Spiritual anchors, in meditation and in life, can be quite diversified
and can target specific areas of the self
that need attention and grounding (e.g. the mind versus the body versus the
soul). However, at the end of the day
for me, all anchors—which to me are like tools in my tool belt—lend themselves
to the same over-arching practice and intention of mindfulness. All anchors help me to come back to the here
and now in both mind and body and to not
cultivate the seeds of suffering.
As more of a traditionalist in this respect, my go-to anchor has always
been the breath. Probably because it’s
free, it’s always with me, it’s doesn’t require a lot of thought, and it feels
good in the body to take in a breath with intention rather than unconsciously.
Another frequent anchor is use of sound.
My Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction class in 2014re-introduced me to this
one. Awareness of sound can be a
fantastic anchor to the present moment, especially when in nature- though I’ve
also heard of someone using it while waiting in the airport during a long
layover.
I thoroughly enjoyed sound as my anchor this past summer as I sat in
meditation on my deck or by my screen door in the early morning hours taking in
all the bird sounds waking up each day.
In fact, some days I would also be blessed with a co-anchor of a
pleasant breeze or a flowery smell that lit up all my senses to the present
moment.
Of course words themselves are traditional anchors in multiple spiritual
practices. Though not overtly identified as using an anchor, my very amateur understanding of contemplative
practices such as Transcendental Meditation and Centering Prayer finds these to
be more formal practices with a cognitive anchor- albeit possibly with
different intentions. Both practices
encourage the practitioner to focus attention on one word or set of words (a.k.a
a mantra) while in meditation or prayer.
Words, as any blogger would say, have always been an
effective grounding tool for me. Over the years I have used several words or
phrases in my meditation practice. Many
were borrowed from the experiences of more seasoned seekers whose books I’ve
read, lectures I’ve attended, or interviews I’ve listened to. Here are some to
name a few:
Be, here, now.
Now, here, this.
In. Out.
I am.
When I have used one phrase on the above list, it was often
infused with meaning for me at the time, which made the practice more personal.
Most recently I have been using a phrase picked up from my
recent day of mindfulness at Blue Cliff Monastery founded by Buddhist teacher
and author Thich Nhat Hanh. Here I
congregated together with other practitioners one recent morning in the meditation
hall in the spirit of sangha. Then a
monk led us in a meditation that used these words, or anchor, as we followed
our breath:
“When I breathe in, I know that I
am breathing in.
When I breathe out, I know that I
am breathing out.”
This particular anchor really works well for me right now
because I am trying to connect my meditation practice with my challenges in
accepting reality as it is.
Taking a more wide-angle lens, the spiritual practices
themselves (versus what we actually say or do in them) can be the anchor for
our day to day lives.
For many years I worked side by side in community mental
health with a very devout Catholic man, and every day before work (which began
at 8:30 in the morning) he would attend mass at his local church. This was a time before I had children of my
own, and he had 4. One day I asked him,
after I had had trouble just getting myself ready and out of the house that
morning, “why do you do it? It seems like another task to put in your already
very full day of service none the less.” And he of course responded that the practice
of attending mass at the start of each day was extremely grounding for him, and
by no means a burden of any kind. The
practice was an anchor.
My coworker’s words and practice stayed with me, even though
I had no such practices or understanding of what a spiritual anchor was at that
time in my younger life. Though I had
always been someone who admired devotional seekers from afar- even when I did
not have any of my own to speak of.
It is quite easy for me to stand in awe of others who wear
their faith on their sleeve. As long as the individual’s devotional practices
do not in anyway, directly or indirectly, interfere with or judge the way other
folks search for spirit and truth, I feel immense admiration for those concrete
practices that make a more visible and bold declaration of the sacred and holy.
Some of this appreciation comes from reading. In both That’s
Funny, You Don’t Look Buddhist by Sylvia Boorstein and Devotion by Dani Schapiro I enjoyed reading descriptions of what I understood
to be the orthodox Jewish practice of fastening scrolls of Hebrew texts from the
Torah, that are safely kept in square leather boxes called “tefillin,”
literally onto the body- the arm and head specifically. I could absolutely see how this practice,
taken so literally from scripture, could be an act of worship and a spiritual anchor
for the individual.
Watching others practice their spiritual rituals, in a voyeuristic
sort of way I suppose, has also impressed upon me the beauty of a more public
display of faith. When I was in India in
2001 I spent some time in the state of Kerala which is on the southwestern
coast. Each morning I would wake up to the
sound of the ocean outside of my hut, and I would come outside to see the local
Indian men and women who would come each morning to engage in a practice of
wading in to the ocean in full clothes while some sort of spiritual leader or
figure would, what appeared to be, bless them in some way. It was breathtaking.
Another religious practice found in multiple faiths that I
have long admired and seen as a natural anchor in its purest (in other words:
non-obligatory) form is the concept of Sabbath.
A little while ago I watched a youtube video of the Christian
author and preacher Rob Bell called “Everything is Spiritual.” It’s an
interesting view if you haven’t already seen it. But one thing that particularly caught my
attention was his reminder from Genesis in the Bible that suggests the value of
Sabbath as a day of rest.
As a full-time working parent of 2 young kids, a period of
total rest is out of the question because even if I am not actually commuting
back and forth to the hospital where I work, I am still giving baths and
changing diapers in my other job as a mother.
What was interesting to me though, was after watching this
Rob Bell youtube video that referred to Sabbath
as defined as rest, I had greater awareness in my meditation practice of how
much “work” I was still doing unconsciously while sitting on the cushion. Though I frequently use an anchor, like those
listed above, my mind still routinely jumps up and begins to problem-solve or
make lists. It’s like she (my mind) just
can’t seem to remember for more than 30 seconds that we are not working right
now, we are resting with god in focused attention and (relative) stillness.
Since this awareness, I have started using the word “Sabbath”
as my word-anchor in meditation. I have actually
always liked the sound and meaning of this word, though it has no roots in my
own secular upbringing. But now it is
also helping me to remember, as written in Ecclesiastes in the Bible, that “there
is time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens”
including spiritual practice, stillness and
rest.
Let’s let our spiritual anchors help us return to these
noble intentions, moment by moment, day by day.
What spiritual anchors do you use to stay grounded?
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