Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow

Flowers in my yard. We all take time and patience grow.

Tonight memory emerged as a main theme during my Buddhist book discussion group, where we are currently reading Happiness: A Guide to Developing Life's Most Important Skill by Matthieu Ricard, a French-born Buddhist monk. We focused on finding inner-knowledge, regardless of our personal histories, by making a regular practice of quieting our minds to allow for new inspiration. Following prescriptions forged by past experiences do not always lead to productive decisions.  We can become trapped in a cycle by reacting as we always have. That can lead us back to exactly where we started.

This topic led to a bit of an aside. We discussed how our past changes us, how we reflect upon previous experiences, and how we only know turning points in our lives upon looking back. We do not have to disavow our pasts in order to make effective choices. Sometimes we learn by getting burned - by a flame, candle or otherwise, for example. Our pasts shape us, but our memories do not have to control us. 

This idea inspired me. Someone mentioned that he can look at memories with a clarity that is not present when the past is, well, present. We extract information and insight from experiences as they are occurring, but we gain wisdom from observing our pasts from afar. Distance from an event, in both time and space, allows us to look back upon an experience without being affected emotionally. We can remember past occurrences without reliving them. We can become observers of our own lives. That is when the fruit of the past is ripe for picking, eating and digesting. Some experiences take more time to ripen than others; sometimes we remain embroiled in the present (presence?) of an experience for so long, we do not know how to quell the blaze.

Here are a couple examples of experiences that have affected me greatly - one is old and silly, the other is recent and serious: 

1) For YEARS I was embarrassed about a middle school incident - because middle school is rough on everyone, and even little events become gigantic traumas. My shoe squeaked in gym class one day when we were all silently lined up in our rows, and my classmates accused me of farting. I was so humiliated, and it took time, distance and the realization that a) I am probably the only person who remembers the event, and b) I have actually farted in front of people who really mean something to me. Finally, after years of reliving the red-faced heat of that moment, I can look back and see the humor. I am no longer so afraid of standing out, because I know I can live through/with embarrassment; 

2) When my Aunt Vickie died unexpectedly a couple months ago, I played that day over and over again as if it were my favorite record. I relived the phone call, the drive over to my aunt and uncle's house, the first sight of my cousins' faces, my uncle's pain, and on and on and on. I drowned in those feelings. They prevented me from sleeping and caused intense panic attacks. This event has caused trauma of a different sort - related to my own mortality, the mortality of those I love, the fear of being alone, etc. It took going to a therapist and meditating regularly to begin to dissipate those feelings. It's only been a couple of months, so, obviously, the forces of that event are still affecting me. I still do not have the clarity of distance my acquaintance mentioned, but I really want this experience to be profound in the most positive way possible. Because I do not want to be ill, I have decided to make coping an activity into which I put real energy. I am developing skills I can take along with me into future experiences.

I am in no way a Jedi Master, a guru, a saint or a genius. I am a person who thinks too much, too deeply, and, at times, too darkly. I most certainly chew the cud too often. From my perspective, time, patience and space from an experience help. So does intentionally re-focusing my mind whenever I start to ruminate. Feeling that I have a choice in what I think about, and intention in how I think and act, makes me feel like I am in control of the content of my life. I may not be able to control what happens during my life, but I can react in ways that benefit my well-being by being conscious of my thoughts and actions.

Any reflections on memories and how your recover from the past, apply lessons to the present, and take the skills learned into the future?

Alison :)

Bagels, Birds and Buddhism

Freshly grilled and filled with a thick slab of cream cheese, I purchased the most memorable bagel of my life from a street vendor in New York City. An iced mocha accompanied it. The vendor added sugar by the tablespoon, and it grated my tongue as I slurped my drink down. While I have tried many interesting foods, this gritty sensory explosion remains one of my favorite gastronomical experiences.

The bagel and iced mocha I purchased today paled by comparison. However, I enjoyed the crisp yet chewy consistency of the bagel, made gooey by the slathering of melting cream cheese. I relished the bittersweet mocha as I watched birds bicker over crumbs. I enjoyed the shade, the light breeze, and all the passersby oblivious to my attention. I was participating fully in the moment.

It is no secret I have been having a tough time in the aftermath of the death of my Aunt Vickie. This unexpected, untimely death has drudged up so many fears and questions. One thing that has made this season of grief, anxiety and upsetting thoughts more bearable has been the knowledge that all my grief symptoms are completely normal. I am not doing anything unique. The true godsend, though, has been my discovery of a mindfulness meditation group. Years ago, I meditated often on my own as part of my yoga practice. It made me feel calm, attentive, and connected to a reality larger than myself and this existence. For me, it was a form of prayer, and I felt enlivened by the practice. Over time, though, I fell away from meditation, prayer, or anything of the like.

Recently, I began attending group meditation sessions. Before my aunt died, I had been searching for that spiritual connectedness I used to have, but afterward I was hoping it would help me heal. Through searching, I found out about these nondenominational meditation sessions and decided to attend one. I am so glad I did. It has really opened a doorway for me. So far, the benefits have been enormous. These meditation sessions give me the opportunity to slough away my thoughts and be completely in the moment, which reduces my anxiety tremendously. I can also employ these freeing techniques outside of class when I really need them. In addition to the meditation itself, the acquaintances I sit with in silence are becoming the spiritual community I have been missing as of late. We all think and know differently, but we support each other along our parallel paths. 

Before one of my first meditation sessions, I told the meditation leader I really gained a lot from chanting as a form of meditation. You cannot help but be present when your whole body and mind are activated through the spoken word. She told me she would be chanting for a whole hour after our group meditation. I said, "I'm in." I stuck around while some people left and other people joined the group. It turns out I had joined in on what I think of as a Buddhist prayer service. We chanted prayer mantras and contemplated compassion and loving-kindness. During that first session, I was completely focused on the sound of the words as they flowed from my gut through my mouth, and, out of the ether, I had a bit of an epiphany: I am a religious mutt, just as I am a Euro-mutt. At that point, I shrugged away my embarrassment about not actually being Buddhist. The people who know me and my spiritual ups and downs, will not be surprised by this huge announcement-to-self. I do not know if I am going through a phase, or if I am at the beginning of a new focus. At this point, I don't know if I will ever become a Buddhist, if I will return to attending the Christian church of my childhood, or if I will seek out an entirely different church community. All I can say is that I like the Buddhists. I find sense in their philosophies and sensibility in their practices. Maybe I can't ultimately have it all ways, but this is where I am right now: label free and loving it.

If you would like to share, I would love to hear your stories of religious/spiritual awakenings, or even the complete opposite.

Alison :)

 

Night Senses

I hear the fan's squeaky rotation, a dog crying for his mistress, laughter from my neighbor's front porch, and the occasional car passing by.

I see inspirational quotes above my computer screen in a half-darkened room.

I feel smooth keys depress beneath my fingers and the edge of my desk cutting into my palms.

I smell pizza and long for a bite. 

I taste minty fresh residue left from my nightly teeth brushing ritual.

What are you sensing at this very moment?

Alison :)