we are faced with a simple choice:
either we resolve not to become attached
to people and things,
or we decide to love them even more fiercely.
Amélie Nothomb, The Character of Rain
This blog offers reflections on the development of mindfulness practice in personal and professional life, on Psychology and on Spirituality, as well as news about Mindfulness Activity in the Geneva area.
I've discovered there are only two modes of the heart. We can struggle, or we can surrender. Surrender is a frightening word for some people, because it might be interpreted as passivity, or timidity. Surrender means wisely accommodating ourselves to what is beyond our control. Getting old, getting sick, dying, losing what is dear to us, is beyond our control. I can either be frightened of life and mad at life - or not. I can be disappointed and still not be mad. Stopping being mad - when I can - translates, for me as being compassionate - to myself as well as to other people.
You are young. So you know everything. You leap into the boat and begin rowing.
The afternoon of life is just as full of meaning as the morning; only its meaning and purpose are different. C.G. Jung
Hopkins says it well. Spring fills us with joy and with the energy of life. He believes it is because we link back to the freshness of life in the Garden of Eden, when everything was optimistic and without deceit or disappointment. Maybe. It certainly gives one a new energy as all around we see nature reawakening. We know we have to leave the Garden. But moments there refresh us. We will not spoil it by thinking ahead.
Increasingly research is showing how the mind plays a significant part in how our body feels. This is of interest to us who are working with stress. It also helps us understand how mediatation, simply sitting and observing the mind, can be an effective way of working with difficult emotions and events.
The weather has been strange these past days. Friday started with rain, then the temperature dropped and we had snow on the mountains. Then in the afternoon it was like Spring again with the sun bursting out and the temperature rising to 15 degrees. It was like four seasons in a day. And we had no control over it and can just watch as the different conditions come and go.
Today Holy Week starts, the most significant week in the Christian understanding of the human condition and the understanding in it of how we can be happy. Central to that, and to this week, is the place of forgiveness and reconciliation. Somehow it seems crucial to becoming fully human as this week's story reveals:
At every moment we are all in mid-process.
As the Dalai Lama reminds us, everyone wants to be happy. The problem is seeking it in ways that may not lead to full contentment. Our mindfulness practice is based on the understanding that deep contentment is first of all related to the process of getting to know the mind, and only secondly due to external factors, such as our job, or wealth or even our relationships. My work with people brings me into contact with a lot of different experiences of relationships. Today's society places a great emphasis on happiness coming from finding the right relationship, placing a huge burden on an aspect of life which was never designed to carry it. It becomes one of the main carriers of our hopes for contentment, this search to find someone who will through whom I will be complemented and completed.
I visited Paris recently and while there spent time in the Orangerie, standing before Monet's beautiful series of Water Lily paintings. What struck me most is the different emotions contained in each painting, from tranquil to agitated, light to dark, as each canvas reflected a different period of the day or different season of the year. I looked on them as a reflection on light, on the passing of time.
The purpose of life is to be happy
We may never find ourselves in situations of such danger that our lives are endangered; yet anguish and pain are undeniable aspects of our lives. None of us can build walls around our hearts that are invulnerable to being breached by life. Facing the sorrow we meet in this life, we have a choice: Our hearts can close, our minds recoil, our bodies contract, and we can experience the heart that lives in a state of painful refusal. We can also dive deeply within ourselves to nurture the courage, balance, patience, and wisdom that enable us to care.
The reason why silence is so disturbing to us [is this]: As soon as we begin to become silent, we experience the relativity of our ordinary everyday mind. With this mind we measure our space and time coordinates, we calculate probabilities and count up our mistakes and successes. It is so useful and familiar a state of mind that we easily think it is all there is to us: our whole mind, our real selves, our full meaning.
All though our lives, we experience loss, in little and big ways. Some we acknowledge explicitly and grieve for. Others we may not have had the time or space to grieve for and they can come up later on in life, and attach themselves onto some other loss. There can also be the gradual loss of our hopes and dreams, or the plans we have invested in our work, or the direction of our lives.
For the last few months our cat Barney would sit by me as I sat meditating. I always found it a comfort as he sat there, looking on. He brought to meditation, as he brought to our lives since he arrived at our doorstep some thirteen years ago, a gentleness and strong support. He also could rest in himself and sleep, with one eye on me, without any concern or worry, without needing to wonder where his life was going.
A Native American grandfather was speaking to his grandson about violence and cruelty in the world and how it comes about. He said it was as if two wolves were fighting in his heart. One wolf was vengeful and angry, and the other wolf was understanding and kind. The young man asked his grandfather which wolf would win the fight in his heart. And the grandfather answered, “The one that wins will be the one I choose to feed.”
We all have different ideas as to how to get to happiness. Mindfulness practice helps us see that it can be increased if we stop trying to hold onto our idea of what life should be like, and instead move towards what life actually is like. This means we have to let go, including letting go some of some ideas we have about happiness and the conditions we feel must be fulfilled in order for happiness to come.
Beannachtai na Féile Padraig oraibh go léir! Happy Saint Patricks Day
The reason we practice is not seen on the meditation cushion, but in the rest of our life. We practice so that we can better accept the present moment, where our life actually is, rather than always imposing conditions: it must be this way or that way, or we can’t be happy. These conditions can lead us to look elsewhere for happiness, and not realize that the all we need is already in our lives right now.
In the Old Testament we are told that the sins of the fathers are visited on their children. At first this seems a judgmental relic from a different culture, a way of explaining inherited illnesses or chance misfortune. However, there can be another sense, which accords with what can be found in modern psychology and what I have seen in my discussions with people.
The preventative effect of mindfulness training for individuals who face extreme stress, such as firemen, soldiers and trauma surgeons, has been examined in a recent study by cognitive neuroscientist Amishi Jha of Penn University and Elizabeth A. Stanley of Georgetown University.
Last Sunday was the Third Sunday of Lent and the reading told of the story of Moses in the desert. In fact, the 40 days of Lent is really a period of reflection about the desert. The Readings in the Divine Office follow the Book of Exodus, recounting the tale of the People of Israel as they left the familiar place of Egypt to spend 40 years wandering in the desert.
Sometimes we are made realize that the ground we stand on is not very sure. A visit to a hospital brings that home. There we see people in different stages of pain and despair. And seeing that can cause fear to arise in us as we are reminded of our own weakness and limitations.
In light of the fact that St Patrick's Day is coming soon, I may post some reflections inspired by some Gaelic or Irish sources.
The core issue is that we are not comfortable with life as it is - changing, with indistinct boundaries, not meeting our unrealistic expectation. As children most of us learn, from parents, relatives, peers, and caregivers, to want something else, such as external approval, the security of things that don't change, only pleasurable experiences, or the self-satisfaction of always being in the right.
We are often - even sometimes without being aware of it - driven by fear. I do not mean the nervousness that comes if we have to go to a difficult meeting or give a presentation, or the useful type of stress which allows us perform better. What I mean is a deeper, more fundamental type of fear, a more deep-seated anxiety, which appears and reappears or can keep us awake at night. This type of fear is only intensified by our normal strategies to push it away, or to distract ourselves from noticing it. All that does is play with the fear, like the cat with the mouse, pushing it away briefly so as to allow it return even more nervous.
A Taoist Tale:
Today it has gotten really cold again with a sharp north wind. The poor crocus who bloomed in last week's mild weather is closed and bent over and the olive tree is back under its covers.
One of the more important things for our psychological health is how we have to cope with disappointment. Losses are present in our lives from infancy onwards. Indeed, as Winnicott reminds us, a certain amount of disappointment is necessary as infants in order to allow a secure sense of self to develop. The parent has to gently "disappoint" the child in order to allow the child develop the independence to take on certain tasks for itself, to face the world without relying totally on the parent. This allows the infant have the resilience for facing the ups and downs of this world, as well as understanding that there is nuance in every person, that we cannot expect anyone to perfectly satisfy all our needs.
In the MBSR Course this week we are looking at relationships and stress. We considered the idea that we sometimes see the other person through the filter of the stories which are going on in our own lives. We see them not as they are, but as we are.
In our early years we lay down a pattern for later relationships. We construct our inner psyche out of the materials that are at our disposal in those first experiences. If some of those experiences are less than optimal, and the person's early life is lacking in adequate consistent responses, the person's relating style in later years can reflect that. From my work I am always interested to see how adults have taken into their own inner selves characteristics of their caregivers - which may have been exaggerated or inadequate - and then defend these defective structures as their own self.
You begin to see that there are seasons in your life