And... Breathe

For many of us, it is the middle of the annual meetings season, and there is a fair chance we are beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed by the size of the to-do list. This is certainly true of me. Our District AGM is on 22nd March, and I am District Secretary, so am in charge of organising it. And the GA meetings are only five weeks away, for which I have several bits of paperwork to prepare - for the Peace Fellowship's AGM, and for a URG debate on the use of Artificial Intelligence in Unitarian worship.

And the rest of my life is pretty busy as well - there's always a service to be written and delivered; people to visit; research to do; family matters; domestic stuff - the list goes on. At times like this, when I am feeling overwhelmed by life, it helps to remember the words of Laird Hamilton: "Make sure your worst enemy is not living between your ears."

That little voice, which whispers, "It's all too much. You can't do it. There isn't enough time. You are responsible if anything goes wrong." A whole litany of negativity, nagging away at my equilibrium.

At times like this, I have found that there is only one remedy. I breathe - simply breathe. "Each breath in a breath of life, each breath out a breath of love" as my first spiritual director taught me. And as I breathe, I imagine a beautiful landscape - green hills and blue sky, like the image above, or a calm sea, like the image below. 

Or, better yet, take my anxieties out for a walk in the woods. I am blessed to live near Salcey Forest, which is a peaceful retreat in all seasons. But even if you live in the centre of a large city, there are always green spaces in which you can walk, beautiful things to notice, which can ground and re-centre you. And... breathe.

The Benefits of Meditation

I'm away from home this week and had forgotten to bring this week's postcard with me. So I appealed to my friend, with whom I am staying, for a suitable quote, and she came up with this: "Buddha was asked, "What have you gained from meditation?" He replied, "Nothing. However," Buddha said, "let me tell you what I have lost: Anxiety, Anger, Depression, Insecurity, Fear of old age and death."

And its truth reverberated in my soul. I find that meditating regularly, whether I simply sit in silence, or walk in nature, or peacefully craft, is such a benefit. A time out of my daily life, a time away from the busy-work that makes up my days, is hugely beneficial. When I return to that daily life, it is with a new feeling of spaciousness, serenity. I am able to cope far better with the small vicissitudes of my normal existence, because I have allowed myself the time to simply Be. As someone once remarked, "We are human beings, not human doings."

I blogged some time ago about the benefits of simply breathing, here. And about the practice of taking a breathing space between activities. And I stand by what I wrote then: "Meditation practices are an excellent way of grounding us in the present, particularly following the breath. Because we spend far too much time of our lives being "walking, talking heads", unaware of our bodies, oblivious to how they are moving through our days. And so we miss all the lovely moments of now-ness which are in front of us."

For me, living in the moment by consciously breathing, by choosing to be aware of the present as it unfolds around me *does* make me less anxious, less prone to anger, more able to let go of the petty insecurities and irritations when they happen. Give it a go -  I hope you will discover that I am right.

Slow Down and Appreciate the Now

The 20th century Geman novelist, Wilhelm Raabe, once wrote, "Slowly, step by step, further up the stairs! Truly, the world does not offer such an abundance of pleasures that you should fly over them in jumps." (or something like that - the German to English translator on Google was vague). 

And I guess the implication is, that we need to walk through our lives slowly, "step by step", so that we are able to appreciate each beautiful object or pleasurable experience as we experience it, rather than being so fixated on some mythical future goal that we leap over them in our hurry to get there. 

Which is counter-intuitive for many of us. It is so easy to rush through the to-do list for the day (or the week) frenetically ticking off items as we go, with the idea that then, yes, then, we will be able to slow down, to rest. Only to find that when we finally reach the evening or the weekend, we are too exhausted and wound up to enjoy it properly. 

In the picture above, each blue vase of plants is beautiful in its own right, and each can be appreciated as a singular whole. How much more would we receive from our lives, if we slowed down and truly lived in the present moment? A lot, I suspect.

Meditation practicses are an excellent way of grounding us in the present, particularly following the breath. Because we spend far too much of our lives being "walking, talking heads", unaware of our bodies, oblivious to how they are moving through our days. And so we miss all the lovely moments of now-ness which are in front of us.

There was a fascinating article in The Inquirer some years ago, by Peter Hawkins. He was talking about borders, which he referred to as , "the spaces between places, between roles and between times." His argument was that we all need a breathing space between activities so that we can finish the present task properly before we start on the next. 

He recommended instituting a brief spiritual practice, which he defined as "a ritual to fully finish one event and empty myself before I cross the boundary into the next event." This could be something as simple as taking a couple of deep breaths while focussing on your breathing. I thought this was a really interesting idea, and try to follow it, when I remember.

 

Memento Mori

Warning: may include distressing content. 

The Latin phrase, 'memento mori' means "remember that you have to die." I was reminded of it yesterday evening, when my husband and I were watching a programme presented by Alexander Armstrong, about his experiences of visiting South Korea.

(image: Wikimedia Commons)

Most of the programme was about the (to us) very weird and unusual popular culture in Seoul, but there was one segment, only a few minutes long, when he went out into the countryside to participate in a death meditation. Which was absolutely fascinating and very powerful. He was in this beautiful green space, with mature trees all around, to meditate on death. He obviously had no idea what was coming.

This is what I remember about it: at first, the meditation master talked about Armstrong's life - how would he feel if he knew it was coming to an end. Then he took him to a nearby space which had rows of open, empty coffins in it. They walked along one row, and came to one which had an A4 photo of Armstrong propped up in it.

And I saw Armstrong's face change. Suddenly, this was serious, important. The meditation master dressed him in a pale yellow garment to represent a shroud, and invited him to sit in the coffin. Then he asked him questions about his life - what he was proudest of, what he had achieved, did he have any regrets etc. I could tell Armstrong was finding it hard to think about this stuff, while sitting in a coffin with his own photo in it.

Then the meditation master told him to lie down in the coffin. And put the lid on top of him, then banged on it several times with a wooden mallet, as though he was nailing it down. This freaked both Maz and I out - we agreed that we could never have undergone it.

A short while later, the meditation master opened the lie and told Armstrong that he had been reborn, and asked what he would do with his new life. 

Armstrong's response was something like, "It's all about love." I don't think he will ever forget that experience. I'm sure I wouldn't. A real tipping point in his life - a call to action, to examine one's life *now* before it is too late.

It was such a powerful ritual.

Meditation and Clarity

 I've recently been re-reading my battered copy of Get Some Headspace by ex-Buddhist monk and meditation teacher, Andy Puddicombe. There is a Headspace app, which I signed up to about four years ago, and use as part of my morning sit.

As he writes in his Introduction, "The practise of meditation is about much more than simply sitting down for a set period of time each day. Although it may be a key component, it is just one part of a broader system of mind training that incorporates three distinct aspects... Traditionally, meditation students were taught first how to approach the technique, then how to practise it, before finally learning how to integrate the techniques into their everyday lives."

As I have said before, I am perfectly capable of sitting still for ten (or even twenty) minutes every morning. But bringing my mind to a similar stillness is much more challenging. So I've gone back to basics, and re-read the book. And my morning sit this morning was much the better for it. There can be a peaceful calmness about just sitting, following the breath, if we can learn to focus lightly, but with awareness.

Not engaging with our thoughts and feelings while meditating is a tricky process, and I, like many others, often try too hard. The trick is to acknowledge the thoughts and feelings as they arise, but not to engage with them. He gives the analogy of sitting by a busy road, watching cars go by, and explains that "gentle curiosity" is the key... "observing and noticing what happens to the body and mind as these emotions [and thoughts] come and go, [having] a sense of ease with whatever... is present."

The word "clarity" has been jumping out at me recently. Puddicombe shares the analogy of a pool of clear water - when it is still, we are able to see all the way to the bottom. But if we start to throw pebbles into it, the water becomes murky, unclear. Those pebbles are our thoughts and emotions, disturbing the quiet calm of the water, our meditative mind. 

Puddicombe writes, "The thing to remember about clarity is that what needs to become clear, will naturally become clear. Meditation is not about rooting around in the recesses of the mind, digging up old memories, getting caught up in analysis and trying to make sense of it all. ... Clarity arises in its own time and its own way. Sometimes clarity will mean becoming more aware of the thinking process. At other times the awareness might shift to the emotions or physical sensations. Whatever happens and whatever you become more aware of, allow it to happen naturally."

Which is why I agree with Jean Paul, author of this week's quotation, when he wrote, "Our greatest experiences are not our loudest, but our quietest hours." We live in a complex world, with many demands on our bodies, minds and spirits. The clarity which can come from a regular meditation practice is an essential counterpoint to this. If we can find a place of clarity in our meditation practice, through using gentle curiosity, it may help us to lead more mindful, calm lives.

Becoming Aware of the Light

This week's quotation is by Bettina von Arnim: "Wer sich nach Licht sehnt, ist nicht lichtlos, denn die Sehnsucht ist schon Licht."

Which being translated reads: "Anyone who longs for light is not lightless, for yearning is already light."

Seeing this quotation sent me back to Richard Rohr's wonderful book Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer. In it, he explains how we can only become aware of the presence of God in our lives by detaching from our monkey-mind ego-driven selves, and finding Him/Her/It in the stillness. He argues that the busy, acquisitive world we live in is the antithesis of this stillness, and is the reason why it is so hard for modern people to let go and simply be.

The Buddha, Jesus, Hafiz and many other mystical teachers all stress the importance of being awake; of being aware of what is happening in the present moment. Rohr shares an amusing conversation between a Zen master and his disciple:

"Is there anything that I can do to make myself enlightened?
"As little as you can do to make the sun rise in the morning."
"Then of what use are the spiritual exercises you prescribe?"
"To make sure you are not asleep when the sun begins to rise."

Rohr says: "We cannot attain the presence of God because we're already totally in the presence of God. What's absent is awareness. Little do we realise that God is maintaining us in existence with every breath we take.As we take another, it means that God is choosing us now and now and now." (emphasis mine)

Which is why I try to sit in silence for 15 minutes every morning ... so that I will not be asleep when the sun begins to rise.

A Break in the Clouds

I was driving back home from Evesham yesterday, when I noticed this dramatic sky ahead of me. It spoke to me so much that I found a parking space (fortunately I was on a dual carriageway, not the motorway), parked up, and took a picture.

I'm not sure whether it will show up on your browser / phone, but the contrast between the dark, rain-filled clouds and the brightness of the unchanging blue sky behind was remarkable to the naked eye.

In fact it reminded me of a metaphor much used by Martin Laird in his book Into the Silent Land, which is about learning how to do contemplative prayer. He says that our thoughts and feelings are like the weather, but that there is something deeper within, which is not affected by changes in that weather, that is deep, and luminous, and aware. Laird refers to it as a mountain, Mount Zion. Which is that-of-God within each of us.

Seeing that bright blue sky behind those menacing clouds helped me to understand that although our thoughts, moods, and feelings may change from day to day, or even from moment to moment, there is a deep, peaceful, sky-blue awareness behind and above them, into which we can sink, if we just have the patience to sit in silence for a while, and let our passing emotions do just that - pass by. It's not easy by any means - the chattering monkeys are loud and clear; the inner video is always there, ready to seduce our attention away.

But fleeting moment of peace are possible, and the knowledge that this deeper, calmer centre is there may help us in our everyday lives.. It surely helps me.