My friend Terri and I have been reading about equanimity together. We have read from both Donald Rothberg's book and Shaila Catherine's book. Both authors give the assignment to rest in the moments of inconvenience and discomfort. At the dentist's office this week, I had a lot of opportunity to practice equanimity in this way.
Next week I will be in DC for one of the State Teacher of the Year meetings. While the entire concept of the trip is exciting, it is also very nerve-wracking. Meetings with the president, with Senator Reid, and with Mrs. Biden all sound exciting while also completely terrifying. The trip also means a week away from my kids and my classroom - the two loves of my life.
Some of the trip will be engaging and fun without the terrifying: a black-tie dinner, a tour of the monuments, training on my new SMART board, and participating in two round-table discussions, one hosted by the Department of Education and the other by NASA with the Smithsonian. Plus, my mom is going with me, and I am looking forward to spending some one-on-one time with her.
Now that my departure date is less than a week away, my first instinct is to just forget the trip, stay home, play with my kids, and teach. But I can't do that. The trip is paid for, and these opportunities will not present themselves in my lifetime again. And I want to go. In a hand-wringing, stomach-fluttering sort of way.
So it occurred to me that this trip is going to provide lots of fodder for my equanimity practice. There will be lots of moments of inconvenience (waiting for the president, talking to aides in place of the senator, and lots of public transportation) and moments of discomfort (trying to compose myself around people I normally see only on CNN, feeling out of place amongst people I don't know, and trying to find my way around).
Instead of looking at this trip with dread, I have decided to see it as an opportunity to grow both in my profession and my practice. My goal is to rest in those moments of inconvenience and discomfort; to remember that suffering is either clinging, aversion, or delusion; and to simply be at ease with not being at ease. In the meantime, I hope to learn a lot and to make an impression, tiny as it may be, on those who make education policy.
I hope to post pictures next week. Cheers!
Showing posts with label Buddhism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Buddhism. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
More Reverb 2010 Questions
Here's another one: Body Integration. This year, when did you feel the most integrated with your body? Did you have a moment where there wasn’t mind and body, but simply a cohesive YOU, alive and present? (Author: Patrick Reynolds)
At first, I thought I would just pass on this prompt, but when I think about it, I would have to say there have been times when I was working out when I had this cohesive ME experience. And there have been a few times cuddling with my kids or in the classroom when things seem so natural and at ease.
My next step is more about inaction than action. At least personally it is. I want to scale back, to focus on the people in my life and to not always be so concerned with accomplishing something. In the long run, reading a book with my kids is more valuable than accomplishing the task of emptying the dishwasher or folding laundry. But, dang, that is so much easier to say than do. At some point, someone has to empty the dishwasher or fold the laundry.
Or maybe not.
This has been hard for me to answer, but I think the Dharma is something I continue to be grateful for. I know it sounds cheesy, but what I have learned and what I am hoping to someday more successfully practice are concepts that affect every moment of my life. Compassion, for example, applies whether I am in my kitchen, in my car, in my classroom, or in the boardroom. On the cushion or off, the teachings have affected my life and effected change in my life.
How do I express gratitude? Well, not well enough. I do say a little thank you for this opportunity to meditate at the end of every meditation. But there is so much more I could be doing to express this gratitude from saying thank you to those who have made it possible for me to learn and practice to giving back more to my community to making more of an effort to live what I am learning.
So with that, thank you for this opportunity to reflect on what is important in my life.
At first, I thought I would just pass on this prompt, but when I think about it, I would have to say there have been times when I was working out when I had this cohesive ME experience. And there have been a few times cuddling with my kids or in the classroom when things seem so natural and at ease.
Action. When it comes to aspirations, it’s not about ideas. It’s about making ideas happen. What’s your next step? (Author: Scott Belsky)
My next step is more about inaction than action. At least personally it is. I want to scale back, to focus on the people in my life and to not always be so concerned with accomplishing something. In the long run, reading a book with my kids is more valuable than accomplishing the task of emptying the dishwasher or folding laundry. But, dang, that is so much easier to say than do. At some point, someone has to empty the dishwasher or fold the laundry.
Or maybe not.
Appreciate. What’s the one thing you have come to appreciate most in the past year? How do you express gratitude for it? (Author: Victoria Klein)
This has been hard for me to answer, but I think the Dharma is something I continue to be grateful for. I know it sounds cheesy, but what I have learned and what I am hoping to someday more successfully practice are concepts that affect every moment of my life. Compassion, for example, applies whether I am in my kitchen, in my car, in my classroom, or in the boardroom. On the cushion or off, the teachings have affected my life and effected change in my life.
How do I express gratitude? Well, not well enough. I do say a little thank you for this opportunity to meditate at the end of every meditation. But there is so much more I could be doing to express this gratitude from saying thank you to those who have made it possible for me to learn and practice to giving back more to my community to making more of an effort to live what I am learning.
So with that, thank you for this opportunity to reflect on what is important in my life.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
» Consumerism vs. minimalism | mnmlist.com
On the mnmlist web page, the author has written an article on how to be more minimalist in your approach to shopping. I like his ideas:
» Consumerism vs. minimalism mnmlist.com:
"Learn to be more conscious of my impulses when I'm ready to buy something."
For the first few months of no shopping, I found myself accidentally paying for impulse buys before I realized that it conflicted with my resolution. The more often I practice low impact months, the easier it becomes to avoid impulse purchases.
"Learn to pause, and to breathe, to let the physical desire wane."
Being mindful of the physical sensations I get from shopping not only allow me to make more appropriate shopping choices, but it also is a practice in everyday mindfulness and awareness of the body. I get lots of benefits from being aware of the thrill I get from shopping. Before I started this, I wasn't even aware that I got any thrill from shopping.
"Force myself to wait, if the purchase isn't an absolute necessity."
That's what my entire month forces me to do. It's amazing how much I think I need when I am in the store and seeing color and shape. At home, it doesn't seem so necessary.
"Let myself think about it, and analyze whether it's something I really need to buy. Often the answer is no. "
I am still working on this.
"Slowly improve upon this, over time, as I always make mistakes."
One of my newer mottos is to cut everyone, myself included, some slack.
So which of these quotes most speaks to you?
» Consumerism vs. minimalism mnmlist.com:
"Learn to be more conscious of my impulses when I'm ready to buy something."
For the first few months of no shopping, I found myself accidentally paying for impulse buys before I realized that it conflicted with my resolution. The more often I practice low impact months, the easier it becomes to avoid impulse purchases.
"Learn to pause, and to breathe, to let the physical desire wane."
Being mindful of the physical sensations I get from shopping not only allow me to make more appropriate shopping choices, but it also is a practice in everyday mindfulness and awareness of the body. I get lots of benefits from being aware of the thrill I get from shopping. Before I started this, I wasn't even aware that I got any thrill from shopping.
"Force myself to wait, if the purchase isn't an absolute necessity."
That's what my entire month forces me to do. It's amazing how much I think I need when I am in the store and seeing color and shape. At home, it doesn't seem so necessary.
"Let myself think about it, and analyze whether it's something I really need to buy. Often the answer is no. "
I am still working on this.
"Slowly improve upon this, over time, as I always make mistakes."
One of my newer mottos is to cut everyone, myself included, some slack.
So which of these quotes most speaks to you?
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Acquisition Versus Living
I have been reading a lot about consumption patterns, simplifying, and intentions. Recently, I stumbled upon the following quote from Zen Habits:
How to Want Very Little: "What you need to do is learn to get lost in activities rather than acquisition. Instead of being strung along by the latest gizmo, learn to transplant that process into an outlet such as writing, music or drawing. Focus on doing interesting things rather than buying interesting things."
It is true that most Americans easily get lost in acquisition. I see it in my own family on a regular basis. It isn't that we even want the item so much as we want the high we get when we acquire something new. You can read about this in the book Hooked!: Buddhist Writing on Greed, Desire and the Urge to Consume.
In the communities surrounding both of my hobbies, stashing is encouraged. "Stashing," it should be noted, is nothing but a euphemism for hoarding. In the sewing world, we encourage one another to stash (hoard) fabric; in the paper crafting world, we encourage one another to stash (hoard) paper and embellishments. I found myself spending more time shopping for fabric, patterns, books and crafting items than I was spending time on the actual crafts themselves. Completely ridiculous, really, but it was my pattern. My low-impact months have taught me to spend less time in the crafting stores, more time in my crafting space doing crafts. More time with my kids, less time shopping for them. More time reading less time in Borders.
I know you're probably thinking that I have stated the obvious, but when you mindlessly go about life, you miss the obvious, which is why I think committing to a month of no shopping is a worthy endeavor. It forces mindfulness.
So that is my goal for this low-impact month - to really focus on doing more things I enjoy and less time in stores.
Happy new year!
How to Want Very Little: "What you need to do is learn to get lost in activities rather than acquisition. Instead of being strung along by the latest gizmo, learn to transplant that process into an outlet such as writing, music or drawing. Focus on doing interesting things rather than buying interesting things."
It is true that most Americans easily get lost in acquisition. I see it in my own family on a regular basis. It isn't that we even want the item so much as we want the high we get when we acquire something new. You can read about this in the book Hooked!: Buddhist Writing on Greed, Desire and the Urge to Consume.
In the communities surrounding both of my hobbies, stashing is encouraged. "Stashing," it should be noted, is nothing but a euphemism for hoarding. In the sewing world, we encourage one another to stash (hoard) fabric; in the paper crafting world, we encourage one another to stash (hoard) paper and embellishments. I found myself spending more time shopping for fabric, patterns, books and crafting items than I was spending time on the actual crafts themselves. Completely ridiculous, really, but it was my pattern. My low-impact months have taught me to spend less time in the crafting stores, more time in my crafting space doing crafts. More time with my kids, less time shopping for them. More time reading less time in Borders.
I know you're probably thinking that I have stated the obvious, but when you mindlessly go about life, you miss the obvious, which is why I think committing to a month of no shopping is a worthy endeavor. It forces mindfulness.
So that is my goal for this low-impact month - to really focus on doing more things I enjoy and less time in stores.
Happy new year!
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Learning Exp
Gwen Bell - Big Love in a Small World - Blog - The Best of 2009 Blog Challenge: "December 24 Learning experience. What was a lesson you learned this year that changed you?"
I have learned a lot about happiness this year, about moving on and letting go, about handling anger, about coaching the mind to be happy even when all you're doing is sitting on a cushion.
One concept stands out, however. I discovered the concept of neural plasticity. It's a scientific concept that has far reaching implications in everyday lives. I have blogged about it before, but it's the idea that although the physical structure and makeup of the brain affect our thoughts, as it turns out, our thoughts can affect the physical structure and makeup of the brain.
Now, you might be thinking that this is a concept, not a real lesson, but it was the Rick Hanson retreat where I learned the applicable lesson. Hanson had us meditate on something that made us happy and to focus on that happiness. The effect was euphoria. Really. True euphoria. It didn't last long for me, but at that moment, it was like a new world cracked open to me and new possibilities were born.
At that moment, it became very clear to me just how powerful the idea of neural plasticity can be.
If there was one thing I would shout from the tops of buildings, it would be, "People! You do not have to be a victim to your biological makeup . . . well, neurologically speaking, anyway." Ok. Maybe the tops of buildings isn't the most effective form of relaying this message, but I want every American to be exposed to this concept. We are a culture of anitdepressants. I have no qualms with people taking antidepressants. This is more about a cultural pattern than an individual struggling with depression. But we need to know that there are things we can do to affect the way our brains function. Powerfully affect the way our brains function. And if we keep at it, momentum comes into play, and that positive force forms more positive energy.
Although I have experienced some very stressful situations this year, I have been happier than I have ever been for many reasons, but largely because I opened myself up to the possibility of true happiness and the idea of myself being that true source of happiness.
It rocked my world.
I feel one other lesson must be addressed. Last spring, when *things* were happening at work and I was experiencing a great deal of anger, I listened to one of Gil Fronsdal's podcasts on anger. Fronsdale works at both the San Francisco Zen Center and Spirit Rock Meditation Center. I don't remember if it was from Audio Dharma or Zencast, but I do remember him saying that paradoxically, the best time to work with anger is when you're not angry. So that is what I did. Once the situation dissipated, I spent three months working with anger - paying attention to it, looking into its causes, and practicing with skillful methods of dealing with it. I still have work to do, but I grew a lot during that three months.
So thank you to Rick Hanson, Gil Fronsdal, and the Buddha for these lessons, which will undoubtedly resonate in 2010.
I have learned a lot about happiness this year, about moving on and letting go, about handling anger, about coaching the mind to be happy even when all you're doing is sitting on a cushion.
One concept stands out, however. I discovered the concept of neural plasticity. It's a scientific concept that has far reaching implications in everyday lives. I have blogged about it before, but it's the idea that although the physical structure and makeup of the brain affect our thoughts, as it turns out, our thoughts can affect the physical structure and makeup of the brain.
Now, you might be thinking that this is a concept, not a real lesson, but it was the Rick Hanson retreat where I learned the applicable lesson. Hanson had us meditate on something that made us happy and to focus on that happiness. The effect was euphoria. Really. True euphoria. It didn't last long for me, but at that moment, it was like a new world cracked open to me and new possibilities were born.
At that moment, it became very clear to me just how powerful the idea of neural plasticity can be.
If there was one thing I would shout from the tops of buildings, it would be, "People! You do not have to be a victim to your biological makeup . . . well, neurologically speaking, anyway." Ok. Maybe the tops of buildings isn't the most effective form of relaying this message, but I want every American to be exposed to this concept. We are a culture of anitdepressants. I have no qualms with people taking antidepressants. This is more about a cultural pattern than an individual struggling with depression. But we need to know that there are things we can do to affect the way our brains function. Powerfully affect the way our brains function. And if we keep at it, momentum comes into play, and that positive force forms more positive energy.
Although I have experienced some very stressful situations this year, I have been happier than I have ever been for many reasons, but largely because I opened myself up to the possibility of true happiness and the idea of myself being that true source of happiness.
It rocked my world.
I feel one other lesson must be addressed. Last spring, when *things* were happening at work and I was experiencing a great deal of anger, I listened to one of Gil Fronsdal's podcasts on anger. Fronsdale works at both the San Francisco Zen Center and Spirit Rock Meditation Center. I don't remember if it was from Audio Dharma or Zencast, but I do remember him saying that paradoxically, the best time to work with anger is when you're not angry. So that is what I did. Once the situation dissipated, I spent three months working with anger - paying attention to it, looking into its causes, and practicing with skillful methods of dealing with it. I still have work to do, but I grew a lot during that three months.
So thank you to Rick Hanson, Gil Fronsdal, and the Buddha for these lessons, which will undoubtedly resonate in 2010.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Best of 2009: Startup, Moment of Peace, and Challenge
Gwen Bell - Big Love in a Small World - Blog - The Best of 2009 Blog Challenge: "What's a business that you found this year that you love? Who thought it up? What makes it special?"
Can't say I can think of anything. Not one. I have stores I love. My favorite being County Purr Farm, my local scrapbooking store, where I have spent hours with my closest girl friends creating and talking. I also love The Purple Avacado, although I can count on one hand how many times I crossed the purple threshold in 2009. I will always enjoy spending time at my local JoAnne's and the local Mill End even if the past two years have seen a drastic decrease in my time at the sewing machine. There's something about walking down aisles of fabric, creating in my head all sorts of projects - a skirt from purple jersey for me, blue and white PJs for my son, a lady bug dress for my daughter. I get to sew even if the products never materialize. As weird as it may seem, I love my neighborhood Walgreen's - I print my beloved photos there, and you can get great college-ruled, purse-sized notebooks for a dollar! I still love New York and Company for clothes that actually fit me and Gap Body for the most comfie undies known to womankind.
None of these count, however, because they are not new to me. So I'm tapping out of this one.
For my catch-up entry, Ms. Bell asks about a moment of peace. This year is a good one for me. I would say I reached a deeper state of concentration than I have before and that I have reached levels of peace more profoundly than I have before, but it seems that writing about them is impossible without making it sound trite and cliche. Let me just say that my three-month focus on practice, my retreats, and Focused and Fearless really helped me progress in my practice.
My best challenge is easy, but what I just wrote had to be deleted because it would not be professional of me to post about it in a public setting. I'll sum it up to say budget cuts suck, and sometimes being the person representing others can be incredibly stressful - knowing that if you blow it, you're blowing it for thirty people, not just yourself, adds to the stress immensely. It was a challenge in managing anger, in leading, in communicating, and in dealing with disagreement. We lost. But I grew a lot in the process.
Can't say I can think of anything. Not one. I have stores I love. My favorite being County Purr Farm, my local scrapbooking store, where I have spent hours with my closest girl friends creating and talking. I also love The Purple Avacado, although I can count on one hand how many times I crossed the purple threshold in 2009. I will always enjoy spending time at my local JoAnne's and the local Mill End even if the past two years have seen a drastic decrease in my time at the sewing machine. There's something about walking down aisles of fabric, creating in my head all sorts of projects - a skirt from purple jersey for me, blue and white PJs for my son, a lady bug dress for my daughter. I get to sew even if the products never materialize. As weird as it may seem, I love my neighborhood Walgreen's - I print my beloved photos there, and you can get great college-ruled, purse-sized notebooks for a dollar! I still love New York and Company for clothes that actually fit me and Gap Body for the most comfie undies known to womankind.
None of these count, however, because they are not new to me. So I'm tapping out of this one.
For my catch-up entry, Ms. Bell asks about a moment of peace. This year is a good one for me. I would say I reached a deeper state of concentration than I have before and that I have reached levels of peace more profoundly than I have before, but it seems that writing about them is impossible without making it sound trite and cliche. Let me just say that my three-month focus on practice, my retreats, and Focused and Fearless really helped me progress in my practice.
My best challenge is easy, but what I just wrote had to be deleted because it would not be professional of me to post about it in a public setting. I'll sum it up to say budget cuts suck, and sometimes being the person representing others can be incredibly stressful - knowing that if you blow it, you're blowing it for thirty people, not just yourself, adds to the stress immensely. It was a challenge in managing anger, in leading, in communicating, and in dealing with disagreement. We lost. But I grew a lot in the process.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
2009: Practice
The year 2009 was a year of practice for me for many different reasons. Last spring, I was tested and had to do my best to apply the Buddhist teachings in a somewhat confrontational setting. It was a challenge to apply compassion and right speech when I really just wanted to scream, cry, and . . . well, you know, throw a temper tantrum. I wasn't perfect, that's for sure. But I did handle some things more maturely than I normally would have, and I think I did have compassion for someone whom at the time I didn't want to feel anything by anger toward. It was an excellent couple months of the more practical form of "practice."
I did two low-impact months of no shopping, which is always an excellent form of awareness practice.
This summer, I followed through on a 90-day focus on practice during which I meditated every day, attended a day-long concentration retreat, read articles, listened to podcast dharma talks, read a dharma book, and tried to live by the ten grave precepts. I didn't feel like I was accomplishing much at the time, but in retrospect, my practice grew tremendously.
I also felt that in the summer, largely a result of my daily meditations, I was able to reach new levels of concentration. It was good because it spurred my interest more in the meditation or "practice" side of Buddhism, not just the daily life stuff. My meditations at two of the day-longs I attended were the quietest and most concentrated I have ever been.
I feel I am applying my practice more to daily life now; I'm seeing the fruits of my efforts. I am more equanimous in general - not getting as ruffled as quickly. Sure, I still have a long journey ahead of me, but the past year has been a year of flourishing practice for me.
In 2010 I hope to attend a residential retreat and to engage in another 90 days of a focus on practice. I also plan on doing two more low-impact months and attending as many day-long retreats as possible.
So here's to a great year of practice and hopefully a full 2010.
I did two low-impact months of no shopping, which is always an excellent form of awareness practice.
This summer, I followed through on a 90-day focus on practice during which I meditated every day, attended a day-long concentration retreat, read articles, listened to podcast dharma talks, read a dharma book, and tried to live by the ten grave precepts. I didn't feel like I was accomplishing much at the time, but in retrospect, my practice grew tremendously.
I also felt that in the summer, largely a result of my daily meditations, I was able to reach new levels of concentration. It was good because it spurred my interest more in the meditation or "practice" side of Buddhism, not just the daily life stuff. My meditations at two of the day-longs I attended were the quietest and most concentrated I have ever been.
I feel I am applying my practice more to daily life now; I'm seeing the fruits of my efforts. I am more equanimous in general - not getting as ruffled as quickly. Sure, I still have a long journey ahead of me, but the past year has been a year of flourishing practice for me.
In 2010 I hope to attend a residential retreat and to engage in another 90 days of a focus on practice. I also plan on doing two more low-impact months and attending as many day-long retreats as possible.
So here's to a great year of practice and hopefully a full 2010.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
This weekend . . .
. . . was a blast. I got to attend one of the two single-day retreats by Donald Rothberg. He is one of my favorite teachers because he incorporates interactive activities to the day. While I felt that the second day's topic - Keeping Cool In The Fire: Becoming More Skillful With Inner Or Outer Conflict - was more personally relevant, I was only able to attend the Saturday retreat on Emptiness and Compassion. As it turns out, it was a happy accident, as I found the day enlightening and relevant.
I had previously decided the Buddhist concept of emptiness was beyond me, that okay - if I ever have the opportunity to go deep into practice, that I might get the chance to understand this topic somewhat vaguely.
But alas, Donald made the topic very clear. And this abstract concept is paradoxically kind of simple. He defines emptiness as no self without interdependence, meaning that we as individuals and our experiences do not exist without the myriad of other elements that play into/build upon the "self" and its experiences.
I try to come up with examples, but they fall flat, so let's just leave it at that. I feel very grateful to have had the opportunity to spend the day with such loving, compassionate people and to learn so much in so short a time. Plus, I meditated today for forty minutes, which I never do at home. It was a breeze. The day-longs definitely further my practice.
Meanwhile, DH and I attended a party sans kids, which we haven't done in YEARS. It was a blast hanging out with friends where none of us had to change a diaper, settle a dispute, leave at 7 p.m. for bedtime, or wipe a nose.
Today was productive. The kids spent the night at my MIL's house, which meant I was able to work on Rosalind's costume, clean my car, do laundry, go to lunch DH and meditate all without interruption.
I feel very lucky to have the life I have.
I had previously decided the Buddhist concept of emptiness was beyond me, that okay - if I ever have the opportunity to go deep into practice, that I might get the chance to understand this topic somewhat vaguely.
But alas, Donald made the topic very clear. And this abstract concept is paradoxically kind of simple. He defines emptiness as no self without interdependence, meaning that we as individuals and our experiences do not exist without the myriad of other elements that play into/build upon the "self" and its experiences.
I try to come up with examples, but they fall flat, so let's just leave it at that. I feel very grateful to have had the opportunity to spend the day with such loving, compassionate people and to learn so much in so short a time. Plus, I meditated today for forty minutes, which I never do at home. It was a breeze. The day-longs definitely further my practice.
Meanwhile, DH and I attended a party sans kids, which we haven't done in YEARS. It was a blast hanging out with friends where none of us had to change a diaper, settle a dispute, leave at 7 p.m. for bedtime, or wipe a nose.
Today was productive. The kids spent the night at my MIL's house, which meant I was able to work on Rosalind's costume, clean my car, do laundry, go to lunch DH and meditate all without interruption.
I feel very lucky to have the life I have.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Happiness, Meditation and the Brain
Disclaimer: In this blog post I cover some very complicated issues presented at a retreat. I hope that I come close to the target as I try to explain them. I am not a neural scientist and do not fully understand the concepts I relay, but I have done my best is formulating my understanding of them.
When I went shopping for a faith a couple years back, the NPR Science Friday episode that covered the Dalai Lama and scientists studying happiness caught my attention. The show documented a connection between Buddhist practice and happiness. I couldn't have been more intrigued, so I started looking into Buddhism and eventually decided to dive in and start my practice.
Part of my practice is attending our sangha's day-long retreats. The recent Rick Hanson retreat covered meditation and the brain. Part of that talk included a discussion on happiness.
Hanson talked about synaptic patterns and how they form. He explained that "those that fire together wire together," meaning that when a person has repeated thought patterns, synapses fire; those firings form a connection, thereby forming a neural pattern. For example, a person who is ruminating about an argument she had with her partner is solidifying that negative pattern through her rumination. Then she sees her partner, and those negative synapses are triggered, and a negative attitude toward her partner is stimulated.
One of the more intriguing elements of this is that negative thought processes "wire together" much more quickly than do positive thought processes. Hanson pointed out to us that this serves a biological, evolutionary purpose. A primate living in the wild must pay more attention to those things that could kill her than those things that bring her pleasure. It's a matter of survival.
Hanson's point in discussing this is that we need to consciously focus more on the positive thoughts to encourage our brains to think positively. Because negative patterns formulate more quickly and more easily than do positive, we must work harder at developing the positive. Meditation, specifically metta meditation, does this. When a meditator sits and focuses on loving, kind feelings associated with others, even toward a person with whom she has difficulties, she is solidifying that positive synaptic association. The result is a happier and kinder person.
As part of our practice that day, Hanson lead us through a guided meditation using the following steps:
One of the things I so dearly love is science, particularly medical science. I love to read about new discoveries in science. At this retreat Hanson illustrated just how far the field of neural science has come when he said that in the last twenty years we have doubled our understanding of the brain and that scientists expect that to double again in the next twenty years.
The biggest discovery has been our understanding of the relationship between the brain and the mind: no longer do scientists believe that the brain only affects the mind, but they now also believe that the mind affects the brain, as illustrated in the "those that fire together wire together" concept I mentioned above.
That is huge. Everyone should know this.
Yes, hormonal imbalances can affect mood, but we also now know that thought patterns can affect biological functions that happen in the brain, thereby either encouraging or discouraging happiness.
This is good news: We have some control over happiness.
When I went shopping for a faith a couple years back, the NPR Science Friday episode that covered the Dalai Lama and scientists studying happiness caught my attention. The show documented a connection between Buddhist practice and happiness. I couldn't have been more intrigued, so I started looking into Buddhism and eventually decided to dive in and start my practice.
Part of my practice is attending our sangha's day-long retreats. The recent Rick Hanson retreat covered meditation and the brain. Part of that talk included a discussion on happiness.
Hanson talked about synaptic patterns and how they form. He explained that "those that fire together wire together," meaning that when a person has repeated thought patterns, synapses fire; those firings form a connection, thereby forming a neural pattern. For example, a person who is ruminating about an argument she had with her partner is solidifying that negative pattern through her rumination. Then she sees her partner, and those negative synapses are triggered, and a negative attitude toward her partner is stimulated.
One of the more intriguing elements of this is that negative thought processes "wire together" much more quickly than do positive thought processes. Hanson pointed out to us that this serves a biological, evolutionary purpose. A primate living in the wild must pay more attention to those things that could kill her than those things that bring her pleasure. It's a matter of survival.
Hanson's point in discussing this is that we need to consciously focus more on the positive thoughts to encourage our brains to think positively. Because negative patterns formulate more quickly and more easily than do positive, we must work harder at developing the positive. Meditation, specifically metta meditation, does this. When a meditator sits and focuses on loving, kind feelings associated with others, even toward a person with whom she has difficulties, she is solidifying that positive synaptic association. The result is a happier and kinder person.
As part of our practice that day, Hanson lead us through a guided meditation using the following steps:
- Setting intention
- Relaxing the body
- Focusing on feelings of safety
- Evoking positive emotions
- Absorbing the benefits
One of the things I so dearly love is science, particularly medical science. I love to read about new discoveries in science. At this retreat Hanson illustrated just how far the field of neural science has come when he said that in the last twenty years we have doubled our understanding of the brain and that scientists expect that to double again in the next twenty years.
The biggest discovery has been our understanding of the relationship between the brain and the mind: no longer do scientists believe that the brain only affects the mind, but they now also believe that the mind affects the brain, as illustrated in the "those that fire together wire together" concept I mentioned above.
That is huge. Everyone should know this.
Yes, hormonal imbalances can affect mood, but we also now know that thought patterns can affect biological functions that happen in the brain, thereby either encouraging or discouraging happiness.
This is good news: We have some control over happiness.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Rick Hanson Retreat
I spent Saturday at a daylong retreat hosted by Dharma Zephyr Insight Medidation Community and taught by Dr. Rick Hanson. Hanson is a psychologist who is also a Buddhist practitioner and a contributor to recent research on the brain and meditation. (His web page is wisebrain.org. I suggest everyone check it out.)
The day's talk gave me so much to think about that I don't even know where to start on this blog. After some thought, I decided to start with a theme I focused on a while back as a result of Hanson's newsletter for wisebrain.org: not taking things personally.
A while back, one of the DZ members suggested our sangha do a year of practice, where each one of us takes one suggestion from the Wise Brain bulletin and focus on that one element. I adopted the challenge to not taking things personally.
I think it's important to start this discussion with a caveat on my experience: not taking things personally is like asking myself to never get angry. For me, it is pretty much an impossible task. I did take things personally, but there were moments in which I was able to contemplate my response to a certain stimuli and to try to not take it personally.
On the superficial level, not taking things personally can do wonders for your relationship by establishing a peace that might not otherwise exist. When my husband, for example, asked me if I understood the essay he gave me, I reminded myself to not take things personally. I avoided the normal, negative response I have to his concerns that I don't understand something intellectual. What could have been another terse moment between the two of us turned into a short, not unpleasant discussion.
On a deeper level, not taking things personally is letting go of the self, a Buddhist teaching that not only boggles my mind, but often evades it as well. I do not exist because - really - what am I? As Rick Hanson's partner with the Wise Brain web page, Dr. Rick Mendius explains, ". . . [T]here is no self to be injured, but only the arising and passing of states of mind." If I remember that I am not insulted, but rather there exists an emotion of feeling insulted, I can separate from it. This is good practice at beginning to understand the concept of no self, for me anyway.
A better method of understanding of no self would have been to attend the second day-long retreat. Sunday's topic was No Self and the Brain. From what I hear, it was fascinating.
I could write for a year on topics that emerged in the retreat, but I think I'll cover two more: happiness and brain chemistry. To be continued . . . .
The day's talk gave me so much to think about that I don't even know where to start on this blog. After some thought, I decided to start with a theme I focused on a while back as a result of Hanson's newsletter for wisebrain.org: not taking things personally.
A while back, one of the DZ members suggested our sangha do a year of practice, where each one of us takes one suggestion from the Wise Brain bulletin and focus on that one element. I adopted the challenge to not taking things personally.
I think it's important to start this discussion with a caveat on my experience: not taking things personally is like asking myself to never get angry. For me, it is pretty much an impossible task. I did take things personally, but there were moments in which I was able to contemplate my response to a certain stimuli and to try to not take it personally.
On the superficial level, not taking things personally can do wonders for your relationship by establishing a peace that might not otherwise exist. When my husband, for example, asked me if I understood the essay he gave me, I reminded myself to not take things personally. I avoided the normal, negative response I have to his concerns that I don't understand something intellectual. What could have been another terse moment between the two of us turned into a short, not unpleasant discussion.
On a deeper level, not taking things personally is letting go of the self, a Buddhist teaching that not only boggles my mind, but often evades it as well. I do not exist because - really - what am I? As Rick Hanson's partner with the Wise Brain web page, Dr. Rick Mendius explains, ". . . [T]here is no self to be injured, but only the arising and passing of states of mind." If I remember that I am not insulted, but rather there exists an emotion of feeling insulted, I can separate from it. This is good practice at beginning to understand the concept of no self, for me anyway.
A better method of understanding of no self would have been to attend the second day-long retreat. Sunday's topic was No Self and the Brain. From what I hear, it was fascinating.
I could write for a year on topics that emerged in the retreat, but I think I'll cover two more: happiness and brain chemistry. To be continued . . . .
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Equanimity Part I (Petie the Dog)
My sangha is reading Shaila Catherine's Focused and Fearless. At the moment, we are reading a chapter on equanimity. While I knew I had work to do with this practice, until we read this chapter and discussed it, I had no idea how much work I had to do with equanimity. So for that reason, I titled this Equanimity Part I, as I'm sure there will be more on the topic.
A little over a week ago, I made the difficult decision to put my dog down. It was difficult for the obvious reason: no one wants to say goodbye to a beloved pet. But on top of that, I felt in some way that I had betrayed him by taking him to his death. Logically, I know I did the right thing by him. Emotionally, I feel like Brutus. There is more to the story, but I'll spare you all the details that will surely mean more to me than to you.
While some people have monkey mind, the mind that jumps from thought to thought, for about a week I had monkey life. I made feeble attempts at resisting my grief and guilt. For three days, I spun my wheels until they almost feel off, dreading the quiet that did not fail to bring me to my knees. I did not meditate for a week, knowing that a quiet moment alone with my thoughts would involve lots of crying. I panicked and pushed myself to fatigue.
And here's where the equanimity, or lack thereof, comes into play. When the sangha talked about equanimity last week, it became clear to me that I had not handled his death with any kind of equanimity.
This kind of surprised me. A few months ago, my dad warned me about my dog's health and how I would have to make that hard decision sooner than later. I shrugged, assured him I was aware of that fact, and moved on. I almost felt guilty that the thought didn't make me feel sad. I knew my dog had lived a long life of sixteen years, and although I do not know what his first seven were like, I do know that the last nine have been pretty kosh.
So when the grief of saying goodbye to my dog doubled me over and sent me into a whirlwind of frantic attempts at escaping emotion coupled with bouts of sobbing, I was a little taken aback.
Equanimous, foschwamanous. I was, quite simply, a mess.
Monday night, we talked about equanimity, and I realized how much I clearly lacked. I left feeling disappointed in myself and moped. Then the next morning it occurred to me that maybe the best place to start with equanimity is in the realization that I lack it. Maybe seeing it for what it was rather than engaging in self-degrading talk would be a good start for establishing some equanimity in my life. So here's my start: I see that I will benefit from working on equanimity. It is what it is.
A little over a week ago, I made the difficult decision to put my dog down. It was difficult for the obvious reason: no one wants to say goodbye to a beloved pet. But on top of that, I felt in some way that I had betrayed him by taking him to his death. Logically, I know I did the right thing by him. Emotionally, I feel like Brutus. There is more to the story, but I'll spare you all the details that will surely mean more to me than to you.
While some people have monkey mind, the mind that jumps from thought to thought, for about a week I had monkey life. I made feeble attempts at resisting my grief and guilt. For three days, I spun my wheels until they almost feel off, dreading the quiet that did not fail to bring me to my knees. I did not meditate for a week, knowing that a quiet moment alone with my thoughts would involve lots of crying. I panicked and pushed myself to fatigue.
And here's where the equanimity, or lack thereof, comes into play. When the sangha talked about equanimity last week, it became clear to me that I had not handled his death with any kind of equanimity.
This kind of surprised me. A few months ago, my dad warned me about my dog's health and how I would have to make that hard decision sooner than later. I shrugged, assured him I was aware of that fact, and moved on. I almost felt guilty that the thought didn't make me feel sad. I knew my dog had lived a long life of sixteen years, and although I do not know what his first seven were like, I do know that the last nine have been pretty kosh.
So when the grief of saying goodbye to my dog doubled me over and sent me into a whirlwind of frantic attempts at escaping emotion coupled with bouts of sobbing, I was a little taken aback.
Equanimous, foschwamanous. I was, quite simply, a mess.
Monday night, we talked about equanimity, and I realized how much I clearly lacked. I left feeling disappointed in myself and moped. Then the next morning it occurred to me that maybe the best place to start with equanimity is in the realization that I lack it. Maybe seeing it for what it was rather than engaging in self-degrading talk would be a good start for establishing some equanimity in my life. So here's my start: I see that I will benefit from working on equanimity. It is what it is.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Right Speech and Telemarketers
So, I'm working on right speech with my friends again. (Yes, I know this topic seems a little hackneyed, but it's a never-ending area of improvement for me.) And I've gotten tons of calls recently from telemarketers. (I don't know how we got off the no-call list. Note to self: Fix that.)
You know the drill: They call. You answer. They butcher your name and begin the long drawn-out, breathy script they recite with every phone call, making sure to continue speaking quickly so that you can't say a word. You interrupt, tell them no thank you, and they say, "I understand that ma'am, but . . . ."
The point where my irritation kicks in varies depending on my mood. Irritation, nevertheless, eventually kicks in, and what I want to say is certainly not right speech: something that sounds a lot like my two-year old when he's over-tired, teething, and being smothered by his sister.
But I've actually been working on how I respond to these people. First of all, I try to remember that these people are trying to make a living, and in these economic times, it could by any of us sitting there selling cleaning supplies over the phone. It's not exactly the caller whom is the object of my frustration, but rather the person who decided that their company ought to call people and that there ought to be a script that makes it very difficult for people to say no, namely little old ladies who've been taught all their lives that they should never, ever be rude, lest they be seen as not-ladylike. (That's another blog unto itself.)
But just because a person has called me up and not immediately accepted my decline does not make it wise to be unkind. Saying no - to anyone, not just a telemarketer - and doing so skillfully requires equanimity, patience, and mindfulness.
I'm not quite there yet. If you happen to be there, tips are always welcome. In the meantime, I'll welcome the calls as an opportunities to practice wise speech.
You know the drill: They call. You answer. They butcher your name and begin the long drawn-out, breathy script they recite with every phone call, making sure to continue speaking quickly so that you can't say a word. You interrupt, tell them no thank you, and they say, "I understand that ma'am, but . . . ."
The point where my irritation kicks in varies depending on my mood. Irritation, nevertheless, eventually kicks in, and what I want to say is certainly not right speech: something that sounds a lot like my two-year old when he's over-tired, teething, and being smothered by his sister.
But I've actually been working on how I respond to these people. First of all, I try to remember that these people are trying to make a living, and in these economic times, it could by any of us sitting there selling cleaning supplies over the phone. It's not exactly the caller whom is the object of my frustration, but rather the person who decided that their company ought to call people and that there ought to be a script that makes it very difficult for people to say no, namely little old ladies who've been taught all their lives that they should never, ever be rude, lest they be seen as not-ladylike. (That's another blog unto itself.)
But just because a person has called me up and not immediately accepted my decline does not make it wise to be unkind. Saying no - to anyone, not just a telemarketer - and doing so skillfully requires equanimity, patience, and mindfulness.
I'm not quite there yet. If you happen to be there, tips are always welcome. In the meantime, I'll welcome the calls as an opportunities to practice wise speech.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Happy New Year
It's January 1, the first day of 2009. Here's a little bubbly for you all to enjoy.
I know I should be reflective and thinking about goals and whatnot for the upcoming year, but I'm not. I usually totally dig that kind of thing. Just not feeling it this year for some reason.
For the following year, I know I want to continue my practice, to meditate more and work on being more mindful on a daily basis.
I joined a 365 Flikr group, so I'm hoping to do a pic a day for the year. I found that when I've done this in the past for a month, I have improved my photography skills and gotten some killer photos. Let's face it, some of the best photos don't come from holidays and birthdays.
And of course, I want to lose weight and get healthier. Yada, yada, yada.
Happy New Year to you and yours. :)
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Back from Flu Hell
Because our sangha recently discussed suffering, we had the homework assignment of paying attention to suffering. Instead of thinking I am suffering, we could think There is suffering or This is suffering. I spent the week contemplating this thought and was surprised how often I saw suffering. Now, for the non-Buddhists out there, you should know that suffering is a general term that applies to true suffering, dis-ease, discontentment, desire, and so-on. It's a pretty broad spectrum, and the idea is that suffering is caused by attachment. When what we are attached to isn't present, we suffer. So of course the trick is to ditch the attachment and thereby ditch the suffering.
I "suffer" a lot, but I don't suffer much at all. So I spent a week thinking about how I am attached to a lot of different things.
Then my son got the stomach flu. Then I got the stomach flu. Then the husband got the flu, although not the stomach flu. It was a beast, let me tell you. And my perspective on suffering has changed. There's nothing like a good 48 hours of pure misery to remind yourself that life is pretty darn good the other 363 days of the year. It was a great lesson in appreciating the simple things in life as well as in letting go of attachment.
I "suffer" a lot, but I don't suffer much at all. So I spent a week thinking about how I am attached to a lot of different things.
Then my son got the stomach flu. Then I got the stomach flu. Then the husband got the flu, although not the stomach flu. It was a beast, let me tell you. And my perspective on suffering has changed. There's nothing like a good 48 hours of pure misery to remind yourself that life is pretty darn good the other 363 days of the year. It was a great lesson in appreciating the simple things in life as well as in letting go of attachment.
* * *
Thanksgiving is coming, and the local Unity Church is hosting a inter-faith Thanksgiving thanks-giving. I'm looking forward to it. My girlfriends and I are going. We rarely get to do anything like this together, since we are all of different faiths - Catholic, Buddhist, Methodist, Episcopalian. I'm looking forward to a little girl's night out and a little thoughtful thanksgiving at the same time.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Mindfulness, metta, and politics
For the last year, I have worked on being mindful and compassionate in my political dealings. I have strong feelings and been quite involved in the political process, but I have also worked to be aware of my prejudices and loving of all people with different beliefs.
I have recently met my match. Palin's nomination is laughable. Palin's claim that she is qualified to run this country because you can see Russia from an island in Alaska is just weird. Palin's lack of knowledge on the Bush doctrine is scary. Palin's condescension towards Obama's "community organizer" days is insulting.
The Republican party's hypocritical and duplicitous sudden concern for women's rights is embarrassing. The Republican party's claim that the media is bullying Palin when just nine months ago she basically said Hilary had to toughen up is frustrating.
The Republican party's campaign strategy is working.
I can take McCain as president. But I need to turn off the television, put away the newspaper and cancel the Newsweek subscription because I've already lost equanimity and because I'm having trouble feeling love and compassion for these people when I know that under all that hockey mom lipstick, Palin is just another working mom like me who may have different politics, beliefs and values than do I.
I guess I would usually compare myself to a Labrador, while Palin compares herself to a pit bull. Except that I feel like the lab being mauled by the neighbor's pit bull.
I guess I'm back from my blogging hiatus.
I have recently met my match. Palin's nomination is laughable. Palin's claim that she is qualified to run this country because you can see Russia from an island in Alaska is just weird. Palin's lack of knowledge on the Bush doctrine is scary. Palin's condescension towards Obama's "community organizer" days is insulting.
The Republican party's hypocritical and duplicitous sudden concern for women's rights is embarrassing. The Republican party's claim that the media is bullying Palin when just nine months ago she basically said Hilary had to toughen up is frustrating.
The Republican party's campaign strategy is working.
I can take McCain as president. But I need to turn off the television, put away the newspaper and cancel the Newsweek subscription because I've already lost equanimity and because I'm having trouble feeling love and compassion for these people when I know that under all that hockey mom lipstick, Palin is just another working mom like me who may have different politics, beliefs and values than do I.
I guess I would usually compare myself to a Labrador, while Palin compares herself to a pit bull. Except that I feel like the lab being mauled by the neighbor's pit bull.
I guess I'm back from my blogging hiatus.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
The Engaged Spiritual Life
I've finished Hunger of Memory by Richard Rodriquez, which I enjoyed, and am now reading Donald Rothberg's book The Engaged Spiritual Life: A Buddhist Approach to Transforming Ourselves and the World. I'm not very far along, but am loving it. I only wish I had someone to read it with, as Rothberg gives exercises that he suggests you do with another person or a group.
He explains that this book is about "both inner and outer transformation." He explains that "our real work is the same whether we attend to ourselves, to our families, to our communities, or to a larger society and ecosystems."
Right now I'm reading the section on the Five Precepts. He focuses first on three of the precepts: the first (non-harming), the second (not taking what is not given), and the fourth (wise speech). Then he groups together the third (not abusing sexuality) and the fifth (not abusing substances).
His approach is systematic in that he takes the precepts and looks at them in three different domains: the personal, the relational, and the collective domains. So for the first precept, he asks us to take three steps that are taking inventory of our patterns, paying attention to these patterns, and then making changes to these patterns in how we live our lives.
Although I'm reading on, I am going to take the exercises one week at a time, which means that this week I will focus on the first precept of nonharming. The actual precept is avoiding killing, but as Rothberg suggests, all the precepts have an implied positive action, not just a negative pattern to avoid. This means that the first precept is about not only not killing and not harming, but also working to assure others are not harmed, in short, taking action to prevent others from harming others.
So I'm off to take inventory.
Metta.
He explains that this book is about "both inner and outer transformation." He explains that "our real work is the same whether we attend to ourselves, to our families, to our communities, or to a larger society and ecosystems."
Right now I'm reading the section on the Five Precepts. He focuses first on three of the precepts: the first (non-harming), the second (not taking what is not given), and the fourth (wise speech). Then he groups together the third (not abusing sexuality) and the fifth (not abusing substances).
His approach is systematic in that he takes the precepts and looks at them in three different domains: the personal, the relational, and the collective domains. So for the first precept, he asks us to take three steps that are taking inventory of our patterns, paying attention to these patterns, and then making changes to these patterns in how we live our lives.
Although I'm reading on, I am going to take the exercises one week at a time, which means that this week I will focus on the first precept of nonharming. The actual precept is avoiding killing, but as Rothberg suggests, all the precepts have an implied positive action, not just a negative pattern to avoid. This means that the first precept is about not only not killing and not harming, but also working to assure others are not harmed, in short, taking action to prevent others from harming others.
So I'm off to take inventory.
Metta.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Take Refuge in the Sangha
I've been thinking lately about how grateful I am that I have the local sangha that I have. The people are wonderful, and having the community to share a set of beliefs and discuss practice with is invaluable. I know there are those out there who do not have that luxury, that books and web pages and podcasts are the closest they can get to a sangha. I'm sure that is better than nothing and suffices quite well. Nevertheless, I feel quite lucky and am very grateful for having these good people in my world.
John Travis retreat
I went to a day-long retreat yesterday that was taught by John Travis from Mountain Stream. I loved the retreat and really enjoyed John's teachings. His approach to meditation teaching is a lot less prescriptive. Instead of telling us to use this technique or that technique, he simply said to try to stay present and relax. (He expanded on this, of course.) As a result, even though we meditated for a large part of the day, I never once felt that good-God!-when-will-the-bell-chime? panic I sometimes feel when a meditation has gone beyond what I am accustomed to.
The topic for the day was The Liberation Teachings. The day was mostly meditation, not as much verbal instruction. He'd give us some small tidbits and then have us meditate. Then at the end of the day, he talked for about an hour. By the end of the day, I felt a lot more at peace, a lot happier, and definitely ready to meditate some more.
If you get a chance to attend a John Travis retreat, I highly recommend it. He is a gentle spirit.
The topic for the day was The Liberation Teachings. The day was mostly meditation, not as much verbal instruction. He'd give us some small tidbits and then have us meditate. Then at the end of the day, he talked for about an hour. By the end of the day, I felt a lot more at peace, a lot happier, and definitely ready to meditate some more.
If you get a chance to attend a John Travis retreat, I highly recommend it. He is a gentle spirit.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Why I Meditate
The other day, I was telling someone about the day-long retreat I had been to for meditation. This person said to me, "I have a good form of meditation that's easier than yours."
"Oh? What is it," I asked, biting into his baited statement.
"It's real easy. I get up in the morning, walk into the bathroom and take a Prozac. That's it. All done."
I was confused.
Then it occurred to me that this person thinks I meditate as a form of psychotherapy, or in his case psychotropic therapy. However, that's not why I meditate.
About a year and a half ago, I started exploring different faiths, reading a little about Buddhism, Hinduism, Taoism, Christianity, Judaism, and Unitarianism. It didn't take long for me to fall in love with the teachings of Buddhism. So I started reading more.
I discovered that meditation is pretty much an essential element of Buddhism. I hesitated to learn to meditate, not really understanding what meditation is or why people do it and how it realted to the Dharma. But I gave it a try. I'm not a great meditator now, but a year ago, I could only meditate for five minutes. I now meditate for anywhere between 20 and 40 minutes.
After I started meditating regularly, I discovered that meditation does, in fact, have some psychotherapeutic benefits in that it makes me calmer and happier. But really, that's a pleasant side effect, not the real reason I meditate. I learned that meditating is a form of training the mind so that I can be more mindful during life. It's analogous to an athlete who lifts weights to increase his performance on the track, the cheer leading squad or the football field. The muscle is developed and therefore allows for better performance. I train my mind so that throughout the day I can be more in control of my mind and therefore my actions. I perform better.
Sure, meditation might equate to Prozac for me, but I never intended it to.
A friend of mine meditates, too, but her meditative practice is quite different than mind. Not lesser or better, just different. She developed her practice called Hemi-sync with this place called The Monroe Institute. According to The Monroe Institute's web page, "Hemi-Sync® is a patented audio guidance technology that works quite simply by sending different sounds (tones) to each ear through stereo headphones. The two hemispheres of the brain then act in unison to 'hear' a third signal – the difference between the two tones." The two tones, as I understand it, put the brain into the same wavelengths that scientist say people in deep meditation experience.
The experiences that follow, from what I understand, are dreamlike or mystical, often resulting in out of body experiences (OBE).
This would explain why my husband asks me every Monday night when I return from my meditation group, "How was levitation?" When I meditate, I don't have mystical experiences, and I'm not seeking that. I don't want to levitate, speak to God, or have an OBE.
I just want to be a better person.
"Oh? What is it," I asked, biting into his baited statement.
"It's real easy. I get up in the morning, walk into the bathroom and take a Prozac. That's it. All done."
I was confused.
Then it occurred to me that this person thinks I meditate as a form of psychotherapy, or in his case psychotropic therapy. However, that's not why I meditate.
About a year and a half ago, I started exploring different faiths, reading a little about Buddhism, Hinduism, Taoism, Christianity, Judaism, and Unitarianism. It didn't take long for me to fall in love with the teachings of Buddhism. So I started reading more.
I discovered that meditation is pretty much an essential element of Buddhism. I hesitated to learn to meditate, not really understanding what meditation is or why people do it and how it realted to the Dharma. But I gave it a try. I'm not a great meditator now, but a year ago, I could only meditate for five minutes. I now meditate for anywhere between 20 and 40 minutes.
After I started meditating regularly, I discovered that meditation does, in fact, have some psychotherapeutic benefits in that it makes me calmer and happier. But really, that's a pleasant side effect, not the real reason I meditate. I learned that meditating is a form of training the mind so that I can be more mindful during life. It's analogous to an athlete who lifts weights to increase his performance on the track, the cheer leading squad or the football field. The muscle is developed and therefore allows for better performance. I train my mind so that throughout the day I can be more in control of my mind and therefore my actions. I perform better.
Sure, meditation might equate to Prozac for me, but I never intended it to.
A friend of mine meditates, too, but her meditative practice is quite different than mind. Not lesser or better, just different. She developed her practice called Hemi-sync with this place called The Monroe Institute. According to The Monroe Institute's web page, "Hemi-Sync® is a patented audio guidance technology that works quite simply by sending different sounds (tones) to each ear through stereo headphones. The two hemispheres of the brain then act in unison to 'hear' a third signal – the difference between the two tones." The two tones, as I understand it, put the brain into the same wavelengths that scientist say people in deep meditation experience.
The experiences that follow, from what I understand, are dreamlike or mystical, often resulting in out of body experiences (OBE).
This would explain why my husband asks me every Monday night when I return from my meditation group, "How was levitation?" When I meditate, I don't have mystical experiences, and I'm not seeking that. I don't want to levitate, speak to God, or have an OBE.
I just want to be a better person.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Anger and Irritation
I know I need to work with anger better. When I've been meditating regularly, I find I am much more in control of my anger with the outside world, but I still struggle with my frustration with my kids.
Thich Nhat Hanh writes in Being Peace: "When anger comes up, we are determined to not do or say anything, but to practice mindful breathing and mindful walking and acknowledge, embrace, and look deeply into our anger. We will learn to look with the eyes of compassion at those we think are the cause of our anger."
Sitting at my computer and typing that or reading it in the morning with a cup of coffee, I think, "Absolutely. That's not so hard."
Then my daughter wakes her brother and me up from our naps by screaming about the pincher bug in her room and then tries to trap her brother in her room to play camping while he screams non-stop and she tells me that she has to have him in her room because it's dark and they're camping and I can feel a temper tantrum coming (from her, not me) and I start to feel aggitated about needing to avoid a temper tantrum and I find myself overwhelmed with frustration.
Or we have this conversation: "Mom, what's a cabeedie."
"I don't know."
"What's a cabeedie?"
"I don't know."
"It's what Mailbox said on Blue's Clues. What is it? "
"I don't know."
"What IS it?"
"I don't know."
"MOM, WHAT IS IT?!?"
This conversation continues until I get irritated, to which she responds with the usual attitude, which irritates me more.
I don't hurt her. But I use a harsh tone with her. And I can often see how my tone escalates the situation. I use a harsh tone. Then she uses a harsh tone, which I respond to with an even harsher tone. Things continue until she's in time out and hysterical, and I'm no longer frustrated, but angry.
That first moment is a turning point. If I can only catch myself at that moment and be mindful instead of reactive. I mean, I am the grown up here, right?
I think I'll work on this the next couple of days: being mindful when I feel irritation coming on. It's harder than it sounds, but it's worth a shot.
The irony: A time out occured during the writing of this blog entry. DD was yelling at her brother for knocking over her "tent." **sigh** I think I need to go be present with my kids.
Metta.
Thich Nhat Hanh writes in Being Peace: "When anger comes up, we are determined to not do or say anything, but to practice mindful breathing and mindful walking and acknowledge, embrace, and look deeply into our anger. We will learn to look with the eyes of compassion at those we think are the cause of our anger."
Sitting at my computer and typing that or reading it in the morning with a cup of coffee, I think, "Absolutely. That's not so hard."
Then my daughter wakes her brother and me up from our naps by screaming about the pincher bug in her room and then tries to trap her brother in her room to play camping while he screams non-stop and she tells me that she has to have him in her room because it's dark and they're camping and I can feel a temper tantrum coming (from her, not me) and I start to feel aggitated about needing to avoid a temper tantrum and I find myself overwhelmed with frustration.
Or we have this conversation: "Mom, what's a cabeedie."
"I don't know."
"What's a cabeedie?"
"I don't know."
"It's what Mailbox said on Blue's Clues. What is it? "
"I don't know."
"What IS it?"
"I don't know."
"MOM, WHAT IS IT?!?"
This conversation continues until I get irritated, to which she responds with the usual attitude, which irritates me more.
I don't hurt her. But I use a harsh tone with her. And I can often see how my tone escalates the situation. I use a harsh tone. Then she uses a harsh tone, which I respond to with an even harsher tone. Things continue until she's in time out and hysterical, and I'm no longer frustrated, but angry.
That first moment is a turning point. If I can only catch myself at that moment and be mindful instead of reactive. I mean, I am the grown up here, right?
I think I'll work on this the next couple of days: being mindful when I feel irritation coming on. It's harder than it sounds, but it's worth a shot.
The irony: A time out occured during the writing of this blog entry. DD was yelling at her brother for knocking over her "tent." **sigh** I think I need to go be present with my kids.
Metta.
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