Gratitude

 Until today, I was of the understanding that a gratitude practice involved taking a minute or two to think about a few things for the day, or maybe the week - a period of time - for which you were grateful. So, a person might think a little about it and come up with something like - I am grateful for the meal my wife cooked for me...I am grateful that I had my raincoat with me because it rained...I am grateful to have beautiful and kind hearted children...I am grateful to have lost no-one to COVID-19.

A person might be grateful for the little things and for the overarching picture of one's life, and anything in between. And that's not a bad thing. It's nice.

However, according to the science, it's not nearly as good as developing a script about gratitude that you can write, rehearse, embed in the mind, and bring up for a minute or two on a regular basis.

I'm writing this from memory, no notes, and it was a long podcast I was listening to, but here's the idea in a nutshell.

First, we sort out lives best when we have a narrative. We like to have a beginning, a middle and an end; protagonists and antagonists. We like stories. It's the same for gratitude. It's too broad and random of strokes for us to come up with a little list of things for which to be grateful. We need some structure around it and creating that structure is straightforward.

So, sit quietly with yourself and cast your mind to a time near or far when you felt gratitude for something that someone did for you.

Alternatively, or as a second story, think about a time when you did something for someone else and felt the receiving of their gratitude.

Now, write yourself a little script. It could be bullet points but get it down on paper, or go through the motions of the experience visually in your mind.

Here is an example:

In October 2016 I returned from New Zealand where I attended a 7 day retreat, mainly experienced in silence.

The next day my family celebrated by birthday at a lunch held at a restaurant they knew I loved.

When we returned home after lunch they gave me a gift. There was a card and inside the card were two air tickets to Bali for my husband and me.

I instantly began to weep. This bamboozled them until I managed to get out the words, "I am so lucky to have you."

The gratitude I felt was a whole body and mind experience and was expressed in tears. My heart welled with gratitude and spilled over. I felt loved; lucky; appreciated; heartfelt gratitude.

So, there's a little script that I can use; would probably take a minute to conjure and feel through.

Apparently, it's this kind of minute of gratitude, repeated a few times a week, at any time of the day, that releases a positive emotional state that can effect a human in many optimal ways. Should you feel space in and around your heart I think you can take that to mean you did it right.

Etiquette

 Someone referred to me recently as "cautious"; that is, neither introverted nor extroverted, but cautious. I had never thought of it that way, but the more I thought about it, I came to the following conclusion.

I enjoy people, as a general rule. And, I enjoy time alone. I need both.

I don't need people to give me energy, like a light bulb requires energy. At the same time, I don't need, and don't want, to have energy sucked from me, or carry the negative energies of other people.

There's a distinct difference here which I am trying to put into words, mostly for myself.

My prisoner penpal...he's in a very rough spot and I don't expect him to provide me with energy (although he sometimes does), or even curiosity about my life. My positive energy, together with a keen listening ear is what I give to him. The correspondence we share is meaningful to me and I would miss it were it to come to an end.

I am very open to providing a listening ear in any number of situations and again, it's a gift I willingly give.

At the same time, I am subject to the ups and downs of being human. No-one can get away from this, unless you are an enlightened soul. Maybe the Dalai Lama can get away with it.

My nature is to be calm and positive; to work with momentum to move forward in life. I have built resilience to adapt to circumstances as they have unfolded to date.

Having said all that, I shy away from being brought down. Since the comment was made about me being cautious, I became aware of the fact that if I determine that an interaction or being in the company of someone in particular will bring me down, I do my best to avoid the circumstance, most especially if it happens again and again.

Years ago, I bought a book about living gracefully. It's somewhere on the book shelf. The writer made the comment that sometimes she isn't feeling her best and that when that happens she consciously chooses to keep her own company, rather than inflicting her negative mindset on someone else. 

As I was writing here today I was aware of reading the comment at the time and thinking this a good strategy. 

It's one thing to be a good friend, or spouse, or mother of an adult child and to offer them your ear. Generally speaking, that's the right thing to do.

However, to expect someone else to take on your emotional life in the moment - your frustration, or anger, or insecurity - much as they might ask you to wear their coat since they are overheated, is asking too much, even of an empath, or someone willing to give more than they take.

It's such a shame that the etiquette books of yesteryear are out of vogue. They contained much wisdom.

Mercy

 As Christmas Day fast approaches, I find myself experiencing all sorts of emotions. 

My oldest and much adored son will be moving to another capital city imminently and he will take, naturally enough, his son, due very soon to enter this world.  Covid provided me the luxury of plans being put off for almost a year, so the idea of not seeing him regularly was also put off into the backburner of my mind.

A few days ago I had framed an official photograph of his football team as Premiers of our AFL football league for 2009. (We always come close but haven't achieved glory since then.) It seemed a nice reminder of the city he loves whilst he was living in a warmer clime. I was doing fine until in conversation with the framer and it suddenly hit me why I was doing this task, and I got teary. 

Of course we will travel to them regularly but it's the first time one of my chickens has gone to live somewhere else permanently. It's only an hour's travel in the plane so it's not dire, but just a bit of a shock to the system. The saving grace, let me assure you, is that there is nowhere better to live than right here, so I know he will be back when he can (might have to get super senior in his company and insist because the market there is bigger than here). And, I know he'll want his son to go to his old school. There are forces behind the move back.

All in all, it's a lovely time of the year for me. It's the first time my grandsons will be at the beach, and we will all be there, so that's grand.

And yet, my mind returns, each and every day to a friend suffering with addiction 10,000 miles away. It's been without question the most rugged few months of his life. For a time, I had access to his sister, so while he was too ill to get me a message he was alive, I had her. But, he objected to the email interactions between us. I think, and I can't blame him, he felt we were colluding.

The point being, that having had a one liner email saying that he wasn't doing very well at all, and since then silence, I check my emails each day and due to the silence from him, I wonder if he is alive or dead.

Trust me when I say I have wracked my brain to think of something to do that is useful. Initially, I did all I could to get the people in his life to organize an intervention and get him to a long rehab situation where his body and mind had a chance to re-calibrate. I also aimed for time in a monastery. He needs a lot of silence; rest and peace. There simply wasn't the force behind the intention.

To my knowledge, he is alone at Christmas time in a vast city at a time of year he usually adores. In spite of my best efforts, my mind pulls back to that thought, and to all the people suffering right now.

I am filled with gratitude for what I have in my life but the best Christmas gift of all would be a note to say that he is being taken care of with people who know how to do that, and that in the end he will be all right. I don't think that note will come.

And so, I use this platform to urge you to be not just grateful but merciful this season.

Happy Holidays.

My little girl

 I happened to hear a woman describe this morning her complete inability to befriend her inner child. Basically, her little girl self looks at the grown woman and wants to know why on earth would she trust the grown woman.

This brought to mind the evolving sense that I have had of my 'inner child'. At first, when I heard that term and the term 'self love' I had no idea at all what those words meant. I became curious about the terms and went in search of definitions and descriptions. It was still academic to me.

(I did, however, sometimes embody her. I felt the vulnerability, the sweetness, the purity and innocence of her, long before I understood of her official existence within me. I had thought, for decades, it was my immaturity.)

In a meditative state, I tried to reach that younger part of me, and over time a young girl appeared in my mind's eye. She was me as I remember me at about eight years old. She had blond hair and was wearing it in plaits, just as I used to do at that time.

I couldn't help but notice that the little girl was inert, incapable of moving a muscle. Her arms were by her sides and she didn't make eye contact with me or anyone or anything else. She simply stared straight ahead. She spoke not a word or sound.

It went this way for many months. No words, no attempt to accept touch or comfort. She just stood there in the same spot in the place she lived, very close to the back door.

I offered the little girl an opportunity to come and live with me; to experience affection and joy. There was nothing left for her here, I said. No change. But, maybe she was listening, because one day there was a tentative smile, and she allowed a hug.

I promised her a wonderful home; loads of love and acceptance. I did this consistently, not expecting too much; giving her her time to develop trust in me.

One day, she agreed, and off she skipped to live with me, the grown woman. 

My heart swelled.

All that is a couple of years ago; pre Covid.

Last week, or the week before that, I was coming to the end of aYin Yoga class, deeply relaxed and completely embodied. And, out of the blue, without any conscious attempt by me I found myself saying (silently) to the little girl exactly these words:

"I love you. I love you dearly."

If you do the work, good things do happen.

'Interesting'

 This is an addendum to the last post, 'Just Sit'. It occurred to me, with the distance of a day since I wrote that post, that it could be interpreted by a reader as my suggesting that that's all that is required in all circumstances - to just sit.

Firstly, if you are new to meditation I would suggest you join a meditation class to avoid any pitfalls of thinking that there is some special way to meditate that you aren't doing. 

Also, a meditation practice adjusts over time and each person's experience is likely to be unique to them.

As an example, focusing on the breath - breathing in for the count of four, holding for two and breathing out for 4 (or longer) - works well for many people but not all people, who might do better just focusing on the sounds far away, or a mind picture that evokes tranquillity. 

And even if the breath is the point of focus for a while, it's unlikely to stay that way for the length of the meditation. When the mind offers some deep and intense revelation to the just sitting person, the breath is unlikely to be the focus.

I think it works well to maintain a sense of curiosity about the experience - wonder - of the workings of the mind in meditation.

I don't understand really why everyone isn't deeply curious about why they do what they do; the things that bother them, trigger them, delight them; bring them up, take them down.

As an example, I can catch myself these days in a 'longing' state. It comes up as needing something - more. But more of what? If I go in search of a piece of chocolate or follow a trail on the Internet to some object that Google thinks I might buy, is that about the chocolate or object? Hardly. Why aren't people interested in what's behind the behavior?

Enough. Enough. It's starting to sound like a rant.

The other concern I had about the 'just sit' post is that it might be construed by a reader as my suggesting that just sitting/meditation/silence was enough in all cases. It isn't. I tried psychological counseling twice and didn't get exactly what I needed but that's me and my life circumstances. It may well work for most others. And, if there are concerns sitting there - something that is denying you a sense of ease in your life - it's worth a try.

On that, I listen to a couple of psychologists chat on their podcast and I can say with confidence that finding a psychologist you like, and who likes you, is the name of the game. So, feel into the experience.If you are not comfortable, try someone else.

I went my own way, largely; read lots, listened to lots and felt into my experience. There were miscues and missteps but I think you could chalk that up to 'life'.

I very much like the idea of Elizabeth Gilbert, the writer. (Eat, Pray, Love; The Signature of All Things) who said that 'interesting' was a word she uses a lot now. So, the only person who fully understood her died. That's interesting. She thought she couldn't live without her but there she was eating a sandwich. Apparently, she could live without her. That's interesting...

In other words, rather than fuss so much about what happens to us on this journey we call 'life' we could note how interesting the twists and turns; how interesting the thoughts and feelings of a meditation sit.

There's so much less angst in that word, don't you think?

Just sit

There is a strong tendency to view the busy person as the right model for our culture. It suggests productivity and social connection. There's something to that.

Problems ensue however when a person is so busy that the notion of sitting still is scary. 

I think introverted types have much less trouble here. Seeking to spend time with themselves, there's more chance they might look out the window and watch the rain, do some yoga stretches and deep breathing, journal; take a bath.

You wouldn't be entirely wrong if you wondered if I hadn't set up my life so that there was at least a chance for these type of activities.

Now that I am in the officially 'old' category I give myself more time to simply 'be'. There's no guilt or shame about this (most of the time). There's relief.

I am still subjected to a mind that demands each day has some sort of 'progress' to it, even if that's just the progress of feeding family, preparing for Christmas, or getting to the end of my book club book - but I am more willing than ever to just call a particular day largely my own. 

To not go out, that's a day to my Self. (Self=one's true nature)

I heard somebody say recently, on a podcast I suspect, that meditation was an invitation to give yourself permission to do nothing. Ah yes, perhaps the Zen monk that was talking about zazen meditation!

So, in zazen meditation you just sit.  Thoughts, feelings, sensations...will occur. No need to focus on them or resist them. Just let them come...and go. No guidance, no music, no bells and whistles. Just sit.

This morning I heard 'The Urban Monk' say that meditation was a bit like growing tomatoes. Only a fool would plant tomato seeds and expect to eat tomatoes tomorrow. In 90 days, with good tending, you have yourself some excellent tomatoes. 

Just sit. Be patient. It only gets better.

Shining a Light

There are times in one's life that seem so easy one takes them for granted. And then come the inevitable difficult times. 

A spiritual leader I follow talks about rehearsing for those difficult times by appreciating what is good; stopping to smell the roses so to speak; like building up a fortress of contentment and ease with the present moment such that it can buttress you against the difficult times that will inevitably come.

Sometimes, difficult or sad things collide with one another creating a labyrinth of difficult issues that seem hard to navigate.

If I try to describe this feeling, it's like things are out of place; like there's confusion in the natural order of things.

Then, it's time to walk; to let the dust settle so to speak; to let the dirt settle in the jar and fall to the bottom of the jar so that the water becomes clear.

Then one sees more clearly.

Yes, a pet will die, maybe earlier than we thought. It's heartbreaking but it's a tender time too; when we savor the moments left; when love is abundant and transparent. Be Here Now.

Relationships may end. Wouldn't it be lovely if we could end those relationships with grace; with civility and a sense of love. All that love. Did it just vanish? So much abundant love, gone up in smoke? Highly unlikely, I say. Something is covering the heart; a denial that seems necessary to do what is being done, but love itself remains, even if hidden from view.

As part of the Compassion Prison Project, which I highly recommend, I exchange letters with a man on death row. I think you might be surprised at how easy it is to do this; two souls writing to one another. That's the way I see it.

Tough love. Does that really work? I am not an advocate. Teaching, showing, modelling, providing opportunities for people to dig deep into their core and be resilient; that's worth doing, absolutely, but without love in the heart, without a sense of a soul touching a soul, I am not sure you are doing any good.

We, as humans, have so much capacity to shine a light in the darkness. I wonder why we let that opportunity go so readily.