Mindfulness – Page 3 – Frantic Shanti

When Gratitude is Hard, Try Appreciation

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After last week’s post about writing out your stressors, I wanted to follow up with something positive so that we’re not left thinking about all the rough stuff that we have to deal with.

And how better to do that than by counting your blessings? Ok, so I realize that sometimes it’s not so easy to get excited about a great cup of coffee or the fact that it’s almost Friday when you are drowning under a pile of bills or dreading the arrival of combatative relatives.

But part of a resistance to gratitude, at least as far as I’ve experienced it, is feeling that it’s forced. I’ve written a number of posts about this—seems like I hit on this topic at least once a year—and guess what? It’s time for this year’s version.

This week, I’m posting on the magic of gratitude again, but this time for the recalcitrant ‘gratituder’. Full disclosure: sometimes that’s me.

When gratitude doesn’t come easily then maybe we just need to reinterpret how we view gratitude and what it expects of us.

And that can be achieved by switching out the term “gratitude” with “appreciation”.

Appreciating the glorious scent of a bunch of lavender? Yep, that’s gratitude!
(Photo by Richárd Ecsedi on Unsplash)

That’s it. You don’t have to do anything else. Looking at a sunset? Just appreciate the beautiful colors—no need to “wallow in gratitude” about it. You have a cup of coffee? Just appreciate that you’ve got that cup of coffee warming your hands.

Sounds too simple? It is simple and that’s why I love this. Because thinking of it as appreciation rather than GRATITUDE takes some pressure off. All of a sudden, there is a whole world of things that we can appreciate without feeling like we need to crawl on our knees to be grateful for them.

And of course, the silly little truth about this is that appreciation IS gratitude. No matter what label you place on it, it gets us to the same place. It’s quite beautiful how suddenly we find that we can be appreciative, meaning we can be grateful for the little things in our lives without a need to force anything.

One of the posts I wrote about this included the realization that it can be the little things in life (for instance, being able to walk around pain-free after a tweaked muscle heals) that mean so much for our quality of life. And that is a very important thing indeed.

I encourage you to try it out this week: look around and see how many things you can genuinely appreciate, no gratitude required. 😉

(And yes, I’m making a list again.)

Staying Calm is the Best Revenge

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Yes, revenge is not a nice word. But if you’re having “that kind of a day” it just might offer you the kick in the pants that you need.

Here’s an example: last week was hectic for me. There were additional work demands on top of which popped up all sorts of fires that I needed to put out. Things were not going smoothly, I missed out on exercise, wasn’t sleeping well, got a letter of rent increase, had an upset stomach—all of which were dragging me into a funk.

With all the negative things coming at me, I lost my emotional footing.

So…I decided to take revenge on the bad news, work emergencies and everything else.

And I was going to do it by not letting it affect me. I even wrote “revenge” on a sticky note and put it up on my computer monitor (NOT at work! At home, where it’s easier to explain myself).

Just say “NO” to allowing the negatives in life to run you ragged. You show ’em!
(Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash)

Like I mentioned at the top of the post, revenge brings with it all sorts of negative connotations. It’s kind of like giving in to the “dark side” and using your anger, frustration, despair and whatnot to overcome you. I’m NOT advocating for that.

But there is a certain fire and focus that the concept of revenge embodies…yes, we can call it passion, but I’m not in the mood for that. So I’ll stick with simple revenge with the understanding that sometimes, little rebels that we are, we will do exactly the opposite of what the situations are drawing out of us. Just because.

Freak out? No, you bully, watch me remain calm. Heart starts racing? No no no, I soothe myself with deep breaths and extended exhales. Scary thoughts fluttering wildly in my head? Nope, I bring my attention down to my feet and seat, settling down into where I am now.

No temporary wrinkles are going to ruffle me. And I know that all these things are TEMPORARY. This might be fierce defiance that I’m dipping into, like a recalcitrant toddler, but if it works, it works.

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This is probably not what the great teachers of mindfulness had in mind…but, ehh, today I’m not playing nice.

“Lightening Up”: A Breathing Visualization

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Since I’ve found my stress levels higher this year, I’ve been playing with ways to quickly calm myself down.

Here’s one that I’ve been using lately. It’s very simple and involves a basic visualization, but has also been effective in grounding me fast.

And it goes like this…

Sit comfortably on a stable seat with a dignified upright posture, not too rigid, not too loose. Close the eyes or, if you prefer, soften your gaze with eyes cast downwards.

Then start slowing your breath, deepening your inhale and extending your exhale. Not focusing on a particular part of the breath cycle, but more on your entire body, noticing it rock with the breath, feeling it settle with every exhale.

Every inhale gives you a lift.
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As this becomes comfortable, start visualizing the expansion and contraction of your body, as if the breath were a hollowing out of your insides. Imagine that inside you there is a space like a balloon. And the inhale is an inflation of the balloon, with the exhale a gentle relaxation of that stretch.

No need to imagine specifics about the balloon, what’s important is to notice the stretch and an opening inside as the air flows in, the expansion releasing muscles that might be tight from stress. And then, as the air flows out, notice the softening and relaxation of the body.

As you continue the inhale and exhale, feel the lightening of the body as it expands, followed by the gentle sinking as it contracts. See if you can notice yourself lift off as you breathe in, as if you were filling up with helium. But then settle into your seat as you breath out.

Continue like this, noticing yourself get progressively lighter, so that when you settle with the exhales, you still maintain some bouyancy.

This type of breathing meditation helps me “lighten up” when I feel overwhelmed, like I’m getting crushed by whatever the stressor is. Putting focus on the body keeps me out of my head and the deep breaths are soothing.

Hope this helps you too!

Rappeling Down through the Strata: A Grounding Exercise

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It’s been a very weird few weeks for me. My stress levels have been climbing, and while I can kind of, sort of point to certain anxiety-provoking events that might be responsible…there’s nothing truly significant that would elicit this type of response.

Regardless, I’ve been spending more time in the “higher strata” of myself, and I don’t mean this in a good sense. Another way of putting it is that I’m all up in my own head, bouncing around and being pummeled by all sorts of thoughts, expectations, fears, unreasonable beliefs and the like.

Oooo, there I am, stuck in my own head.
(Photo by Taylor Brandon on Unsplash)

Usually I know when this is happening, but this time I was too preoccupied with the worries of those around me that I didn’t notice myself drift up and stake a camp in the swamp of my mind.

Even my meditations tended to get stuck up there. Time to rappel down.

I get myself down this way: first by acknowledging the mess that I’m dealing with in my head, the rainstorm whipping up swirling thoughts. Not all my concerns are unreasonable, but they are pointless to get hung up on in this moment.

Next, I focus on the noise on the street outside (there is always noise on our street, but the longer I listen, the greater chance that I’ll hear a bird or other wildlife sounds). I bring my attention out to the expanse around me—getting out of the cramped space between my ears.

That’s a nice break. But I can’t ignore myself forever. So I feel into the sensations on my face: the feeling of the air (hot or cool), noticing the weight of my glasses on my nose, perhaps an itch on the scalp or cheek.

And here I go, rappeling down to a place where I can ground myself and return to the present moment.
(Photo by Ben Kitching on Unsplash)

Then I drop down to my neck and shoulders, giving them a roll as I go, and then towards my chest. Here I pause and bring focus to my breathing. Usually that results in an automatic slowing of the breath, as I notice my ribs expand and contract.

But after a brief stay I rappel down and out more quickly, into my hands and feet. Noticing how my hands feel on whatever surface they lie. And how my feet feel against the earth.

I imagine that my feet are part of the bedrock, joining the rest of the Earth’s crust. Connected and solid, forming a stable base.

And from down here, I look back up to where those clouds around my head were bringing furious rain, and they seem so far away. I’m peaceful and unruffled here on the ground. Down here is what’s really happening in the present, without being affected by the past and future. And what’s happening is just what’s happening, neither good nor bad.

Taking a deep breath, maybe a yawn, I stretch my body out the way I do when waking from a long sleep, enjoying the slight shiver of the muscles.

And then, on to the rest of my day a little bit calmer.

“I Can’t Do It…But If I Could…”

^{(Title image: Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash)}

What would that feel like?

After a few weeks away for a funeral in my hometown, it’s not so simple to jump back into what I was doing before.

This has led to some ‘motivation’ issues (complicated by the grieving process, no doubt). As a result, I’ve been reviewing how I tackle difficult tasks. Before I undertake anything that I consider less palatable, it’s not unusual for me to have some sort of visceral reaction to the idea of the task. I think this is true for many of us. And we might not even be aware that this is taking place.

Encountering resistance to initating projects?
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But if that response is strong enough and negative enough, it can shut down the possibility of accomplishing the task in front of us.

If we can’t get past that point, we don’t tackle the things we should. Unfortunately, those may be the kinds of things that help us grow personally, professionally, health-wise and the like.

So I have a suggestion for you. The next time you have that “ugh, I can’t do that” reaction, stop and consider:

* But…what if I could?
* How would I go about taking care of that? What steps would I take?
* What would it feel like to know that I was doing it?
* How great would it feel to be done?

When you start answering these questions for yourself, several things happen. You introduce the possibility of starting, making it less daunting. Sometimes that’s the hardest part. You open up a path for moving forward, breaking down what needs to be done into small steps. You may imagine yourself taking care of things and bring them into reality.

So what does this look like? Take cleaning as an example, something that I usually put off. “House cleaning” as a concept may seem like a monolithic undertaking. There are so many other things that I’d like to be doing, and many of them important. But consider, what might it be like to just, say, grab the vacuum cleaner and vacuum one area…yeah, that seems doable. And maybe after that, just empty some trash cans. How would it feel to do that? Not to get bogged down in the process but to move through it.

The “Done” List

Try a different kind of list. Instead of (or in addition to) a “to-do” list, make a “done” list. Write down everything you’ve accomplished. It can feel really good to see what you’ve done and more positive than simply crossing off items on a “to-do” list since you’re adding accomplishments instead of taking away tasks.

Note your accomplishments instead of simply crossing out tasks.
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If you have a particularly difficult time getting motivated, split your already-split-up tasks up into even smaller parts: instead of waiting until you’ve “vacuumed the house” to write it down, note that you “vaccuumed the entry way”, “vacuumed the front part of the living room”, even “vaccumed the doormat”. It counts. Because no matter what you’ve done, it’s still better than not having done anything, even if it’s just one thing.

Let your own need for putting completed tasks behind you be the guide for how granular to get with this.

I do this when I clean. And, yes, my go-to is the vacuum to get started. Or sometimes the toilet. But it could also be doing the dishes, something that I’ve actually dreaded in the past but realized that it takes a surprisingly short time. Our brains are what stop us from proceeding so make the process rewarding to your gray matter.

Many of the tasks that we don’t undertake are simpler, easier and take less time than we anticipate (or fear!). The key is to not psych ourselves out, instead breaking them down into bite-sized pieces and recognizing their completion as a reality. Even if you don’t do it all, you’ve done part, bouyed by the knowledge that it doesn’t have to be perfect to count. This builds positive associations with getting things done.

No matter how much you do, it’s all good.

Staying Present in Discomfort: Being Here When You’d Rather Not

^{Title image: Photo by Tolga Ulkan on Unsplash}

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Thank you everyone for your patience during this time of my father’s passing from cancer and dementia. I have appreciated the quiet visit to my childhood home, supporting my mother and being comforted by close friends and relatives.
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There are times that the present moment is an uncomfortable place to be in.

That’s when things are not going well and you want the current situation to be over so that you can move past it and onto healing. But one could argue that this is exactly the time you need to sink even deeper into the present moment.

And even more important to get more granular and still. To observe what is going on even more closely. To understand the important of this very point in time, how it will never come again in the same way. And even in this discomfort there is something to learn, something to lean into, something to accept.

I felt this strain while my father was still in in-home hospice, declining at a pace that was both quick and slow depending on what you’re focusing on. It evoked an axiety in me: wanting to hold on to him and save him–but knowing that this was an impossibility. The tug of time is unrelenting, taking everything with it like a glacier or a tsunami that continues onward no matter what is in its way.

But this is also an opportunity to remember that the impermanence of life does not take away from the joy and beauty of it. Dropping down into what is happening right now, taking a front seat on top of that glacier/tsunami, and allowing everything to be here is the way to appreciate all of this.

So while I would rather that the things that were happening not be happening, I couldn’t stop them. I sat here trying to understand my feelings and allowing gratitude for my father’s long life to remain in the forefront. There was peace in knowing that he was living his last days at home, in familiar surroundings with my mother there.

I could have made all sorts of stories up about what he was feeling or thinking, but the reality is that I didn’t know. So I didn’t pretend and instead noticed the sounds around me, the feeling of the air on my skin and the knowledge that my father’s imminent passing unscored all the many things about him and my own life that I have to be thankful for.

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It’s easier to ignore reality and think about other things, but that doesn’t help us deal with them.

A Rock in a Bubbling Stream [Visualization]

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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.
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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.
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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.

Exactly Where You’re Supposed to Be

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Some time ago, I was thinking how I got to where I am and was seized by a sense of regret and shame. This was not where I thought I’d be by this age.

So many things that I’d worked for education-wise, health-wise, career-wise seemed to have been derailed by decisions I’d made based on life circumstances that I didn’t feel I could control…or by just plain bad luck (cancer, I’m looking at you).

As I pondered this, I became enveloped in it, slipping down a dark hole, trying to squash those negative feelings—the ones that get buried for a while only to pop back up at 3am some night.

But then I thought, “Ok, so how about another way of looking at this?”

What if how I am now was the end goal all along?

What if where you are right now is where you need to be for the rest of your life to work out according to plan?
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And that shift in perspective allowed me to look at the things that I felt I hadn’t fully achieved as being “the plan” for creating me as I am now.

And what I am now is made up of the valuable experiences that I was labeling as half-done or poorly-executed or forced upon me—but no, perhaps they were all so necessary for setting up myself in this place with this knowledge. And from here, preparing me to move forward.

A master’s degree I haven’t used for a couple of decades, a job situation that falls below my career aspirations, a body that is limping back from injuries and cancer, a mind that can be my worst enemy. The experience of all of these brings with it wisdom and insight. And strength.

Where I am now is exactly where I need to be for the next chapter of my life. The foundation for future-me has been established.

So, how about you?

What if you spin the timeline around, understanding and appreciating who you are now, however “imperfect” it might seem to you, social media, whomever else serves as the judge of your life. This is now your starting point.

What’s your next step?

How can you take everything that’s come before you and allow it to support the incredible you that you will become?

Kidney Stones: Errr, Maybe Not?

^{(Title image: Photo by 愚木混株 cdd20 on Unsplash)}

So my health has taken an interesting turn.

About a week ago, I went to see a nurse practitioner (NP) for an interesting combination of symptoms: nausea and middle back pain. After listening to my complaints, she determined that the cause was most likely kidney stones.

So…I’m not the typical kidney stone sufferer…but I wasn’t the typical breast cancer getter either, so I accepted her diagnosis while we awaited lab confirmation of whether there was blood in my urine (TMI, sorry).

And then I proceeded to waste an entire weekend on the Internet, driving myself bonkers about what foods contained oxalates (a common kidney stone culprit) and how to combine foods that did with calcium, but not too much calcium.

I was treading in the Wild West of the Internet and I soon learned that kidneys are big business and everyone not only has an opinion, but is also selling something.

Kidneys = $$$ and clear and concise info was harder to find than I anticipated. More stress!
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At the same time, except for one relatively bad night with a lot of pain, most of my symptoms remained mild-ish. Definitely not “hurts more than childbirth” level.

However, as a result of this, I was afraid to eat, which seemed to increase the pain and I realized that it was actually kinda sorta in my stomach?

Four days after submitting the urine sample, my NP called with the results: no blood in the urine.

That made the “kidney stones” story more difficult to believe. So after more discussions with her, she settled on the possibility that I might just be experiencing particularly bad heartburn and prescribed omeprazole to reduce the levels of acid my stomach produces.

This actually made a lot of sense to me. I am one of those “stress non-eaters”: in difficult situations I lose my appetite quickly, go for longer periods without eating and tend to lose weight. That leaves a lot of time for my stomach to sit empty.

But this also brings up another point that I find personally interesting. I have consistently been doing better with handling general stress and anxious episodes. I now have a plan for stress that includes understanding my reactions and using mindfulness, meditation and exercise. As a result, I experience far fewer episodes of runaway anxiety.

Stomach, stress…it all feels like fire.
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However, I am not able to control everything that happens in my body. I might be able to soften my response to stress and anxiety, but over the long term my body may still show signs of wear and tear from the pressures that I face.

This may also mean that while I’m doing great with keeping my stress levels lower, I might not be doing as great as I think I am. If this is truly “heartburn” or a little ulcer or something, it’s a reminder that managing stress is a constant process that requires vigilance.

Oh, and there’s also the oxalate thing, which my NP said not to stress over since it’s probably not a kidney stone. Which is good. Except now I’ve bought a bunch of low-oxalate foods, a number of which are the ones that I learned I should avoid for stomach issues.

Health is becoming a nonstop game of whack-a-mole.