Tag Archives: loving-kindness

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.

New Year’s Meditation

~golden flight

On the dawn of a new day
on the cusp of a New Year
may I awaken to my heart’s
deepest longings,
may I unburden my mind’s
deepest fears
and from the wellspring 
of body and breath
find homecoming
and the soaring sweetness 
of freedom.

Deb Sherrer

Many blessings on the transition from one year of life into the portal and possibilities of a new year.

As the foliage begins to turn to flames, the leaves like small prayer flags of light, Mary Oliver reminds us to shine, too.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”

~Mary Oliver

(Excerpt from: When I Am Among the Trees)

light shapes, heartscapes

The recent gestures of two people reminded me how simple acts of gratitude, generosity, and kindness connect us to our shared essential goodness, the inherent light within us. One gesture inspired the poem below. The other filled my palm with sea glass, followed by a heart-shaped stone. Both brought joy and helped me to remember that blessings are where we find or open to them, passing them back and forth, hand-to-hand, heart-to-heart.

sunbeam heart: “You are a beam of light, too.” (shared photo)

sunbeams and shadows
like stars cut through
the dark cloth of night,
all portals, parts of the universe
we embody as one

~love under a blue sky

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.

~cultivating continuity and stability in uncertain times

Another day, the waves come and go.

So much has changed, and is still changing, day by day. While the unpredictable is always a part of life, our regular rhythms, habits, and choices that typically support a sense of control or agency break open in moments of profound disruption. Groundlessness appears and we are seemingly dropped into a new, arising reality.

The word pandemic comes from the Greek pandemos, pan (all) demos (people). Spreading across the globe and our nation, we are acutely aware of the vulnerabilities of those disproportionately affected (e.g., the elderly, the immune compromised, the poor and/or uninsured, the newly unemployed, the college students sent home, the imprisoned, the health care workers and grocery store clerks serving on the front lines, instead of “sheltering in place,” the children without adequate adult support and/or nutrition.) That said, all people know fear and worry in a worldwide health crisis.

This morning as I was reflecting on the disruption of daily life, defined as I/we knew it pre-pandemic, I realized again that mindfulness practices, like yoga and meditation are meant for these times, especially. While everything shifts around us and within us, one can go to their familiar mat and practice moving with breath and awareness and come home to the present moment. We can meet whatever is arising with curiosity, kindness, and care. This nurtures its own form of stability and continuity, in motion or stillness. Our non-judgmental breath holds the same invitations and metaphors as before, of receiving and releasing, freshness and unburdening; our mat is a zone of safety; and the body is a container that can only live in the present moment. This helps us to ground here, where a felt sense of safety can be accessed or cultivated. These practices also allow us to observe and pull back from the ruminating “what ifs” and catastrophic cliffs of of the wandering, spooked mind. These practices of homecoming allows us to look out and remember: The sky is still spacious and the ground is still solid under our feet. A loving, aware connection to self, and in extension shared with others through loving-kindness, can help to fortify us in an unfamiliar landscape. And we can practice again and again, accessing the peace within and our ever-present essential goodness.

May we all be safe.
May we all be free of suffering.
May we all be healed.
May we all be at peace.

Thich Nhat Hanh

artist unknown (Yes, I can’t read the signature. Apologies.)