Month: December 2018

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Dream a little dream

Whenever we find ourselves experiencing transition in our life, it feels like a natural time to reflect. We reflect back upon the path that brought us here, we reflect inward and notice how we may have grown, changed, been affected by our path, and we look ahead with anticipation to what might lie on the horizon before us. The present moment may be the only moment we are truly guaranteed, but reflecting on our past brings our awareness to its teachings and enables us to apply those lessons as we embark upon the journey ahead.

Mindfulness practice teaches us to notice our attachments and judgments so we can then release them and observe what arises in an open and receptive way. Reflect upon the last 12 months with this sense of open curiosity; let it be an exploration that allows you to identify highs and lows, joys and sorrows, lessons learned that perhaps changed the way you do things, see things, respond to things. What challenged you this year? What caused you to feel pain or sorrow or anger or loss? Acknowledge the trials and the missteps and the frustrations with compassion. If they imparted some wisdom, opened a window to a new perspective or opportunity, you may wish to give thanks for their lessons. Now, what brought you joy this year? What made your heart sing? What lifted your spirits and made you come alive? Look back with a smile in your heart and be grateful for all of these shining lights that lit the way forward.

When you consider the highs of the past year, do you notice any themes or patterns? Are there certain actions, places, people that have woven a common thread of joy through your experience? There are no guarantees for our path ahead – there is only this moment and the way we respond to it. However, living with mindful presence does not preclude our dreaming and imagining and cultivating joy and light on the path ahead. The more joy we find in everyday occurrences, in simple acts, in our sensory experience of the world around us, the more inclined we are to joy. These actions and places and people that brought us joy this year are the starting point, the realisation that joy is possible even in the midst of our challenge and darkness and sorrow. When we look back and see our joys, they become familiar friends that we will recognise more easily the next time around – we will welcome them in each time they arrive and be grateful for whatever they have to teach us.

Soon we will celebrate the end of one year and usher in the next. Let this be an opportunity to reflect back on the year that was, to gaze inward and acknowledge what may have changed, and to cast your eyes and imagination forward to the year that lies ahead. While there may be sadness or pain in our future, there will always be opportunities to find joy – we need only open our hearts, our minds, our dreams and welcome it in.

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Hygge for the holidays

In the cold, dark days of winter, the people of Denmark invite light and warmth by cultivating Hygge.  Hygge (pronounced hue-guh) is a special feeling of cosiness, contentment, comfort, or happiness that occurs when a person is not only present, but they have slowed down to recognise and enjoy the present moment. Perhaps Hygge is at the root of why Denmark is routinely listed as one of the happiest countries in the world.

December 21st marks the Winter Solstice in the Northern Hemisphere, the day with the shortest period of daylight and the longest night of the year. This seems to me the perfect time to invite a feeling of Hygge, embracing the darkness while imbuing it with things that make us feel cozy and contented. Just as our mindfulness practice can be as simple as observing the movement of our breath, Hygge need not be complicated – in fact, simplicity is at the heart of this feeling of comfort and ease.  At a time of year when we are often so busy, creating simple rituals to welcome contentment into our days seems the ideal antidote.

What makes you feel cozy? When you close your eyes and imagine a feeling of happiness in your heart, what do you see around you? For some of us, this feeling might arise when we are surrounded by family and friends, while others might envision a quiet evening alone at home. Perhaps lighting a candle, wrapping yourself in a warm blanket while savouring a perfectly brewed cup of tea is your idea of contentment. Maybe it is a delicious home-cooked meal with friends, laughing and enjoying each other’s company, sharing stories in the kitchen while you prepare your favourite foods.  There is no right or wrong way to bring about a feeling of Hygge – you need only invite your attention into the present, slowing down so you can recognise all of the simple joys that moment brings.

As the longest night of the year approaches, welcome some warmth and light into your heart. Take the time to pause and look up from your holiday busyness to appreciate the simple joys around you. Breathe it all in and let it infuse your spirit with contentment and peace – like a cozy, warm hug on a cold winter day.

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The art of stillness

Today has been a quiet one, as I am working my way through a bout of bronchitis and am feeling particularly tired and achy. Whenever illness strikes and I take a quiet day like this, I inevitably feel guilty or anxious at some point. I feel as though I should be ‘doing something’, being productive, contributing to the world around me. When these thoughts and feelings arise, I try to remind myself that by taking this time to rest, to heal, to nourish my body so that I may become healthy again, I am practicing Metta, lovingkindness, and this is in itself a contribution to the world. If we do not care for ourselves, we will not have the strength to engage with the world in a mindful and compassionate way. When we take the time to stop, to listen to the needs of our own mind and body, and to respond with lovingkindness and compassion, we strengthen our inner resources and we build the capacity to respond in a similarly kind and loving way to the needs of those around us.

Illness and injury can force us to stop and take stock, but we need not wait to become sick or hurt to reflect within. Our mindfulness practices give us that opportunity every day, and it is particularly powerful when we allow ourselves to find stillness. Stillness has the power to heal, to nourish, to calm, to enlighten. It invites us to look with new eyes upon ourselves and the world, to open ourselves to new ideas and possibilities. Pico Iyer said it beautifully: “In an age of speed, I began to think nothing could be more invigorating than going slow. In an age of distraction, nothing can feel more luxurious than paying attention. And in an age of constant movement, nothing is more urgent than sitting still.”  

For more of Pico Iyer’s insight on the art of stillness, I invite you to enjoy his TED Talk.

Pico Iyer TED Talk, The art of stillness
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A balance of light & dark

When we assign labels or judgments to our feelings and experiences, we run the risk of diminishing what they have to teach us. Our natural inclination is to crave what feels ‘good’ and is deemed ‘positive’ by those around us, and we avoid what feels ‘bad’ and might be viewed as ‘negative’.  However, by only courting what is good and striving to ignore what is bad, could we not be depriving ourselves of fully half our life experiences? If we shun the dark, can we ever truly appreciate the light?

Buddhist teacher Pema Chödrön reminds us that “Nothing ever goes away until it has taught us what we need to know.” We can try to hide from our fear, bury our anxiety, ignore our distress, but until we have acknowledged their lessons and allowed them to penetrate deep within, we will never be free of them. We will encounter them again and again on our path, sometimes in different shapes, with different faces, yet still they stem from the same roots. To shine a light on them, we must use our mindful awareness to look within, to reach into the darkness of our despair or uncertainty, our anger or fear, and allow ourselves to experience them fully. We open ourselves to the darkness or discomfort without judgment, without attachment, with a deep sense of self-compassion, and we listen to what these experiences are trying to teach us.

There is a reason we begin our meditation studies with awareness of the breath: it is the gateway between our external experience of the world around us and the inner landscape where our true and wisest self lies.  The breath lets us connect to our physical self in a simple, non-threatening way; it connects us to the familiar external world and the way it tastes, smells and feels, moment by moment.  We then begin to follow the breath as it moves within the body and we attune to the physical sensations we encounter there – the lungs, ribs and belly expanding and softening, the way the air feels as it moves through the nostrils and the throat.  Sitting in silent contemplation of the breath, the subtle beauty of the body rising and falling, enables us to connect to the present moment in a tangible way, and it provides an anchor that grounds us in the present and brings us back again and again as our attention drifts.  From this grounded place, we can then choose to open our awareness to the less tangible, to the ever-changing stream of thoughts and emotions that arise in each moment.  It is here that we are often most inclined to judge and label: welcoming happiness and pushing away sorrow, embracing the light as we run from the dark.

Psychoanalyst Carl Jung sagely observed that, “Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word happy would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness. It is far better to take things as they come along with patience and equanimity.” What if instead of labeling happiness as good and sadness as bad, we simply accept them for what they are: feelings and experiences, in a lifelong journey of feelings and experiences? Perhaps if we can notice when we label and judge, we can begin to acknowledge that it serves no useful purpose. Perhaps if we let go of labels and judgments when they arise, we can instead choose to sit with experiences exactly as they are, opening up to their lessons as a guiding light from within.