Category Archives: transformative healing

inviting mindfulness in a moment of madness: how I learned to live the meditation when sitting was not an option

Looking back on the journey. Appreciating all the lessons lived! #DharmaForReal

t scott-miller's avatardhamma for mama*

I was pissed!

Once again, despite my wholehearted intentions and efforts, another Wednesday evening had arrived and, instead of meditating with my root sangha (Buddhist meditation community), I was at home.

Feeling exhausted, out of sync, and in deep need of restoring myself in a place of uninterrupted quiet where I could relax my busy mind with the steady flow of my breath and invite the precious moment-to-moment, non-judgmental awareness that defines mindfulness.

So I was unduly pissed at myself for not being organized (or awake) enough to get there, my mate for not making it easier for me, and all those unforeseeable or unavoidable forces that arose in the course of a day and became “obstacles” to my practice. Adding to my irritation: knowing that I now lived a few minutes away from the temple yet was faced with detours and delays that made getting there seem like a…

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embodied practice: aum + amen | wisdom of the exhale

Early in my asana practice, I encountered difficulty with taking the oft-instructed “deep inhale.” It felt forced and counterintuitive to my body’s wisdom and capacity to draw air into my lungs. What resonated more with me was to develop an intimate understanding of my breath (rather than changing or controlling it through pranayama, specific yoga breathing exercises) as I’d learned through my Buddhist practice of mindfulness. 

Spending quiet time witnessing my breath, I came to understand how it moved through my body and how my body, heart and mind responded to the movement of each breath. I experienced the multidimensional aspects of breath: the nurturing, energizing, and replenishing qualities of my inhale; the centering, soothing and relaxing qualities of my exhale; and, in the nearly imperceptible pause between the inhale and exhale, where breath organically and effortlessly transforms, I discovered the sensations of steadiness, equanimity, and surrender.

The more I relaxed into the rhythm and flow of breath, the more I came to cherish the cleansing, clearing power of the exhale. It, in fact, created space for my inhale to arise completely without restraint. A deep sense of ease prevailed, bringing with it the wisdom of the exhale–to soften all forms of gripping (muscles to bones, ideas, feelings, thoughts) and to release whatever did not serve me in the moment.

Embodied Practice: Touching the Wisdom of the Exhale by Chanting Aum or Amen

Sit with the breath,
Noticing the exhale arising from the pit of the pelvis.
Invite its embodied wisdom to permeate every cell and fiber—
It is the vehicle through which we release 
the toxins/waste products of oxygen,
So too let all tension/toxins of body, heart and mind be released
Upward and outward with the cleansing,
clearing flow of the exhale.

Hear and feel the exhale take shape
as the seed sound Aum or Amen.
Chant it out loud three times, enjoying the pause in between and the sweet sensation of its release.
Abide calmly in the deep and expansive wave of relief.

Related

Here are a few resources on the Buddhist discourses on the Mindfulness of Breathing (Ānāpānasati Sutta) and the Foundations of Mindfulness (Satipaṭṭhāna Sutta).

 Bhante G

Gil Fronsdal

embodied practice: the healing power of community

The energy of a community of mindfulness can help us embrace and release suffering that we could not reach by ourselves…

father's day practice.13a

If we open our hearts, the collective energy of the community can penetrate the suffering inside us.

~Thich Nhat Hanh, The Art of Communicating

embodied practice: a perspective on “engaged” buddhism

It is hard to define engaged Buddhism.
But I think it has to do with a willingness to see how deeply people suffer; to understand how we have fashioned whole systems of suffering out of gender, race, caste, class, ability, and so on; and to know that interdependently and individually we co-create this suffering…
Some days, I call this engaged Buddhism; on other days I think it is just plain Buddhism — walking the Bodhisattva path, embracing the suffering of beings by taking responsibility for them.

—Hozan Alan Senauke in Upaya’s Newsletter (11 March 2014)

HEAR HERE [for deep listening]: The Biology of the Spirit |Sherwin Nuland + On Being With Krista Tippett


SN: Well, you just got the word. I’ve been sitting here on the edge of my seat, hoping, ‘When am I going to get to say this word, wonder?’

Wonder is something I share with people of deep faith. They wonder at the universe that God has created, and I wonder at the universe that nature has created. But this is a sense of awe that motivates the faithful, motivates me. And when I say motivates, it provides an energy for seeking. Just as the faithful will always say, ‘We are seeking,’ I am seeking.

We’re seeking different things. I’m seeking an understanding of this integrity of everything, of this unity of everything, of the equilibrium of not just the homeostasis, as the physiologists say, the staying the sameness, but of the closeness that we are constantly coming to chaos. I have had chaos. I’ve had chaos to the point where I thought my mind was lost, which gives me a deeper appreciation of equanimity, not just to continued existence but to continued learning, continued productivity, this kind of thing.

KT: …I mean you really do suggest that the human spirit is something of an evolutionary accomplishment.

SN: I think there is an evolutionary accomplishment of the human cortex, the cortex of the brain, and the way it relates to the lower centers of the brain and the way it relates to the entire body, the way it accepts and synthesizes information, uses information from the environment, from the deepest recesses of the body, the way it recognizes dangers to its continued integrity. And I think that this is precisely what the human spirit is doing. The human spirit is maintaining an equilibrium, and it largely is related to its normal physical and chemical functioning…

Consciousness is only a kind of an awareness of our surroundings, an awareness of our emotions, an awareness of our responses. The human spirit is something much greater. The human spirit is an enrichment. It’s the way we use our consciousness to, I keep using this word, to synthesize something better than our mere consciousness, to make ourselves emotionally richer than we in fact are.

HEAR HERE [for deep listening]: The Biology of the Spirit

embodied practice: reclaiming the spirit of wonder

Recall the religion you practiced as a child. Not the religion you were tutored in,
but the religion before religion, when the vast Heaven and wondrous Earth were truly one…
Can you remember what it was like to walk in the midst of a world of miracles?
Can you remember ever traveling within a world of pure delight with a joy untainted by craving or aversion?

~Frank Jude Boccio, Mindfulness Yoga

awakening the voice of self-love

Be careful how you are talking
to yourself because you are listening.
~Lisa M. Hayes

At the beginning of the month, Sangha decided our aspiration for study and practice in February would be (1) to dissolve the inner critic and (2) to awaken the voice of self-love.

We all have experienced the harsh self-defeating tones of an inner voice that chastises, doubts, belittles, and discourages us. We may struggle to hear the gentle voice of compassion that encourages, nurtures, assures, and reminds us of our strengths, gifts and possibilities.

This two-step process of dissolving self-criticism and awakening self-compassion invites us to first shine the light on the deep roots of that oppressive, self-defeating commander.

Can we see the seeds of fear, unworthiness, shame? Can we see all the hands that planted and tended them? These internal and external messages that feed and strengthen that critical voice?

To identify these embedded roots may also unveil a cycle of self-abuse that we easily trap ourselves in. As one practitioner pointed out, we recognize that we’re beating ourselves up and then reprimand ourselves to be better and nicer to ourselves! But how will such self-lecturing ever help us eliminate self-judgement when the critic thrives under abrasiveness?

Thich Nhat Hanh encourages us to “cradle” our suffering (in the form of anger, fear, pain, judgement etc.) as a mother would a child. So when the critic begins its denigrating rant, we neither silence nor strengthen it. We embrace it with a gentle acknowledgment, “Ahh! I see/hear the suffering.” We do not abandon ourselves, convinced that we’re being weak or wimpy. We whisper words of kindness to soothe that wounded voice. I understand. I am here for you. You are hurting. I love you.

Receiving such tenderness, the raging critic begins to soften and relax—to exhale its relief at being seen, heard and understood. Now there is room to sow and water seeds of compassion. We keep exercising the voice of compassion by speaking to ourselves in a hushed and soothing tones. We retrain our inner critic by filtering its skills of observation and analysis through the four gates of speech (a Sufi and Buddhist practice I wrote about in a musing about mindful communication in motherhood) asking, Is it true? Is it necessary? Is it helpful? Is it kind? We learn to assess our choices and decisions honestly, using words that nourish and support rather than berate us. With skillful effort, we develop a booming voice of wise and compassionate discernment.

So practice gently, relentlessly, and lovingly to awaken and constantly feed the voice of self-love. What’s been helpful for me in moments of self-doubt is to remember what another friend in sangha shared. Inspired by a story she’d heard about Apple co-founder Steve Jobs, she echoed his words of encouragement in a tender lilting voice: “Don’t be afraid, you can do it.”

To stop and communicate
with yourself
is a revolutionary act.
~Thich Nhat Hanh

Last week I shared a reading from Sandra Ingerman‘s Medicine for The Earth (a going-away gift I’d received from a friend when I left Brooklyn, NY  in 2003), which provides a template for the transmutation—or ability, as Ingerman defines, to transform poisons in the body and environment—of negative, self-destructive communication to healthy, harmonious self communication:

Words and thought forms create a vibration that goes far into the universe, creating musical notes. We need to look at whether we send out harmonious notes into the universe, which in turn create harmony, or whether we send out disharmonious notes, creating chaos and illness. We call down the powers of the divine and call into being with our words…The seeds planted will decide what kind of plant grows.

We rarely pay attention to the power of the words we use. In our ignorance we end up calling into being a great deal of chaos and pollution. We do the same with our thought forms. If the divine created us in its own image and the divine is perfect, then we are perfect. If we say things about ourselves that is against our perfection, we move out of harmony with the divine inside and outside us, which can cause illness. For example, if you say that you are not good enough or if you believe you are not worthy, your words are out of harmony with divine creation.

You must work on bringing your words and thoughts back into a song of harmony. Without this harmony there can be no union. Without harmony and union there can be no transmutation. The universe sings glorious harmonious notes. Is the song of your life and beliefs harmonious?

EXERCISE [an excerpt]:

Imagine your life as a garden. What seed words do you want to plant, nurture, and watch grow? Choose your seed words carefully.

As you begin to notice the energy and vibration of words, be more conscious of the words you use in your conversations with others. Think about what you are calling down for yourself and others. Think about what plant will grown out of the words you planted.

To heal the earth through transmutation, you must speak to yourself and others with words that create a vibration of love, harmony, and union with the divine. With words you can decree that pollution be reversed. Parts of the formula for transmutation used here: Intention: Words create intention to heal or create illness.

Love: Words that have the power to heal embrace the vibration of love. Love heals.
Harmony: Harmonious notes sent out into the universe will create harmony reflected back to you in your life and the environment.
Union: Where there is harmony, there is union. Union is the energy behind transmutation.
Focus: You must have strong focus to create the intention to use healing words.
Concentration: It takes a great deal of concentration to be aware of the words you use in your self-talk and your conversations with others.
Imagination: You must be able to imagine the energy and vibration that is sent out with the words you use.

Related Musing

On Mindful Consumption

learning together: teaching as a collaboration

I begin every class by asking practitioners what their bodies need that day. I invite them to make requests: 1) for particular poses that they’ve either found helpful or challenging and wish to explore; and 2) for parts of the body that need attention, making special note of any new injuries or sensitivities.

There are times when this invitation is met with blank, self-conscious stares and silence. (Typically when it’s a brand-new group or when I’m subbing for another teacher.)  When this happens, I pose it another way: Where are you holding tension? What needs to be stretched? What needs to be strengthened?

Finally, a quiet murmur from a hesitant voice dares to reveal in a room (most often) full of strangers a perceived weakness: a knee or shoulder, lower back, neck or hamstrings that chronically and persistently ails. Now come the echoes of agreement! Oh, the relief at knowing we’re not the only one suffering.

I’ve been teaching for 7 years, and it puzzles me that, in a yoga class of all places, people (read: adults of all ages, beginning and experienced students alike) appear reluctant to respond to this invitation to fully participate in creating their experience on the mat.

________________________

Is it the awkwardness of public speaking?
Is it just wanting to turn off the efforts of the thinking mind after a long day to simply enjoy being led?
Are students deferring to the skill of the teacher because they have no preference?
Or, do they really not know/understand how to listen to what is happening in their body?
Do they not feel empowered to ask?
____________________________

Naturally, beginning students feel like they don’t know enough to ask. But then I think: Well, what would you say to a massage therapist or medical professional who asked you to describe the sensations in your body and where you’re feeling them?

What about experienced practitioners who are reticent? Are they keeping quiet because they think the teacher should have a plan or because they don’t wish to appear as if they are challenging the teacher? Have they never been asked to consider these questions before?

In far too many instances, I suspect that it is the latter reason. Some teachers are either not approachable or are not creating an atmosphere where questions and curiosities are openly welcomed. It may not be intentional; however, the lack of awareness and connection between such teachers and their students becomes apparent when those students reveal, through the questions and observations they pose to me, disparities in teaching (philosophy, skill, etc.) and communication styles.

In a recent conversation, a practitioner expressed concern about her physical discomfort when doing a particular sequence of movements in class taught by another teacher. After guiding her once more through modifications I had just taught the group, I asked whether she’d ever talked with the other teacher about this. She paused thoughtfully and realized that she hadn’t–in part, because she was deferring to that instructor’s style and because of the well-noted rigor of the class itself.

My question gave her new perspective. Instead of outright dropping the class, she agreed to first speak with the instructor. I encouraged her to then base her decision on how that instructor received her questions and, when tested, whether that answer ultimately served to eliminate her discomfort and enhance her practice. I added that such feedback helps us learn how to teach our students!

Situations like that are common. So it has long been my practice to encourage students to respectfully approach any and every teacher to inform them of their injuries or sensitivities, to ask questions, and to make requests. It is how we teachers learn to listen, observe, instruct clearly, and respond skillfully to students–whether by modifying poses or by offering an all-together different pose option to accommodate the diversity in body type, range of motion, skill level (to name a few) in our rooms. It is how we teachers continue to develop our skills.

So it is important for me to invite practitioners to co-create the practice with me. When that connection and openness has been established, requests will pour in before I can even ask…sometimes the moment they walk in the door! I do this with the intention to empower students to make the practice their own: to help them discover how to listen and respond skillfully to their bodies on and off the mat.

We feel different in body, heart, and mind everyday. So–even if we move through the same poses time and again–our yoga practice is different! Honoring what we are experiencing in the present moment not only keeps us safe in our practice, but also deepens our intimate understanding of ourselves, strengthens our intuitive powers, and nourishes in our hearts the sense of compassion, resilience and trust we have for ourselves.

At the end, I thank everyone for helping to create the practice. Yes, I am an experienced teacher who offers them tools to stretch, stabilize and strengthen the body as well as to relax, understand, sort, settle and honor the heart and mind. But it is very rare that I come in with a pre-planned sequence. (Why? Inevitably, a new student will show up without any previous experience or a regular student will have a new ache or injury. Whoosh! Out goes the plan.) Instead I arrive with the intention to teach spontaneously from a mix of intuition, knowledge, and observation. What I teach then is inspired by the present-moment needs of the practitioners because they are the experts of their own bodies and, as such, the co-creators of their yoga experience.

{originally published 22 aug 2013 now-defunct dharma yoga arts blog}