Month: July 2024

A Rock in a Bubbling Stream [Visualization]

(Photo by Hendrik Cornelissen on Unsplash)

There’s a lot going on in my family at this time, most importantly the transition of my father to in-home hospice care, signaling that a life chapter will be coming to a close. That’s one of those things that you know is going to happen but usually don’t want to think about.

It’s these kinds of changes that unsettle us the most because they’re significant shake-ups of life as we know it. In the case of my family, this change was not unexpected and yet it is still not easy.

The uncertainties associated with end-of-life issues can be unsettling.
(Photo by Pylyp Sukhenko on Unsplash)

But I can draw on my meditation practice and ability to stay present to accept things are they are now.

It helps to use a visualization in the midst of emotional upheaval. So I think of myself as being a rock in a rushing stream. You know, one of those rocks that sticks out about the water’s surface and might serve as a comfortable sunning place for a river turtle.

The rock sits still even thought there is a rushing tumult all about. The water parts around it and then rejoins on the opposite side, but the rock remains there, unmoving and unbothered.

The rock doesn’t hinder the flow but neither does it get carried away by it. And as it sits, so do I, observing and understanding and accepting everything that is going on around me. Not getting caught up in my head and taken away by thoughts.

Mindfulness meditation provides me with a stable rock from which I observe the tumult of life as it rushes by.
(Photo by Simon Berger on Unsplash)

There will come a time to grieve but now I focus on what is happening in the moment and how I can support my parents. There is gentle planning as I get more information about the situation. And always, taking deep breaths, feeling into my hands and feet, staying grounded. From this vantage point, I can clearly see what needs to be done today.

“This is what’s happening now. Tomorrow may be different, but at this point in time, I am here.”

So the coming weeks may bring shorter posts, perhaps a skipped one here or there. There will be much to do and it will all get done in time. Decisions will be made as they come up. Focus remains on each task at hand. Even if responsibilities come fast, I find a stable base in my practice that helps support a strong relationship with my family.

The river rushes relentlessly. But I know it’s there and expect the constant movement. Changes become familiar, fear drops away and I am comfortable where I sit, calm as I watch the waters flow past me and then continue onward.

Entering a Dimension of Calm

(Title image: Photo by Ksenia Makagonova on Unsplash)

One of the amazing “side effects” of meditation for me has been that the calm I experience while I’m on my meditation cushion has been leaking into the rest of my life.

This did not happen overnight. As a matter of fact, it took a number of years (I am currently on 7+ years of daily meditation). But through the ups and downs of my sessions, there’s been a wonderful build-up of grounding and calm.

Yes, I still get smacked with a powerful wave of anxiety from time to time. But recovery is quicker and I don’t feel like I’m being dragged under, disoriented.

The raw dimension is slippery and loud and agitated.
(Photo by Martin Adams on Unsplash)

What I have been feeling lately is that there is a dimensionality to how I experience the world. It’s like this: there is the raw world, which has lots of hard edges and bright lights–overexposed, washed out colors–and loud noises. That’s the world I used to live in exclusively and it felt like a whoosh flying at me and pulling me in, allowing no control over what was hitting me, nor much of a way to steer myself.

But now, I’ve transcended that dimension somewhat. I’ve found a much more grounded dimension, perhaps a more soothing shade–think “golden hour”. The colors are deeper, the pace is slower, the sounds are gentler, the edges are softer. In this dimension, I find my roots quickly, feeling my feet on the floor and connection to the earth, to what is stable and unchanging.

The calm dimension invites deep breaths and beckons us into the present moment.
(Photo by Jasper Boer on Unsplash)

Here, I hear my breath and feel the tingle in my hands. I notice when I’m clenching my jaw, furrowing my brow, hunching my shoulders. I am also aware of when the raw dimension starts pushing to the forefront and am able to prioritize creating a safe space so that I don’t leave myself exposed.

This may sound very woo-woo but I assure you it’s not. It’s very much down-to-earth and sensible. There is no otherworldly magic at work. Just the understanding that my nervous system needs to feel safe and stable, and that I can offer myself a protective shield not by running away, but by settling into where I am.

It is as if there is a comfy blanket that I draw around myself, and from there I sit and watch and process and, if necessary, deflect the things around me. This is the gift that consistent meditation along with mindfulness have given me, and it feels like for the first time I’m experiencing life the way it was meant to be lived. Not as something to dodge and weave around but something to grow with.

Pictures at an Exhibition: Re-framing Your Fears

(Title image: Photo by Dannie Jing on Unsplash)

I have a history of getting myself wrapped up in future fears and past regrets. It can be terrifying and difficult to shut off, especially during very stressful events.

I have to be honest, there was a time when I was afraid that if something seemed so real in my head, something I could describe in fine detail and feel the fear via physiological responses in my body, it was more likely to come true.

I don’t know how that actually started. It might have been some form of “magical thinking” that suggested that if I’m having a response, it was a premonition that accurately predicted the future. Or maybe I was so frightened by how real it felt. Regardless, it was difficult to shake.

With the help of mindfulness, meditation and expert guidance from a counselor, I found it easier to notice when this was happening. It took years to get to this point and the shift was very gradual.

It’s not a perfect shift, however. From time to time, I still get run through the wringer by fearful thoughts so I’ve developed a silly practice to help myself defang this beast. When I realize I’ve been caught, I grab the thought and run to the nearest art gallery–in my mind.

It’s the ability to step back and put space between yourself and your fears that makes this such a helpful practice.
(Photo by Xavier von Erlach on Unsplash)

Yes, I realize this sounds strange, but hear me out: (1) I recognize that an anxious thought is particularly sticky, (2) I compress it into a two-dimensional image, and (3) place it in an imaginary frame on an imaginary wall in an imaginary environment that I define, and finally (4) I step back to give myself some space–as if I were at an art gallery evaluating a painting–and note that it is only a picture, one that I could potentially remove from the exhibition and send to storage.

Then I ground myself in the present, feeling my feet on the real floor where I actually am.

This kind of manipulation requires some imagination and, like I mentioned, this practice can seem a little silly. But it does help to recognize that the thing that elicited such a strong response in us is really just a simple thought. We can choose what to do with that thought.

IMPORTANT: I acknowledge that the physical responses are real and they might be driven by the real possibility of something bad happening. We don’t have a crystal ball to tell us with 100% certainty what will take place in the future. But what we do know is that nothing is happening now. If you can clear the foreboding images out of your mind you will realize that in this moment you are safe. And that is a very comforting place to be.