Speaking of Meditation…A Note of Self-Awareness

To meditate means to go home to yourself. Then you know how to take care of things that are happening inside of you, and you know how to take care of the things that happen around you.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

Recently eight-year-old Miss O has chosen to do some meditation in the bedroom while I’m reading to four-year-old Mr. D. Since the bedtime routine could use any injection of calm possible, I’m all for it.

The first night she tried it, she’d sat for about 90 seconds. Then she popped up and said as she walked by me, “Do things you’ve forgotten to do pop into your mind when you meditate?

Hello, have you met the inside of my brain?” I wanted to quip.

On the second night she tried, she sat for about five minutes before joining Mr. D and me in our little reading nook. When Mr. D started a little shoving, she calmly said something like, “Oh, I’m so glad I meditated because otherwise I’d be all [switch to impatient and angry voice] ‘Mr. D, cut it out. You are being so awful.’ “

I had to look away to hide my grin. Congratulations to Miss O for managing in one sentence to be smug about her practice, self-aware of what she shouldn’t say, and say it anyway. Goodness knows I’ve been guilty of all three so my chuckle was both knowing and self-deprecating.

[Note to self: spiritual practices usually work better when they come with keeping the heart open and the mouth shut.]

(featured photo from Pexels)

Cookie Cutter Faith

There are two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as if everything is a miracle.” – Albert Einstein

This was originally published on 7/6/2022. Heads up that you may have already read this.


My kids and I went to a wedding out-of-town this past weekend. At the wedding, they gave out fortune cookies. My 6-year-old daughter opened hers and read “You will find a treasure soon.

The next morning we were driving around looking for an alternative to the planned hike because it was raining. I turned in at a sign that said, “Horseback riding.” It was a holiday weekend and we didn’t have reservations so I didn’t think we’d be able to ride but maybe we could see some horses, my daughter’s favorite animal even though she’d never actually touched one. Yet.

But they booked us for a ride. As my daughter sat atop a big quarter horse named Comanche, I could hear her tell the guide. “I got a fortune cookie and it said that I would find a treasure. It was right – THIS IS MY TREASURE.”

I chuckled but as the weekend went on she repeated the story a few more times adding at the end, “I need another fortune cookie.” I grew a little uneasy. Surely I needed to inject a little reality to this fortune cookie madness.

Wait a minute – one of my favorite quotes is from Albert Einstein’s “There are two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as if everything is a miracle.” And I’m clearly on Team Miracle. So why was I feeling the need to put the kibosh on her finding some magic in fortune cookies?

Because I’m a parent and I want her to believe in something more substantial that involves some responsibility and transcendence. Because I don’t want her to be disappointed.

It made me think of all the years that I didn’t discuss my faith with my beloved dad because I feared my spiritual beliefs weren’t religious enough. When I finally found the chutzpah to do it, we had deep and meaningful conversations about life, family and love. And it turned out that life and his 40 years as a pastor had instilled in him a bigger idea than the Presbyterian party line. In the end, he called himself a big tent guy. “In a way I have become less cocky or confident because I thought I had things all figured out early on, but now I know I have general things figured out, but the fact is that we differ in this huge tent of the family of faith on different things.

And then he went on to paint a picture of how my yoga/meditation/spiritual practice related to his beliefs in a unifying way:

“I’ve thought this often about you and your world with all the disciplines that are so wonderfully therapeutic. It seems to me that Christ is equally as present and could be equally named and known to you. The disciplines in a sense are more along the horizontal level than perhaps the vertical level (reaching up to God) and Christ honors anything that makes us more what God wants us to be.

I am thrilled with what is happening in you in this journey and one of the great benefits is that it brings us closer.  When kids follow in a trail similar to their parents, it creates one more way they can be close and can relate with each other … and in this case relate deeply and lastingly.”

Dick Leon

Thinking back to what I learned from talking with my dad, I think of all the time I didn’t talk about faith because of fear that it wouldn’t measure up. In the end, I realized that no two people see faith in exactly the same way, no matter how unified their theology is. Instead, there’s room in the tent for all of us.

I have faith that my daughter will grow up to experience God in her own nuanced way and I don’t need to fear it will be Fortune Cookie religion. So why not find some magic in it? After all, my fortune was “Your hard work will pay off soon.

What about you? Do you talk about faith in your family? Do fortune cookies count as miracles?


As a related post to this one, I’ve published a post on the Wise & Shine Blog: Do You Believe In Magic? Do You Write About It?

(featured photo from Pexels)

Does Loving-Kindness Actually Matter?

All joy in this world comes from wanting others to be happy, and all suffering in this world comes from wanting only yourself to be happy.” – Shanti Deva

Two mornings after a puzzling encounter with a Hispanic man on the bus, his face came to mind during my morning sacred time as I was doing the loving-kindness meditation. Actually I couldn’t picture his face with much detail but the feeling of his leathery hands was still palpable. They were as wide as they were long, giving me the impression, along with the texture, of catchers’ mitts.

May I be happy, may you be happy

May I be at peace, may you be at peace

May I be loved, may you be loved

I wondered as I did it – does doing this meditation do anything for him? Here’s a man who randomly gave us $100 for no reason I could discern, the language barrier prevented any meaningful dialogue. But in so doing, changed the course of our day plus the day of the five people who received parts of his gift. (See my post on Heart of the Matter for the story of what we did with the money).

Then two days later I’m doing the loving-kindness meditation and sending him good vibes. Does it matter to him?

Here’s the image that came to me. If we all are a great big audience, some of us will be facing the stage, others are facing away, and the rest are looking at their phones. For anyone that comes on the stage, they can feel the love of those looking toward them, the antipathy of those facing away, and the indifference of those who are distracted. How the person on the stage reads the crowd is probably mostly based on their experience and viewpoint, but is also influenced by the energy of the audience.

If you asked me whether I wanted to be a part of this man’s audience the other day, my head would have voted for remaining indifferent. But my heart has been softened by enough loving-kindness meditation specifically, and by life in general, so that it opts for leaning in.

So perhaps the time spent in prayer and meditation does matter to the man on the bus. Maybe not directly, but it opens me for receiving others known and unknown.

See my post on the Heart of the Matter for the story of what we did with the $100: One Thing Led To Another

Silence

This is something I published on 1/5/22. Heads up – you may have already read this.


Yesterday, the first full day that both of my kids were back at school, I just sat in my empty house in silence. No tv or music, my cell phone turned to vibrate, computer off. Just the hum of the refrigerator and the sound of the rain on the window. It felt like a whole day’s worth of restoration and calm although I only sat like that for about 15 minutes.

I was under the influence of a great On Being podcast I listened to: Silence and the Presence of Everything. In it, Krista Tippet was interviewing acoustic ecologist and silence activist Gordon Hempton. He had so many powerful things to say about the experience of silence. To recap a few:

  • Our ears are always working. The reason alarm clocks are effective is because while our brain sleeps, our ears never do.
  • There are some animal species that are blind – creatures that live deep in caves or in the depths of the ocean. But all higher vertebrates have a sense of hearing. It’s too dangerous to live without. We have eyelids but nothing has ear lids.
  • Research shows that in noisy areas people are less likely to help each other.

He expanded on the last point. When we speak in a quiet place, the listener can hear both our words and our tone. Noisy places are isolating, we aren’t ever sure we are getting all the information that we need from our environment to make our nervous systems know we are safe. Listening enables our sense of security and bolsters a feeling of intimacy. Quiet places like churches and concert halls are where we feel secure, where we can open and be receptive.

A story that I recently read about Evelyn Glennie, a gifted percussionist who is profoundly deaf makes me realize that silence and sound can be equally present for those whose ears do and do not work. Because she works with the vibrations that come with noise, she feels sound in a way that we all do whether or not we’ve developed the awareness.

When my first child was about 6 months old a friend asked me whether having kids was noisy. My answer at the time was “no.” My experience was that there was so much beauty in all the silent moments listening for the sound of my baby waking. Still now, my favorite moments are the quiet ones – hiking in the woods together, the moments we quietly play with Legos when the little one is napping and the times I try to move noiselessly around the house so that I can meditate and write without waking anyone. There is such intimacy when we are listening for each other.

Last summer I was sitting on the porch of a creaky old cabin a block off the beach of Mutiny Bay on Whidbey Island. I’d snuck out of a bed that I was sharing with my daughter for our 2 nights there and through all the rattling doors with a hot cup of tea and sat to meditate. As I sat there, I heard a whale exhale through its blow hole and looked up. I barely caught a glimpse of three whales in the sliver of bay 150 yards away that I could see between the two buildings in front of me. But I heard the distinctly unique sound several more times through the quiet morning air before the whales moved on. It was exhilarating and intimate.

After recently reading Jane Fritz’s post celebrating World Introvert Day, I may be more of an introvert than I previously realized given how much recharge I get from being alone. But quiet is good for us all. Or as Gordon Hempton says, “Quiet is quieting.”

Do you have favorite silent places? Sounds that you can only hear when life is quiet?


I’ve also published a post today on Wise & Shine: Unlikely Learning Mates.

What to Do With Our Inner Meanness

The worst loneliness is to not be comfortable with yourself.” – Mark Twain

This is something I published on 9/7/22. Heads up – you may have already read this.


The other night my seven-year-old was being short-tempered with her younger brother and snippy with me. I asked her not to take out her mood on others and she replied “I don’t know what to do with the meanness!

Huh. Isn’t that a great question? I was raised in a household that believed “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.” Which I think has it about half right – not saying mean things is an admirable goal. But since just stuffing it down is likely not to work long-term, what do you do with the meanness?

Tend the Body

On the night in question, my daughter was both tired and stressed. In fact, I think I can pretty accurately say that if one of my kids is grumpy, there’s about a 90% chance it’s because they are tired, hungry, cold or sick.

And that goes for me too. If I’ve depleted my energy reserves with a hard work out or am tired because I haven’t slept well, I’m much more likely to think, if not say, unkind things.

As my colleague on this blog, Jack Canfora said in his brilliant post on Things I Think I’ve Learned So Far, “There will be things you do and say in an offhand way that will stay with others their entire lives, for better or worse.” So how do we tip the scales so that those things are more often for the better?

Mind the Mind

Dr. Dan Siegel, neuropsychiatrist and author, talks about the structure of our brains. In his terms, fear and anger reside in our downstairs brain, the brain stem and limbic region, whereas thinking, planning and imagining reside in the upstairs brain, the cerebral cortex and its various parts. The more we exercise integration of these two parts by making sound choices, delving into self-understanding, practicing empathy, posing hypothetical moral questions, the better we can apply higher-level control over our instinctive reactions. From The Whole-Brained Child, those are the recommendations of what we can do to help kids integrate the upstairs and downstairs brains but they work equally as well to mold adult brains too.

As Daniel Kahneman notes in his book Thinking Fast and Slow, “People who are cognitively busy are also more likely to make selfish choices, use sexist language, and make superficial judgments in social situations.” Cognitively busy being shorthand for when we tax our brains with concentration, complex computations and choices.  So we need to find a way to give our busy minds a break.

Feed the Soul

For me, giving my mind a break comes from meditation. I call sitting down on my meditation cushion “Irrigating the Irritation” because it so often helps soften where I’m stuck. It delivers me from the petty complaints by introducing a bigger sense of perspective.

This matches the experience reported by brain scientist Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor when she had a stroke that quieted the mental chatter of her mind and opened her up to a sense of deep inner peace and loving compassion. Studies of Tibetan meditators and Franciscan nuns have shown a similar shift of neurological activity for those engaged in prayer and meditation.

From a recent study published by the Oregon State University, they found that meditation can help replenish mental energy in a way similar to sleep. In fact, according to the lead author of the study, Charles Murniek, “As little as 70 minutes a week, or 10 minutes a day, of mindfulness practice may have the same benefits as an extra 44 minutes of sleep a night.

Of course meditation is hard practice for kids. There are techniques like box breathing and just counting to ten that help in the throes of big emotions but I haven’t gotten my kids to sit for more than five minutes at a time on a meditation cushion. However, I’ve also noticed that just sitting and coloring also brings about some mental rest, both for kids and for me when I do it alongside them.

What to Do with the Meanness

I tell my kids that my job is to keep them healthy, safe and kind. I know the kind part is a stretch because kindness is a choice they’ll have to make. Also because I have my hands full just trying to practice kindness myself. But at the very least, I can help find ways they can manage their meanness and in doing so, help myself to do the same.


I’ve also posted today on the Wise & Shine blog about first sentences that draw us in: Great First Lines. Check it out!

(featured photo from Pexels)

Unstructured Flow

“To meditate means to go home to yourself. Then you know how to take care of things that are happening inside of you, and you know how to take care of the things that happen around you.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

My kids and I on vacation this week at a beautiful spot on Whidbey Island – one of my favorite places in all the world and only a couple of hours away from home. We’ve rented a place right on the beach and it is stunning. I’m typing this on a crisp summer morning sitting at the picnic table on our patio. It’s an extremely low tide so one of the local herons is fishing in a tide pool 100 yards front of me. The morning is so calm that I can see the shadow of the heron reflected on the water. The boat just beyond it is glinting in the first light.

My 84-year-old mom joined us here for a few nights, my friend Eric is coming for another few nights, and then my kids and I have had a couple nights and days on our own. Given the proximity to Seattle, we’ve had a parade of other visitors – my meditation teacher, Deirdre, came for a few hours, a gang of Eric’s long-distance cycling friends paraded through, and a different friend is coming today.

Now the heron in front of me is chasing a seagull away from its tide pool that it must consider to be its own. I could be anthropomorphizing here but it seems to have lost its focus on its own peaceful pursuit of what it was doing and now has concerned itself with what the seagull is doing instead.

Which is a lovely allegory for how vacation feels to me. Without the regular routines and structure to key off of, it seems like vacation is a constant negotiation of what we all need and want to do. The wide openness of it makes me feel I have to maintain some definition of my own in order not to be swept away in the tide of what everyone else wants, and my own desire to please.

Like the heron, I spent the first part of the week maintaining definition of what’s mine – my sacred time, my bed, my plate, my activities – and that left me feeling like I was playing defense. Then I read this paragraph from Mark Nepo during MY sacred time and it helped me to realize that the key is permeability:

“Another paradox I continually struggle with is how to let others in without becoming them. How to open the door to compassion without the things and people we feel for overpowering us.”

The Book of Awakening by Mark Nepo

For me it has come down to relaxing my boundaries so that I can feel the flow. It’s not guarding my space like the heron, but instead finding the play and playfulness in being with others. Coming closer when we are exploring on the beach, and snuggled up after time in the pool, and then moving away when I need a moment just to expand my senses and take it all in.

Which brings me to the quote from the Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh that I used for this post. When I meditate, I almost always find some answer or ease that helps me to navigate life. When everything else is unstructured, as it is here on vacation, or hectic, as it is in regular life, this is the practice that helps me with both. Usually by finding that I can release whatever I’ve dammed up and find that flow and faith in the Universe again and again.


Vicki Atkinson and I talk about meditation and how self-care can make us better humans on this week’s episode of the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast. Search (and subscribe!) for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Apple, Amazon, Spotify or Pocket Casts OR Listen to on Anchor Episode 28: How Self Care Can Make Us Better Humans with Vicki Atkinson

(featured photo is mine – the beautiful beach in front of me)

Healthspan

Aging is an extraordinary process where you become the person you should have always been.” – David Bowie

Listening to a recent Ten Percent Happier podcast, The Science of Longevity, with Dan Harris and his guest, Dr. Peter Attia introduced me to a new word: healthspan. Dr. Attia specializes in longevity and he was talking about his recently published book Outlive: The Science and the Art of Longevity

“There is this other component that if really I think push people will acknowledge is more important to them and that is healthspan. Which is harder to understand and define because it’s not binary but it’s an indication of quality of life. The medical definition of healthspan is the period of time from which you are free of disability and disease. I think some definition of healthspan needs to touch on physical robustness, cognitive robustness, and emotional resilience and health.”

Dr. Peter Attia, Ten Percent Happier Podcast

As I celebrate another birthday, this seems like a topic worth digging into. After all, when I grow up, I want to be just like our blogger friend, Julia Preston, who published a fantastic book at age 83, Voices: Who’s In Charge of the Committee in My Head?, and who regularly sprinkles this blogging community with delight, joy, and encouragement.

So how do we do it? Dr. Attia had five main areas: exercise, nutrition, sleep, pharmaceutical tools, and emotional health.

Exercise is the tool that turns out that it impacts lifespan (and healthspan) the most. The more exercise the better – he describes it as “the most potent longevity drug in our arsenal.” I found his breakdown on what we need to be very interesting – of the time we spend exercising, he gave the rough rule of thumb as half aerobic and half strength training. And of the aerobic half, 80% low intensity, 20% high intensity. For the strength half – 80% strength and 20% stability.

His comment on what we should do was more nebulous. It turns out that measuring our VO2 max is the best predictor of longevity, which matches what I remember when writing The Unified Theory of Breathing drawing from James Nestor’s book Breath. So the exercise we choose should ultimately improve our VO2 max because it is the best “predictor of length of life.”

Strength they measure by grip strength. Dr. Attia threw out this comparison: “If you compared the top 10% of grip strength to the bottom 10% – there is a 70% reduction in both incidence and mortality from dementia.” He followed that up with that it isn’t that they believe a strong grip protects the brain, but it works as an indicator.

The other bucket that really interested me was emotional health. Dr. Attia made the point that this one is different because it’s not age dependent but it affects the quality of life throughout. If we don’t have emotional health, we can make life more difficult for ourselves and those around us. Which makes me think of one of my favorite Oscar Wilde quotes, “Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.

For me, my emotional health toolkit contains faith, meditation, writing, and love. When I start the day with meditation, faith, and writing, I have a better chance of facing the challenges of the day with openness and less worry. These tools help me put down the stuff I don’t need to carry and keep so that I can face the day, and my loved ones, with open arms.

Growing up with two parents who made emotional health look easy, I didn’t develop my toolkit until life tossed me around a bit. I thought enthusiasm and optimism could cover everything over. Maybe we all have maladaptive ways of doing things we have to relearn but don’t have the opportunity until life gives us something to practice. It makes me think of all the tools I carried when climbing to help in the case of falling into a crevasse or needing to rescue someone else. Thank goodness I never had to use them – because all I knew was the theory of what I should do, not the adrenaline packed reality of facing the tough situations.

But now that I’ve had plenty of opportunities to find out just how important emotional health is in the quality of life, I’ve found that doing my work, just like exercise, truly makes such a difference. There might not be the statistics to compare what happens when we do or do not do our work as it relates to emotional health, but I know for me, it is the key to enjoying each day that I’m lucky enough to walk on this green earth. And for each of these days I have in my life span, I’m so grateful. So thank you all for being part of my tool kit!

Speaking of someone who has done her work, I was lucky enough to have a wonderful podcast conversation with Vicki Atkinson about her book, Surviving Sue. As we talked through the themes in the book, she told me about doing the work to turn her well-deserved anger at her mother into compassion and positive regard. Episode 22: Themes in Surviving Sue with Vicki Atkinson

It’s a great episode, please give it a listen and subscribe! Search for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Apple Podcasts, Amazon Music, Spotify, or PocketCasts or click on the link above.

The Top 5 Report

The guides who accompany the great expeditions in Kilimanjaro, one of the highest mountains in the world, use a Swahili expression to comfort fatigued walkers: ‘Polé, polé’, which means ‘slowly, slowly, one step at a time’.” – Cristiana Branchini

When I first started my own computer consulting business, I had a project that required a software developer. Since I don’t write code, I hired a smart friend of mine to do that piece of the project. He was delightfully full of ideas and capable, but getting things done on time wasn’t his strong point, and he was also a little lax on attention to detail.

One of the reports we had to deliver to the client was a Top 5 report. It was supposed to pull the top 5 results based in descending order from a database. Some requirements can be hard to define but this wasn’t one of them – the name of the report said it all.

When the day came for me to show the client our work, my developer friend was still working on it. I left to drive to the meeting and he assured me that it would be fine by the time I got there.

I pulled up the screen to show the client and the top 5 report returned 13 results. <groan> And then the client and I burst into laughter.

I thought of this particular project fail the other day when I was trying to prioritize what needed to get done. My top 5 list was returning 13 results:

  1. Meditate
  2. Be present to play with and listen to the kids
  3. Get my billable work done
  4. Write and podcast to ensure I’m focusing on the right things in life
  5. Exercise
  6. Sleep
  7. Cook healthy meals
  8. Take care of the cat
  9. Make meaningful connections with friends and family
  10. Plan the kids’ activities so they make meaningful connections with friends and family
  11. Laundry
  12. Hygiene/Cleaning/De-cluttering
  13. House maintenance, gardening, and mowing the lawn

Okay, so not all of those things need to be done every day. But most days require at least 1-8. I know you are worried that hygiene is item 12 but I promise I’m getting that done, more or less.

When I told the developer that 13 results were showing up, he said, “Maybe some have exactly the same value so it’s showing additional entries.” No, that wasn’t it. But maybe it’s a clue to the thing I need to work out now in life. Not everything has the same value so in the juggling of priorities, I can stay focused on what truly has the highest importance. The interesting thing about putting meditation at the top of the list is that it helps me stay centered for whatever else needs to be done.

And I just need to laugh. Whoever promised that life would fit in a box? Or a report?

It’s fitting that I’m posting this on the day that the Sharing the Heart of the Matter podcast Episode 20: The Art of the Interview with Dr. Gerald Stein goes live. In the discussion, that Vicki and I have with the illustrious Dr. Stein, he tells an incredibly poignant story about a man who’s brush with death at an early age made him realize that life is a lagniappe.

I wasn’t familiar with that word – it’s French/Creole for something extra. If you buy 12 rolls, the baker throws in another. A lagniappe. Kind of a cute tie in to my Top 13 items. Perhaps I should just consider it all “something extra” that at least I get to try to live this delightful life with its many priorities.

It’s a great episode, please give it a listen and subscribe! Search for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Apple Podcasts, Amazon Music, Spotify, or PocketCasts or click on the link above.

The quote at the top of the post from blogger Cristiana Branchini is from her post Cultivating Trust in Life

(featured photo from Pexels)

The Art of Packing

Strip away the non-essential, and the essential will reveal itself.” – Tao Te Ching

Mr. D has been really excited about vacation, or as he says it “bacation.” For several days now he’s been piling rocks into the car for us to take TO the beach. He tells me, “This is a rock for vacation water.” Also, in his suitcase – two pairs of pjs, a robe, three books, and a toy boat.

What’s not in his suitcase? Undies, socks, or shoes. But hey, he’s only three-years-old.

Miss O at seven-years-old is a little more practical. She’s got her toiletries, two pairs of pajamas, some skorts and tank tops, her iPad, and a lot of room for stuffies.

Also, no undies, socks, or shoes.

Packing fascinates me. Mostly because it can be so illuminating to see what’s top of the list. Like on mine is a scrub brush for dishes because we’ve rented this AirBnB before and they have no tools for scrubbing dishes. Also, undies and socks because last time I was so focused on packing those for everyone else that I forgot my own.

Isn’t that terribly utilitarian? What about remembering to not bring my busy-ness? And speaking of things to leave at home: my penchant for schedules, the belief that I have to get everything done on my to-do list, and my expectation that I’ll time while on vacation to catch up on some emails I missed. Instead, I can have room to bring an expanded sense of wonder.

My inspiration for this is from one of my favorite meditations from my meditation teacher, Deirdre. With our eyes closed, she leads us through feeling the pack on our backs as we hike down a trail. We feel the breeze tickle across our skin, the sun peak through the trees to create occasional warm patches as we glide along the path. But then, when we are a couple of minutes in, we realize that the pack on our backs feels heavier than the water and snack we put in there for the trip.

Deirdre offers us the opportunity to sit down and unpack what we don’t need. For me that is when I get a good look at the things I carry along without thinking about it: the worries, the hidden expectations, the weight of past failures, the anxiety about where I’m going in the big picture. Then, as I repack my backpack, I can decide which one of those things, if any, are worth bringing along.

To me it’s an exercise of intention. It’s okay if I want to bring along whatever agenda I have for a vacation as long as I’m doing it purposefully. As soon as I say that, I know that I don’t want to. As much as I gently tease my kids for what they don’t bring along, it also reminds me that they might have the right spirit.

When I was coordinating with my friend, Eric, when we should meet up to leave for “bacation,” he offered we better meet earlier. Because after hearing what Mr. D was packing to bring to the beach, he quipped it might take him some time to get his driftwood in the car…

Open the Doors, Let It Flow

Deep breathing is our nervous system’s love language.” – Dr. Lauren Fogel Mersy

There aren’t that many hot days in Seattle – maybe 10 or 12 a year so like most Seattleites, I don’t have air conditioning. When the days are hot, I close the blinds and try to open the outside doors early in the morning to let the cool morning air in.

But inevitably, there will be a room with a closed door like the laundry room that I’ll walk into after a few hot days in a row, and just get blasted by hot, fetid air.

When I first started meditating, it felt like I was doing the work to open up and cool off all those rooms inside myself that I’d closed down. It was like breathing through the airing of grief – and I had some big ones.

I had gotten divorced but because my marriage had imploded in this spectacular drama when my business partner told me of my husband’s infidelities, I hadn’t ever owned that I had wanted out of that marriage. I was far more comfortable having it all be my ex’s fault – comfortable but not honest.

When I was 18-years-old and came to study (well, that’s what we called it at least) at the University of Washington, I ran into a group of Scientologists trying to recruit new converts one afternoon. The guy who’d stopped me said, “What about yourself do you not want anyone to know?”

Miraculously, I’d gotten to 18 without having anything in that category – or so I thought. But as I got more years under my belt, I tried to maintain that same easy-breezy exterior by hiding anything that didn’t match with that persona. I was ambitious. I almost failed religious studies in college because I never went to class and it was just an elective, but I was a minister’s daughter. I drank a bottle of wine every day. I smoked when I drank. I still bore wounds from my mean older sister growing up.

Meditation changed my life when I started airing out those rooms. I was able to let go of all the energy I was using to keep those doors shut. I no longer felt the heat coming from those rooms affecting the rest of my “house.” The secrets that I thought were so explosive turned out to be way more manageable and easier to change or heal when they weren’t hidden away.

And meditation helps me maintain that baseline level of cool. Like this morning when I sat down on the meditation cushion, felt a cut on my index finger, and I thought about myself “that was stupid.” I had no idea I was still stuck on the fact that I’d taken a band-aid off my finger yesterday and then accidentally re-opened the cut when I washed and dried my hands. Such a simple thing and I was still kicking myself 12 hours later.

Open the doors, let it flow. Like with the body, it is so much easier for me to react calmly to life when I’m not over-heated. Meditation as the air conditioning for the soul.

So I’m thrilled that I was able to do a podcast with my meditation teacher, Deirdre Wilcox. Deirdre introduced me to meditation more than 10 years ago and is my go-to person for helping me air out my hot pockets. Please listen to this wonderful woman with wisdom – I believe you will walk away from it just a little bit breezier as well.

Search for Sharing the Heart of the Matter on Apple, Amazon, Spotify or Pocket Casts or click here to listen to Episode 10: The Power of Intuition with Deirdre Wilcox on Anchor.

Then I hope you’ll leave any comments you have on the show notes page on Heart of the Matter.

(featured photo from Pexels)