Learning to go Downhill

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.

 

 

 

Does Your Past Still Rule Your Life? 6 Questions to Create More Freedom

It is so easy to become stuck in pain or anger or victimhood.  Are you letting your past dictate your current emotions and state of being?  Although your past helped shape you, it does not define you.  Here are some thoughts to help you leave the past where it belongs – behind you.

Does Your Past Still Rule Your Life? 6 Questions to Create More Freedom.

Taming the Monkey Mind: Day 11

Today is one of those days that deserves a name, a title that anchors it in my mind and lets me retrieve the file at will. I dub today, The Opening.

I have recently developed my own Sunday ritual. My morning begins with a 90 minute power hot yoga class. Now that spring has arrived, I follow this class with a visit to the nearby botanical gardens for an hour or so. It is a perfect combination, as it makes good use of drive time and the plants don’t seem to mind the fact that I am sweaty and stinky from yoga (or at least they are too polite to say so).

This particular yoga class has been a delightful challenge for me. Every week I learn something new about a pose or about myself. It pushes me beyond my comfort zone in so many ways. My biggest obstacle in yoga has always been my hips; they are tight from running, lack of stretching, and my natural biomechanics. But, most of all, they are tight because it is where I hold tension. Those hips are starting to open. As those binding ligaments loosen, I can start to feel my mind relax as well. Stress moves out and acceptance moves in to take its place. My yoga instructor says, “Open hips, open heart.” I think she may be on to something.

I had to smile when I entered the gardens today. On my last visit two weeks ago, The petals on the tulips were closed tight, rigid and upright. Today, they were splayed open, faces towards the sun. Those tulips mirrored my own feelings.

The gardens were beautiful today, full of riotous color and fresh verdant growth. Of course, that also means they were full of onlookers; the quiet solitude of the early spring a thing of the past. I decided to approach my visit a little differently today. I pulled out my phone, interested my headphones, and started a track that contains meditative music that follows a diurnal rhythm. This allowed me to be in my own world and not be aware of the people filling the garden. I took a different route through the planting, maintaining a calm mind. This was my meditation today. I had no goals, no destination. I allowed myself to just be in the space. It was wonderful. Restorative.

I now feel open, face turned towards the sun.

Taming the Monkey Mind: Day 5

I am a planner.  I have always known this about myself, but regular meditation has really highlighted for me.  Almost 100% of my thoughts during my practice go to planning, or even worse, planning to plan. I know that I do this to alleviate anxiety and to try to exert some control over my experiences, but it is also a sly thief of the present moment.

As a teacher, a large part of my job is lesson planning; this serves as sort of a lab, a microcosm, where I can limit some variables and examine others.  I have been more mindful lately about my lesson planning methodology and the outcomes.  I have come to an interesting realization; my most effective plans are also the most spontaneous, the ones that have undergone the least amount of rumination.  The chances of something going awry, not according to plan, seem to be equal regardless of the mental energies expended prior.  Good to know.

Planning for the future is my biggest obstacle to mindfulness.  When I was in the art museum yesterday, I planned several potential solutions if I had trouble getting out of the parking garage, as there was no attendant on duty (Did I have enough cash?  Was it in the right form?  What businesses were open within walking distance where I could get change?).  Each time my mind wandered, I was able to become aware and pull it back to the present, but it was certainly a tenacious companion through the first part of the museum.  Once I was able to come up with a few possible solutions, I was able to let it go and relax.

Planning is a double-edged sword for me: I need a certain amount to let go of the future and enjoy the present, yet too much steals the present away from me.  I suppose the trick is awareness of the planning and learning when its presence has overstayed its welcome beyond its effectiveness.

Taming the Monkey Mind: Days 1 & 2

These first two meditations were simple. In theory. Each one was 20 minutes of focusing on the breath. In practice, not so simple.

I came to a realization. I know that trying to tame my monkey mind through force will backfire, for that primate is stronger than me. I knew that the way to teach it was through patience and practice, but today it finally clicked what that really means.

I have been approaching my mind like I was training a 7 month old puppy to sit. With a dog of that age, there are expectations which lead to frustration when to the dog does not obey. “Don’t you get this already?” you want to scream at the dog.

I realized instead that I need to approach my mind as though I was training a 7 week old puppy to sit. At that age, it would be foolish to have expectations of the dog being able to hold a position for long. Rather, you gently push the puppy’s back end down repeatedly. Patiently. There is no frustration when it gets up and happily waddles over to you. After all, it is a puppy, what can you expect. With good humor, you simply place it back in position. Of course, over time, this young puppy will be able to stay in position for longer and longer periods until it is habit.

English: A puppy with a Kong Wubba, a Kong pro...
Image via Wikipedia

I am going to hold that image in my mind, placing my focus back on my breath as though I was placing a young puppy back in place.  Hopefully, one day my mind can learn to sit still too.