Tag Archives: Resiliency

mindfulness instructions for daily practice in a landscape of change and uncertainty

windscapes

As a frequent observer of the ever-changing canvas of the sky, I notice the shape of the wind in the clouds and the endless variety and nuance of colors in a sunset as it evolves from beginning to end. All of these naturally occurring and shape-shifting events are a daily reminder of how the ‘arising conditions’ in one’s life, as well as in the external world, always have a beginning, a middle, and an end. This can be its own comfort, especially when what is arising is foreign, fearful, or simply unknown territory.

The four mindfulness instructions listed below have been particularly helpful to me over the past few months and I have found myself incorporating them into my daily yoga practice, as needed or skillful.

“It’s okay to feel this.” from Joseph Goldstein’s teachings. This teaching is a simple, yet gentle reminder that we don’t need to change how or what we are feeling or our response to it. Wanting our emotions to stop or be different is often the impulse when they are experienced as uncomfortable or painful. We may feel aversion or a desire to suppress or have them disappear. As likely, we may engage in something distracting to make them go away or go underground. The practice of allowing one’s emotional experience without making it good or bad, or right or wrong and being present as it moves through can be its own source of relief and liberation.

“Standing in the middle of anything.” is an equanimity practice shared by Devin Berry in an interview with Dan Harris on the previously known as 10% Happier App (now Happier App.) This teaching invites us to find the ground under our feet, the constancy and rhythm of our breath, and return to our center in the midst of whatever is arising within us or around us. We can pause and invite our full awareness to observe the presence or flow of physical sensations, cognitions or thought energy, and/or emotions without judgment or identification.

“Present moment; safe moment.” This phrase arose a number of years ago during my work with individuals healing from complex trauma. Many others have found it an effective teaching and mantra since. Exploring and re-establishing a ‘felt sense of safety’ through gentle therapeutic, somatic practices is an essential part of healing trauma and/or supporting ourselves in periods of high distress . While our bodies and beings may have lived through various traumatic events or through situations in which we lacked control and agency, when we are fully present with our bodies and breath in the present moment, we can reconnect with our inherent capacity to calm and soothe our nervous system. This supports healing and nourishes resiliency.

“Love no matter what.” from Father Greg Boyle, as shared by Joseph Goldstein. Individual, groups, and systems can unconsciously and/or consciously create individual or systemic harm. Father Boyle’s teaching reminds us to lead with humanity and kindness in the midst of oppression and cruelty, and remember that love and compassion are stronger and more resilient than hate and fear. It is also a reminder that the act and choice to love is a daily practice that can be invited and nourished.

Beauty and Resiliency: no matter what

Same lake, different day.

As I look out my office window, the sun breaks the boundaries of today’s clouds. Immediately, the snowfields glow, almost blinding in their sweep down to the inky blue expanse of Lake Champlain, whose western shoreline is anchored by the Adirondacks. This view never gets old. Beauty never does.

To live in this pandemic, natural beauty has become a necessary balm, a daily tonic for me. As for most of us, with varying iterations, the shape of my life has been reduced, slightly expanded, then reduced again with each new wave of Covid-19. The relative constant has been navigating the small triangle of: home, office, and grocery store. When the triangle breaks for errands, takeout, the rare out-of-state trip when infection rates have dropped, spaciousness seeps in, as does the remembrance of life before Covid-19. The old normal. The time, like all time, that will never return.

As we approach the 2nd anniversary of the pandemic, I am struck by how much stress and grief people have had to navigate in universal and unique ways. These include: social isolation and fear of illness or death, deaths of loved ones and pets, shifts in employment or demands thereof; reduced or no access to healthcare, housing, and food security; confusion related to public health management, and lack of access to regular activities or travel that bring joy and renewal. All of these circumstances are continuing to unfold against a backdrop of global social, political, and environmental challenges that create their own clouds of existential angst.

Throughout it all, what humbles me most is human resiliency. And not the dressed up kind that one reads about in psychological theory or the latest self-help book, but the gritty, necessary meeting-life-another-day kind. No matter what. What humbles me is the way I witness people hanging on, leaning in, being vulnerable, sharing what’s real, and taking care of themselves and those they love. What humbles me is the courage it takes to show up messy, curious, sad or grieving, and still find moments of laughter, joy, and ways to love. This kind of human resiliency lives below or beyond the labels of identity, life circumstances, social structures, political affiliations or lack thereof. It’s messy, heartfelt, courageous, and tender. And I have the privilege of witnessing its emergence and growth all the time.

One of the things I have learned personally and professionally is that the worst things in life are not poverty, illness, trauma, hunger, or even the death of loved ones, as devastating as any or all of these experiences are or can be. It’s being alone with our suffering, whatever its origins. It’s living in a cage of chronic silence and isolation. Feeling and believing that if people only knew how you felt, or what happened to you, or some mistake that you made, you would be exiled off the planet and everyone would know your individual brand of unworthiness and shame.

While the hiding, the silence, and related isolation create the worst suffering, connection heals. Authentic connection to ourselves, others, and nature make life not only bearable, but meaningful. In these ways, resilience is born and nurtured. Every day. No matter what.

It’s okay.

The peonies have returned, as the first lilacs begin their fade. This is the gesture of spring, of life cycle; the blossoms show us over days or weeks, what it is like to grow, shine, and release.

Around me, around us all, the human journey of individual, family, community, nation, and world unfolds. The human energies are heightened and tangled: fraught, frightened, lost, grieving, confused; out-of-step with what was expected, while grappling with what has arisen, what has been lost, and our historic wounds. While turning toward the possibilities within dynamic change is necessary and resourceful, there is no right or one way to walk through this moment. We each have our way. We can trust this. And yes, unrest, messy moments, and grief in the midst are inevitable.

Resiliency is not solely an individual quality or skillset, as it is so often described and touted, but a living connection to systemic supports and resources that allow us to find homecoming and shelter with others, as well as within ourselves. The roots of resiliency are nurtured through learning how to be compassionate with ourselves and others. Compassion engages the heart’s knowing and softer, kinder wisdom. It is the gesture, the practice that allows for the building of bridges and human connection.

More vulnerability, more tenderness, more distress are natural in times of instability, crisis, and systemic fragility. Take heart. Reach out when you need to. It’s all okay.