approached adulthood and learned about the states of matter,I realized that my chances of walking through solids were pretty slim.  However, this did little to temper my will and stubbornness.  These traits saw me through many challenges in my life; I succeeded because I refused to give up.  I worked to make myself stronger, both physically and emotionally to see me through the challenges that life had to offer.  I had perseverance and reliance in droves.

It wasn’t enough. At least not for the long run.

My strength got me through the early days and months of my divorce.  I looked to my fortitude to help me push through what seemed like insurmountable obstacles.

Then, one day, I realized the external obstacles were gone.  All that was left were my interior barriers, and try as I might, I couldn’t simply lower my head and barrel through them.  This was not a  time for strength.

I found  wisdom in the teachings of yoga and meditation, areas that I had been exploring, sensing that they could counter my natural strengths and bring me more into balance.  In yoga, you are taught to find your edge, accept your edge, explore your edge (not to pretend it is not there and continue forward nonetheless, as  I was wont to do).  Pain is not something to  be denied, rather it should be acknowledged and  investigated.  I learned to recognize my edge and slowly, softly shift it.  I became more comfortable just being with the pain, softening my attitude towards it.  The process of healing from the trauma made me softer, and that in turn made me stronger and more whole.

Strength found its balance in softness.  The two together are so much more powerful than each alone.  Try as I might, I still can’t walk through furniture, though.

Taming the Monkey Mind: My Monkey’s Flinging Poo

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Yesterday was a frustrating day at work.  We had to cancel a fun activity for the kids at the last minute due to weather.  Now, I am sure this will come as a complete and utter shock to you, but middle school students do not react well to change.  Especially change that requires they attend classes they thought they were going to miss.  They were upset and they were not afraid to share it.  All day long there was a negative undertone as the kids dealt with their frustrations by grumbling about how unfair it was and the teachers dealt with their frustrations by complaining about the kids.  It was a fruitless and circuitous endeavor that felt impossible to halt.  One thousand eighth graders are a formidable force.  Especially in May.

My monkey mind did not respond well to the negative energy.  Instead of relying upon his prior lessons in mindfulness and breath, he began to run around his cage, shaking the bars, and flinging poo at all who dared approach.  It wasn’t pretty.  I tried to meditate to soothe the agitated monkey mind before I took him out for a planned meeting with friends.  He just pointed and laughed at me.  Apparently this would require a tool of a different sort.

I attended the gathering and had a wonderful time. The monkey was distracted by all of the conversation and he behaved relatively well.  No poo was flung, much to the appreciation of all in attendance.

Although my monkey mind had been somewhat calmed, his agitation was still simmering just beneath the surface.  As mediation had proven itself unable to handle the task yesterday, I decided to try to pacify my monkey with sprints.  As I ran those 100 yards full-out, my monkey mind was silenced, holding on for dear life and unable to screech his disapproval.  They were mini-meditations in intervals.  All I could think about was that moment.  That breath.  That step.  The frustrations and negativity floated away like the dust kicked up from under my feet.  It was a great big cleansing breath for the soul.  And a reminder for my monkey mind that it’s not nice to throw poo.

Female Jogger on Coleman Avenue in Morro Bay, CA

Taming the Monkey Mind: Experimenting on the Monkey

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Mr. Sandmonkey (78/365)

What?  You didn’t think that my ruminations on my monkey mind were going away just because I completed the 28 day challenge, did you?  Of course not; this monkey demands attention and gets ornery if he’s ignored for too long.

First, a disclaimer:  No monkeys were harmed or experimented on in the making of this post.  You can go ahead and back off now, PETA.

When I undertook this meditation challenge, I was most concerned about staying with daily practice.  In the past, I had slid out of the habit faster than my work clothes at the end of a hard day.  But, that hasn’t been the case on the go-round.  I dutifully meditate every day for at least a few focused minutes.  I do it without thinking.  It has become habit.

Get it?

For some reason, this bothers me a bit.  Maybe I’m overthinking this (totally possible given my analytical nature), but it seems like I should be mindful about mindfulness.  Intentional.  For a time, I was experimenting with different guided meditations, various chants, and assorted music.  I did walking meditations and silent meditations.  I feel like I’ve turned it over to autopilot recently.  I tend to go for the same chant generated by the same app, plug in the same headphones, lie on the same spot, and just go.

Is this good?  I am practicing, after all.  I can’t help but feel like I’m slighting my monkey; however.  If I don’t actively pursue different options and continue to read about meditation, am I stunting my monkey’s growth?  Or, by reading and studying, am I distracting myself from what is really important; focusing too much on the “doing” rather than “being”?  Maybe my discomfort with the status quo is arising from the fact that I am still learning to BE.

I think I’ll go meditate.

Namaste.

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Why We Should Be Like Water & Live With Ease

Posted on by stilllearning2b

It is so easy to toughen under stress, to tense and tighten to carry the load.  Perhaps it is time to learn from the water around us.  Water is a most powerful force, able to carve mountains into great valleys, move enormous loads, and traverse even the most inhospitable terrain.  Water is able to this without rigidity, without tension.  It flows around obstacles, slowly wearing them away rather than getting stuck behind the barrier.  Let your inner ice thaw, relax and flow, and you may find the journey to be an easier one.

Why We Should Be Like Water & Live With Ease.

The Water Is Wide

Learning to go Downhill

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Downhill

I’ve never been very good at going downhill.

I was bribed with banana splits to encourage me to learn how to ride a bike.  I was ten.  I still am not comfortable on a bike; the slightest decline inspires panic and usually results in a dismount and walk.  I used to think I could roller blade when I lived in San Antonio.  It turns out that San Antonio is flat.  Really flat.  As soon as I took my “skills” to other less elevation-challenged cities, I realized that I really had no skill at all.  But I did have a really sore behind.  When I drive my standard-transmission car on the downside of a hill, I inevitably downshift beyond what is necessary.  Even while running (look ma, no wheels!), I power up the hills and slow down on the decent.

I’m not sure what it is about hills that causes me pause.  I know I get panicky, afraid that the situation will get out of control.  It seems like any slight miscalculation is amplified through momentum, the snowball gaining size as it tumbles down the slope.  Perhaps I don’t trust progress made that is not under my own power.  Maybe I just need to learn to surrender to gravity.

I’ve tried to address this shortcoming at various times with varying degrees of success (okay, really with varying degrees of failure), but I have never fully committed to the cause.  My recent work on taming my monkey mind has encourage me to attempt a different approach.  Maybe I need to work to calm my mind before the downhill attempt and focus on breathing throughout.  This is where I struggle, as the inevitable increase in speed on a decent makes me feel as though my mind and breathe must also increase so as to keep up.   My brain doesn’t seem to understand that acceleration due to gravity does not have to apply to breath.

Who knows, maybe one day, I will learn to delight in the respite a downhill can provide. Until then, I think I’ll stick to the bunny slopes and stay low to the ground.