Emerging Equanimity

They say practices like meditation, yoga and prayer, when practiced regularly, can lead to greater feelings of trust, compassion, forgiveness, and kindness. Hearing this good news has always been a motivating factor to help me keep on keeping on in this spiritual journey- especially in moments of disillusionment or frustration. But I can honestly say, I hadn't yet experienced these delicious fruits of my labor in any sort of really noticeable way yet...Until recently, in the form of an emerging equanimity.

Buddhist teacher Jack Kornfield said in his blog on September 23, 2014 that "Equanimity combines an understanding mind together with a compassionate heart."  He then describes a meditation practice that brings the intention of equanimity to the forefront of consciousness.

I think of equanimity as an attitude I try to cultivate and hold toward my day to day living that is responsive, not reactive. It is a way of attending to each situation in front of me with a sense of ease and confidence that everything will be okay even if I know not how.   Jack Kornfield equates equanimity as an internal "balance" in this same blog post. He says "we can feel this possibility of balance in our hearts in the midst of life when we recognize that life is not in our control."

This sense of balance Mr. Kornfield describes is what I've seen lately as a growing seed inside of me.

Take yesterday morning for example.

The day started early (like 3:30 a.m. early) because my daughter has been having so much trouble sleeping. A combination of teething and not liking the transition from the cozy curved shape of the bassinet to the flatness of her crib mattress. So I've been noticeably (to myself but to others too I'm sure) more irritable. Because the baby was up, I had to forego my morning meditation and yoga practice. Sometimes she will sit on the floor next to me and just watch me move from one yoga posture to another, but not yesterday. She was so tired and cranky herself, that a good snuggle was all she wanted.

When my husband got up a couple hours later he then told me our dog, who's an elderly yellow lab, had stained our gorgeous down pillows with blood because one of his many warts had opened up before he had laid down on the pillows which had fallen to the floor in the night.

With all of this commotion going on--still before the sunrise--my 5 year old son woke up early and wanted to be held. At which time the dog was barking to go out and have his breakfast, the cats were meowing for there breakfast, and my one-cup-of-
coffee-a-day-rule was quickly not seeming to be enough.

But...here comes the but...I didn't lose it. I didn't freak out. I don't mean out loud, I have never really been a person with outbursts. However, I am definitely capable of a good in-burst. It didn't happen though. I felt emotions. Frustration. Irritation. Disappointment. But the feelings weren't overwhelming. And I didn't hang on to them either. When the moment passed, it passed. Throughout the rest of the day I felt physically tired at times from lack of sleep, but I wasn't re-hashing the morning's events in my mind as had been my habit in the past. In other words, I was able to recalibrate to my center fairly easily because I never really tipped the scales of emotions to begin with. Which, to me, is the definition of equanimity.

I worry sometimes though about being able to hold onto equanimity. Like if I don't pay really close attention, equanimity will just slip through my hands. Therefore I must cling super tight to it.

Okay, are you laughing at me?! I am laughing at me. Clinging to equanimity is like holding on to a horse for dear life while riding so you don't fall off. I should know, I had a bad fall from a horse when I was 12 years old. The rigidness of the body that happens when you cling actually makes it more likely you will fall off- you know the ol' self fulfilling prophecy. So, the lesson here is no clinging to equanimity out of fear.

Then what do I turn to? Faith and trust.

Faith and trust are the seeds of equanimity that are always inside of me, always were in me, and will always be in me- no matter what. But if I want more than just seeds, if I want to grow an elegant peony, then I must water the seeds of equanimity. I must fertilize them and put them out in the sunshine by practicing meditation, prayer and yoga. I must cut back the weeds that may interfere with the growth of the flower- weeds like fear and worry.

A couple months ago I posted about a book called "First Light" by Sue Monk Kidd. It is a collection of her early spiritual writing. In it she tells the story of seeds that were thousands of years old found in the pyramids of Egypt. She writes that these ancient seeds sprouted after being planted. Ms. Kidd then concluded "seeds, I learned, no matter how old, are alive. Dormant but still alive. When the right conditions come along-the right amount of warmth or soil or moisture- they wake up and bloom."

I love that metaphor for emerging equanimity.  It helps me stay in faith and trust rather than fear and worry. That will allow me to let nature take care of the rest and equanimity will slowly blossom on its own.

What seeds are you nurturing inside of you today? What conditions or spiritual practices would help your seeds grow?