Last week, on yet another murky day after a sunny teaser, I found myself absorbing everything I witnessed on my short walk to work: the woman obviously high and helpless propped up by a man who was not; the squalling of a toddler after his mother shook him hard; the empty booze nips rolling under brittle oak leaves; the pigeon picking at dried vomit.I felt the gray. I felt the bleakness. And the air filled me with a hopelessness I found difficult to shake.
By afternoon, I was in quite the funk, further compounded by news that not one, but two, people I knew had died. One after battling chronic illness, the other by his own hand. I guess you could say he also battled a chronic illness.
I suppose intensity of feeling is a hallmark of being a writer, a painter, a creator. After more than a year of intense personal turmoil, I'd practiced a way to moderate those feelings: meditation. I practiced meditation so I could find peace and strength to stay in the moment, no matter how hellish the moment. I also practiced to be able to ride through those moments of intense anxiety and depression that my life was peppered with for so long. I like to save meditation saved me, because it helped me to stay mindful of instants I needed to be mindful rather than lose my shit.
But this day last week revealed to me how after six months of relative peace, I'd become complacent again. I went to meditation practice the next night, and the leader, a wonderful wise woman, asked: why do we meditate? After discussion, she summed it up neatly:
We practice meditation so the mind doesn't control us, we control our mind.
As a writer--as a person--I am learning the challenge of allowing feelings to wash over and through me, to let them permeate me, and then: to let them go.
Do you have a meditation practice? Do you wish you did? Let's talk.
Peace...
Posts
The fifteen second rule is what I've come to rely on. In those quiet, unbusy moments when all the worries/sadness/badness floods my mind, I do this. I acknowledge it, give it my full attention. Then, I tell all those things, yes, you are there and yes I feel you and tomorrow or the next day or whenever you need to be acknowledged I will do so. But, I don't have the power to change you for the better, and, your fifteen seconds are up. It's right for me to move on to other things that help me be whole before I become completely consumed by you. Being whole helps me embrace your true meaning. And, then I don't feel guilty about letting go.
ReplyDeletePeace to you friend. Beautifully expressed, as always.
I like the 15 second rule. I used to have a 9-day rule when I was a kid--3 days to feel bad, 3 days to wallow, and 3 days to turn it around. I think I like your 15 seconds of mindfulness better! Peace...
DeleteYes! I'm relatively new to mindfulness practice, but it allows me to rest in joyful moments and patiently wait as unpleasant experiences pass. Whenever I have a lapse in practice, there's a pretty dramatic negative shift in well-being.
ReplyDeleteI feel that negative space as well when I stop practicing mindfulness. Feelings fade is what my kid's therapist says, and it's true. Thanks for popping by! Peace...
DeleteI find peace, solace and mindfullness in the garden. I allow myself to feel whatever it is, and let it go. Nature will outlast me, and will certainly outlast my worries. I suppose that what I practise is an inelegant version of Deborah Bundy's fifteen second rule.
ReplyDeleteYou and your garden! Whenever I *visit* you, I also feel peace. I like what you say about nature outlasting us all--so true, so wise. Peace...
ReplyDeleteYes, I wish I had a meditation practice.
ReplyDeleteDr. Simoni-Wastila, I'm so glad I've come across your blog! I would love to have a meditation practice, but I don't know where to begin.
ReplyDelete