Breaking Habits in Meditation

It seems to me that a meditation practice can be a fantastic playground for breaking our own personal habits in a self compassionate way. Rather than taking the heavy-handed approach, which in my experience only works in the short-run and generally leads to a poor sense of self, we use a light but honest touch to steer ourselves in a different direction.

I recently had a difficult experience in meditation that punctuated this lesson for me. I was sitting with a group meditating- this sit was about 40 minutes- and about a third of the way in I began to feel an intense wave of emotion come through me. Now, I say "come through me" because that is how it felt in my body. My chest got tight, my heart began to race, and my whole body felt extremely heavy. And as if that was not enough, emotions of sadness and fear were washing in like tides, in and out over the course of the rest of the meditation.

After it was over, I had the thought: what the hell was that? I discussed my experience with the teacher after class and she gave me some pointers for managing this type of situation in meditation should it present itself again, and at that moment I felt more relaxed about the whole thing.

But when I got home that night the body sensations and emotions knocked again.  My Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction teacher calls these moments "uninvited guests." And the wise instruction is to do as Sufi poet Rumi suggests in his poem "The Guest House."

...Meet them at the door laughing...invite them in.

Oh Rumi but that is so hard! As a more modern 21st century poet Marie Howe said, "presence is painful." I don't want painful. And so I turned away and sought refuge in my two old friends: carbs and bad tv.

It's funny though, my two go-to escape behaviors for difficult emotions didn't do their job as well as they used to this time, and I noticed that right away. I sat cross-legged on my ottoman in my living room in front of my evening soap opera, "Grey's Anatomy," and I still felt. Not so much the body sensations anymore, but the residual yuck of emotional distress was still there. This led to a combination of frustration that my escape behaviors did not work and shame that I engaged in the escape behaviors to begin with. So to sum it up, I made an already bad situation worse.

Or did I? Is there another way to view this scenario?

At my recent meditation retreat the teacher Kate talked at the end of the day about the laws of expansion and contraction. She said in a full day of meditation retreat one may practice expansion, or drawing what you want to you, and when you leave the retreat and re-enter the "real world" with families and jobs and traffic, you may notice contraction, or taking yourself away from what you want.

This instruction made so much sense to me, and it seems this dynamic may be a constant dance that we do as human beings and especially as seekers. Opening to growth or expansion. Followed by moments of shutting down, retreating or contracting.

When I think about my experience of coming face to face with difficult emotions and having the urge to run away, from this perspective of expansion and contraction being a law of the universe, I can actually shift from a self-critical position to a self-compassionate position. With this shift in perspective, or attitude, I can feel my whole body begin to soften and I actually feel lighter inside. As if my whole person let out an enormous exhale with an audible sigh of relief. "Thank god," I say to myself, "this is not another failure for me to chronicle and live through. This is just the nature of things- which means, I am no different from everybody else."

What's more, this new perspective of accepting the law of expansion and contraction highlighted by my recent meditation experience has the potential to help me (and maybe you too) with one of my most ingrained, well-versed habits: perfectionism.

One of my old behavioral patterns is to aim to learn something new very quickly and then do it perfectly every time thereafter. And when (not if) I inevitably don't do it perfect, I attempt to hide from the negative feelings that arise by engaging in distraction like food and tv like I mentioned above, but also sometimes shopping or seeking out reassurance or external validation from others like my husband. Then, I take the next step of sinking into self-loathing and shame about myself due to my poor coping style-which leads to what? More attempts at perfectionism.  Thereby completing the vicious cycle to guarantee I keep going around in circles. Forever stuck on my own wheel of what Buddhists call dukkha or suffering.

This very wheel was turning this morning when I sat down for meditation. I had had a rough night due to the residual emotion from the day before, including some additional feelings like irritability and agitation, which led to a pretty strong aversion to my sitting practice this morning. But I got on the floor anyway, aka "I pushed through," and began to read a piece by Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hahn to bring my mind into focus.

However, after I read, and his words are always so generous and kind, I surprised myself by breaking my perfectionist cycle and allowed myself not to meditate. I said to myself, "you do not have to do this. This may not be what you need right now."

But then, what would I do with myself?  In the past, if I didn't steam my way through a moment with force and self-aggression, I'd be retreating into my false refuges of carbs, tv, shopping, or seeking reassurance from others. And I didn't want to do that either.

At that moment my mind turned to a writer named James Finley. He had lived at the Abbey of Gethsemani  in Kentucky with Thomas Merton for six years in his youth, and went on to write a book called "Christian Meditation." In this book he wrote in part about how our daily lives, whatever they may be, can be a "monastery without walls" if that is our intention. So my days filled with tasks like driving, showering, feeding the baby, talking with my spouse, sitting with a patient or cooking a meal all could be done as a contemplative practice.

 With that thought, I stood up and walked out of my living room into the kitchen and I began to cook. Keep in mind this was still the before-dawn-hours of the day because that is when I usually meditate. So when my husband got up to take a shower before work he came into the kitchen and looked at me rather quizzically, but simply said: "watcha doin in here?" I merely responded with the obvious," cooking a quiche for dinner tonight." He looked at me cutting onions and slicing mushrooms, and said, "you don't usually do this at 5 in the morning, you ok?"  I said I had had some difficult emotions show up in meditation so I decided to switch gears.

At that moment he asked if there was anything he could do. When he asked that I knew I could gratify my desire for reassurance and external validation right then and there, but I didn't do it. Instead I paused, thought of Buddhist teacher Sylvia Boorstein and said: "I think this one is an inside job" and I kept on cooking. With that one action, I took one step toward breaking my perfectionist habit.

What steps might you be willing to take today toward breaking habits? How might the ebb and flow of expansion and contraction present itself in your life?

Photos from Meditation Retreat

These photos are all from my first Mindfulness Meditation full-day Retreat. The first was a sign in the woods of the campus of the former monastery that I just loved. I wish there were signs like that in the "real world." The second is a shot of the labyrinth we walked silently as a group. The third is a statue of a madonna that was in an area of the campus next to this gorgeous pond where we did walking meditation.

Mommy-Guilt & Meditation

Yesterday I went to my very first all day meditation retreat. It was held on a campus of a former monastery on over 50 acres of New England woods. We lucked out with one of those perfect autumn days where the sky is this gorgeous shade of sea blue, the temperature is a comfortable low 60 degrees, and a soft breeze helps you hear the quiet rainfall of leaves dropping in preparation for winter. This made for a picturesque setting for our outdoors walking meditations.

Suffice it to say, the day was amazing. Something I've had on my wish list for many years. And something I plan to write about more in days to come. But something that presented itself early in the day, before I even got to the retreat, that was tricky to navigate and tolerate was mommy-guilt.

I suppose you could argue I should not have been surprised. Mommy-guilt is a plague as ubiquitous as the common cold in twenty first century working moms' lives. This always lurking, sure to ruin a good time, set of thoughts and feelings that generally confirm your unworthiness as a mother. And, if it truly is analogous to the common cold, then there is no vaccine and no cure. The best you can do is take care of your over-all wellness and boost your immune system.

How do we do this? For me, I choose to nourish and cultivate my whole person. Doing these two things truly does make me a better mother and human being in the long run. If I take time to develop
a deep rich completive life, I am a more balanced, grounded and compassionate human being- which absolutely makes for better parenting. Also, I want to model a spiritual life for my children. I once was told that social modeling (copying what you see others doing) is the number one way kids learn thought and behavior patterns. Well, if that's true I want my son and daughter to grow up to have lives that are meaningful and well rounded including, hopefully, a spiritual life.

But that is all the long view of course...The short view is a kindergarten age boy in his footy pajamas saying to me as I'm getting dressed to go out for a full Saturday of silent meditation after having worked full- time Monday through Friday, "mommy, what time will you be home? After it's dark?" And your heart breaks.

Of course I prepared. I pumped extra breast milk. I planned to do something extra fun Saturday night-a Halloween Parade-and I did more housework during the week so I'd be able to do quality time with my kids on Sunday. You know- overcompensation. But I still had mommy-guilt set in anyway as I pulled out of the driveway in the early morning hours.

It's hard, you know? To know one thing to be true, but to have your feelings betray you. A little ways back I had referred to some books I was reading by author Joan Anderson. She was a woman in her 50's who one day separated from her husband after her children were grown because she felt "unfinished." She described a chronic neglect of herself earlier in her marriage and parenting years that left profound deficits inside of her. She wrote in "A Walk on the Beach" that she had spent years, decades, confusing "serving" others with "loving"others.

I don't want that to be me. And it could in an instant. When we mothers are dutiful, meeting every need of our family's before it is even articulated, we are initially put on a pedestal of sainthood. And it can feel good for a while especially if we ourselves also volunteer some martyrdom to go on top- like a cherry topping off a sundae.

But I can tell you, it doesn't last. It can't. The more you are seen in a one-dimensional mommy way (both by children, spouse and you yourself) you don't ultimate become a hero, you become invisible. Your own desires, interests and dreams get swallowed up. The nuanced four-dimensional woman that was yourself is no longer recognized by others, and sometimes I fear by yourself as well.

So what are we to do? How do we and our families not confuse "serving with loving ?" How do we model a whole self for our sons and daughters, not a fractioned self?

I think walking this difficult path of four dimensional, rather than one dimensional, womanhood requires an ability to tolerate difficult emotions like guilt. It means letting go of our old people-pleasing M. O. in order to grow into the complex individuals that we are. It means pursuing our longer term life goals of equanimity and balance in the context of dealing with short term struggles like temper tantrums and anger outbursts- and the kids may have them too!

The pay-off will be worth it though. It was yesterday. I came home after the  nine hours of Mindfulness Meditation retreat and I felt renewed. I felt more attentive and kind to each of my children and my husband. At the Halloween Parade I took my little baby pumpkin and my big boy Thor to after the retreat I felt alert and awake- like my body, mind and emotions finally all showed up to the same place at the same time.

I told my husband, I felt like I had gone through a detox of the mind, and I know I will do this again. The meditation retreat is likely to be a  practice I do regularly. Whether it be a half a day or at some point, a full nine days. And as my children are a young 5 year-old and not quite 1 year old, mommy guilt will just be a part of that picture for a while.  And that's okay.  As I practiced yesterday at the retreat, I will just notice the guilt, let it go, and come back to my breath, in this present moment.

Perhaps you can do this too.

Yoke: A Triangle of Awareness

I recently heard someone say that they named their depression “Francis.” The person speaking was a Lutheran preacher named Nadia Bolz Weber and she apparently describes how she came to name Francis in her book “Pastrix: the Cranky, Beautiful Faith of a Sinner & Saint.” Ms. Bolz Weber says her image of Francis is circa early 1990’s Courtney Love in a torn up baby-doll dress with a pale face and smeared lipstick, and like the nightmare roommate who will just not move out.

First off, I found this idea hilarious, and I think a little laughter and humor is sorely missing from my spiritual practice. So, thank you Ms. Bolz Weber for that! But beside the lighter side of things, I have to say, I found the suggestion of naming something inside of you that feels kind of ethereal and even slippery at times, to be quite helpful, and I began to apply it to my triangle of awareness.

I’ve been posting lately about my experiences in my Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction class, and my teacher, Kate, recently talked to us about the three components of awareness which she drew on a large piece of paper as a triangle.  Each corner of the triangle of awareness was labeled including: Body Sensations, Thoughts and Emotions. At first glance of the triangle I thought to myself, “okay, nothing really new here for me.” But then when I moved in deeper, I saw how challenging this awareness-thing really is because what we’re talking about is not holding each area of awareness separately, but rather integrating the three parts in to a greater sum of integration and wholeness, and for me, that’s the challenge.

           Elizabeth Gilbert, author of "Eat, Pray, Love," recently spoke of this intentional effort
           toward integrated cohesion recently on Super Soul Sunday with Oprah Winfrey.
           She described a retreat several years ago in which she stayed on a largely uninhibited island
           and spoke out loud to all her various internal voices. She talked to the voice of shame
           and self loathing and guilt, and asked each one respectfully: how can we all live together
           in this head of mine more peacefully? An important question for us all to ask. Whether on
           the micro level of our own internal world, or on the macro level of world nations.

So where do I begin? Well, even though my ultimate spiritual goal is to live in a cohesive state of awareness, I generally start by compartmentalizing.  I’m actually very, very good at compartmentalizing as I’ve been doing it for most of my life. It probably was a survival technique. And when you practice something over and over again, you get pretty good at it.  But a word of caution, look out of for over-generalizing the usage of your own personal survival techniques, you must be selective.  Here though, I will compartmentalize each corner of my triangle of awareness as a means to understand each part in more detail but knowing in the end I seek for all three to integrate as a whole. I will do this by naming each aspect of awareness, just as Ms. Bolz Weber named her depression Francis.

Over this past summer, in my work as a psychotherapist, I saw a teenage girl who was a triplet, all girls.  This patient described to me how difficult life can be at times as a triplet with identical looking sisters, who’s personalities are all quite different and unique.  In the process of naming now my triangle of awareness, I’m drawing upon my experience with this patient, and imagining the 3 corners of my awareness as all teenage triplets who are my daughters; girls all born at the same time of the same mother, me. But also like my patient, though on a physical level looking exactly alike, each is in fact very distinctive in her own right.

Let’s start with Body Sensations. If body sensations were my teenage daughter I would call her “Wallflower.” She would be the girl who has her bangs hanging long over her eyes, incredible shy in school, often found looking down at her feet.  I would have to work at getting any information out of her about how things were going in school, with friends, etc.

Now Thoughts. Thoughts I would name “Chatty Kathy.” If my thoughts were a girl going through adolescence she would be the one who is talking non-stop.  The one who just rambles on and on. Can go on tangents and not even notice if people are engaged or not in what she is saying. The one who you just want to say to sometimes, “would you please just shut-up,” but in a really nice way of course.

And lastly, Emotions.  My depiction of emotions would be “Goth Girl.” She would be this kind of gloomy, Eeyore-like moody teenager who had a melancholy about her.  When she spoke she might be a little irritable or grumpy.  She’d be smart. Insightful. Observant of others. But mainly a loner.

I now imagine sitting down to a family dinner with these 3 girls, Wallflower, Chatty Kathy, and Goth-girl, my triangle of awareness. These 3 daughters who I am trying desperately to coexist with living in the same house, me.  These 3 girls who can really give me a hard time at times.  I contemplate the family dinner as analogous to the movie "Soul Food” in which all the family members sit down to an abundant spread of comfort foods provided at the home of the Grandmother matriarch each Sunday.  A ritualized coming together regardless of how well everyone in the family is getting along or how good or bad the Monday through Friday week was. In this analogy, I would be the Grandmother matriarch, and the 3 teenager daughters representing my triangle of awareness (body sensations, thoughts and feelings) would be the squabbling family members who reluctantly show up to my table each week.

Kind of like how we show up to our yoga mat.  Consider for a moment, the word “yoga.” As most of you know, the word stems from the word yoke which means union. The purpose of this union is to purposefully bring the parts of yourself including your body, your mind and your emotions all into alignment- everybody being at the same table (or mat) at the same time. Intentionally integrating the various facets of our humanity because so often each individual aspect can feel quite separate as we move through our very busy days of work, parenting and personal growth.

But on the mat, who is to take care of all these moving parts? Who acts as Grandmother matriarch orchestrating the whole thing? The soul of course. My Buddha nature. My true self. Saying compassionately to Wallflower, or my body,:“Try and relax a little. Open up. Life your gaze. Smile.” Saying to Chatty Kathy, or my thoughts: “Okay, I heard what you have to say. Now let’s try and bring our attention back to this moment and give someone else a turn.” And to my Goth-girl, my emotions, while putting an arm around her: “I got you. You’re okay. You’re safe. Don’t push me away. “

Yes, on the yoga mat is where the potential for the sum to be greater than each part truly can be realized. But it must be done with self-compassion.  With kindness. Giving space for the idiosyncrasies and temper tantrums and struggles of each girl so that she will know her experience is valid.  And by demonstrating that validation, in my experience, yoke, or union becomes a reality.