A couple of weeks ago, I posted about meditation.
Meditation is really, really hard for me. I know you all heard this all before but it is harder than making myself work out, harder than passing up cake, harder than pull-ups. and pull-ups are really hard.
The thing for me, about meditation, is that I can sit. And I can breathe . . . usually. Maybe not for long, and I may or may not actually fully empty myself out. And all of that is fine. I agree with my therapist that it's a practice, and that's it's called practice for a reason. It is whatever it can be on any given day - some days it's a constant process of hearing the voices and judgements in my head, and other days it's a chance to slow my brain down and feel something like approaching peace, some days it's a chance to process. Most days, whatever has happened "on the mat" so to speak, I feel good about having done it at all. Most days, when I open my eyes up after sitting and breathing, colors look brighter and my vision seems to be sharper. Life seems a little more in focus from how it was.
This is funny, because I've been sitting for three minutes at a time. No more, no less.
You may remember that when I wrote about ADD I talked about following a plan of 2 minutes a day, then ramping up to 5 minutes a day. But the truth is, it took two tries to get 2 minutes a day consistent for a week at a time. Two minutes seems like so little, but just as I discovered when I was taking pictures of myself every day for a year, and posting them, the list of things we do EVERY DAY without fail, never missing them, for any reason, is really, really finitely small. For me, now that I am not longer doing a 365 days photo project the list is this long:
1. Breathe
2. Drink Water
3. Brush my teeth ( I never don't do this. Because I am very, very into clean teeth)
That's the entire list, plus now, trying to sit and breathe every day. I don't eat every day. Almost every day, of course, but since doing a 365 I am very aware that thinking you do something every day is not the same as doing things every day. So, I know, for instance, that three times in the last 3 years I've been sick enough to skip eating for a day. I may, if I can succeed at sitting and breathing every day, add writing every day, or even do another 365, but for now, four things is enough to try for because I have a tendency to over-commit and even to over-commit plus then beating myself up for not being able to maintain everything.
So, here is the story of me trying to meditate every day, for just a few minutes.
Week 1. Objective: sit for two minutes every day. After a week of doing this, advance to 5 minutes a day.
The first three days were great. I got up each morning, sat for two minutes, and then had these peaceful and very contented breakfasts. I sat on my porch and noticed things. I had visions of photos I wanted to take and things I wanted to write. I felt good. Then, I started feeling . . . dragged around by unexpected feelings. Stress, judgment, expectation. I was so, so tired and found myself sleeping in. I had interviews. I felt . . . too full. So, I missed day 4 and 5. On day 6, I really needed my processing time and did my breathing on the couch, staring at my "processing ceiling." On day 7, I knew I needed another week of two minutes before "advancing."
Week 2. Objective: Sit for 2 minutes a day. Set no other goals regarding the practice of sitting and breathing.
Day 1 - I should read that book that Susan gave me. Actually, she loaned you two books. Maybe you should swim this week. And, Gabrielle loaned you a book too. Does she still have a copy of "All Families are psychotic?" Is this helping you with your family? Maybe, maybe not. If nothing else, then at least it makes you feel better at dealing with you. Shut up, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!
Day 2 - Breathe in. Breath out. Breathe in. Breathe out. That's all.
Day 3 - One in; one out. One, two, in; One, two, out. One, two, three, in; one, two, three, out. So, on and so forth.
Day 4 - I should make coffee this morning. Shut up brain. Breathe. Seriously, you breathe without thinking. why can't you JUST do this?
Day 5 - I wonder if there's any research about how asthmatics benefit from meditation and breathing practice? I need to blow my nose. This allergy season blows.
Day 6 - crap. I almost forgot to do this! And then . . . emptiness. And relief.
Day 7 - I don't want to. But I refuse to mess this up. Try not to fall asleep!
Week 3. Objective: Sit for 3 minutes a day. Set no other goals regarding the practice of sitting and breathing.
Day 1: Let's try sitting in the afternoon = epic fail. My mind was EVERYWHERE at once, and nowhere fully, and importantly, nowhere near settled on sitting peacefully.
Day 2: Sitting in my car before an interview. Set a timer and used this technique from the article (which I used to use in high school and college):
If (following the breath) seems hard at first, you can substitute the method of counting your breath. As you breathe in, count 1 in your mind, and as you breathe out, count 1. Breathe in, count 2. Breathe out, count 2. Continue through 10, then return to 1 again. This counting is like a string which attaches your mindfulness to your breath. This exercise is the beginning point in the process of becoming continuously conscious of your breath. Without mindfulness, however, you will quickly lose count. When the count is lost, simply return to 1 and keep trying until you can keep the count correctly.
The timer went off before I realized it. It went wayyyyyy fast.
Day 3: whoooooooooooops! Totally forgot.
Day 4: see above
Day 5: Breathe in. Breath out. Breathe in. Breathe out. That's all.
Day 6: What if I don't get this job? What should I make for dinner? Did I eat enough protein today? It's hard to breathe through my nose right now. My knee hurts. Beer sounds good. I should substitute a carb at dinner for a beer. Should I start getting serious about part time jobs for the summer? How much time will that take away from my job hunt? Does that just prolong this issue rather than solving it?
Day 7: whooooops! Totally forgot.
Thus, today is 3 minutes, day 1.2 - insert here me laughing at myself.
But gently.
As the article says, "If you're anything like me, meditation will help you realize just how far, and how fast, your mind can wander from what you're supposed to be doing at the moment. In an age of multitasking, hyper-scheduling, and instant internet distraction, that alone can be a huge help."The problem for me, is clearly that my mind wants to run right up against the glass separating me from the the big giant beastly things we look at safely, when they are in cages. And then it wants to run back as quickly as it came. And on the path back, it encounters other things. Things that are conveniently distracting like what to eat, drink, and read.
So, when I picked up "When things Fall Apart" by Pema Chodron, I knew I was onto something when she said,"Fear is a universal experience. Even the smallest insect feels it. We wade into the tidal pools and put our finger near the soft, open bodies of the sea anemones and they close up. Everything spontaneously does that. It's not a terrible thing that we feel fear when faced with the unknown. It is part of being alive, something we all share. We react against the possibility of loneliness, of death, of not having anything to hold onto. Fear is a natural reaction to moving closer to the truth. If we commit ourselves to staying right where we are, then our experience becomes very vivid. Things become very clear when we have nowhere to escape."
It's hard to pass by a mirror and not notice that it's you in there.
I am afraid. And fear is something I don't face very often because there is little I fear. I often proceed to do things that others think are hard without fear. It's not that I don't feel normal anxiety, it's that I don't have a lot of fears. I'm not afraid of elevators, heights, jumping from them, sparring big men, tunnels, moving to new places, or meeting new people. Other people ask me to deal with their rodent and bug issues. I have not a second thought about blood or needles, and I have watched my own surgeries. I'm allergic to pain meds, so when I do have surgeries I deal with pain on my own. The list of things I'm afraid of is almost as short as the list of things I do daily without fail:
1. I am afraid of the dark. It's silly.
2. I am not exactly afraid of but have some strong irrational reactions to anyone pushing on or pinning my neck.
3. I have some weird and not always logical concerns about meat and diseases. This is most often seen in how I shudder and wash my hands eight times after handling chicken. Bllleeeechhhh.
4. I secretly worry that all of this time I've spent thinking about raising kids won't translate into me actually being a good parent.
I've had this list for some time. I've operated under the idea that I walk through the world, mostly unafraid so long as I don't have to deal with chicken in the dark while someone is pointing out all of the flaws in my fictitious-as-of-yet parenting.
But, as it turns out, our friend Pema has me thinking. I recently told someone that we can't every know what someone thinks, how their mind actually computes something, or what we feel. As a psychologist I was trained deeply to understand that all we can see, all we can measure, is behavior. And my behavior suggest I am attracted to other unnamed things that frighten me, but that I am, in fact, scared.
And so my natural instinct is to "forget" to meditate, forget to sit with that discomfort, or to sit, and then instantly turn the spot light on other things (like beer, and books, and peanut butter).
My therapist said "don't you think it's about time that you stopped carrying all of that judgment around with you?"
And my person said, "maybe you need to get comfortable with being able to make decision without knowing all of the variables."
These are all ways of saying, what Pema says which is, "What we're talking about is getting to know fear, becoming familiar with fear, looking it right in the eye - no, not as a way to solve problems, but as a complete undoing of old ways of seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and thinking."
I notice that I am changing. I sleep differently. I approach things differently. And though I can often be hear lamenting, "I have no way to plan what three months from now looks like, " I can also be heard saying that with reverence and wonder. I eat differently. I sometimes rationalize what I have done, accepted, or asked for help on; but I am also doing it without nearly as much pain as I previously experienced.
So, I will keep sitting. And seeing how up-close-and-personal I can get with my fears. you know, the ones I'm still getting acquainted with. when I know what they are, an update on that list will be forthcoming. (Duhn duhn duhhhnnnn) It may take me forever and a day to sit for 5 minutes a day, but I'm quite sure that however and whenever I get there I will know my insides better, and see the outside not just more sharply, as I do now after just 2 or 3 minutes, but with much less fear and judgment and much more vividness.
