We-Di-Tation: Unveiling the Power of Shared Mindfulness for Deeper Connections

"The deepest level of communication is not communication, but communion. It is wordless ... beyond speech ... beyond concept." 

- Thomas Merton

In this exploration, we will embark on a journey to understand and implement a novel concept: we-di-tation. Unlike traditional meditation, which focuses on the self, we-di-tation extends the reflective process to include others in a shared experience of mindfulness and connection.

We'll start by defining the concept of we-di-tation. Then we'll explore how it diverges from conventional meditation practices and underline its importance in creating deeper, more empathetic relationships. We'll discuss why this practice is so crucial—not only for our personal growth but also for societal harmony and collective awakening.

Then, we'll delve into practical steps for mastering this practice, from learning to shift our 'Spotlight of Attention' between the self and others to understanding the pitfalls of one-dimensional (1-D) listening and discovering the critical role of self-management in effectively applying we-di-tation.

Understanding and Applying We-Di-Tation

When we hear the word "meditation," our mind likely jumps to images of tranquil solitude, quiet spaces, and the attention directed toward our inner world. But we can also meditate within our relationships, not just in isolation. It can be a we-thing rather than just a me-thing. Not only can we "me-ditate," but we can also "we-di-tate." 

We-di-tation is a practice that involves directing our meditative focus towards others and our shared experiences, as opposed to the inward focus of traditional meditation. Practicing we-di-tation flips the traditional idea of meditation on its head. Instead of turning inward, it's about opening up—making connections, relating to other people, even growing together as a community. It can revamp our relationships (for the better, of course!).

Taking this voyage of collective mindfulness is not just a pleasant idea; it has empirical backing. A notable study published in the Journal of Marital and Family Therapy in 2007 is a testament to the power of shared mindfulness practices. The research involved couples embarking on a mindfulness-based relationship enhancement program. The findings were illuminating and promising—a significant increase in relationship satisfaction, a sense of closeness, acceptance of one another, and autonomy. 

This underscores the potential of shared mindfulness practices—such as we-di-tation—to forge stronger, more fulfilling interpersonal relationships. This transformation of solitude to unity, of silence to a shared melody, is the essence of we-di-tation. It suggests that we can extend the personal growth nurtured by meditation to include those around us and, in doing so, foster deeper, more empathetic connections.

We-di-tation is about deepening our interactions with others and fostering a sense of understanding and connection. It's turning our conversations into shared experiences of awareness and growth. The big idea? Be present, listen wholeheartedly, and manage our attention. This way, we-di-tation can transform our relationships and contribute to a collective awakening. 

We-di-dating this way is about breaking down those invisible walls we tend to put between ourselves and others. Like meditation, when we we-ditate, we are 100% there. We're relating, soaking in their words, feelings, and world. It's about being with. We're sending them a signal that says, "Hey, I'm here with you right now." It's about reaching out, not withdrawing inward. 

We-Di-Tation in Everyday Life and Beyond 

We-di-tation bonds us with buddies, colleagues, and family. Instead of being lost in our thoughts or scrolling through our phones at the dinner table, we can consciously be present with our family. We listen to our children's stories of their day, engaging with questions and comments that show we're genuinely interested. We also self-manage any stress or fatigue from our day, ensuring it doesn't cloud our interaction with our loved ones.

Being present, curious, and actively listening signals that others matter. It shows we're willing to step out from the 'me show' and truly understand them from their side of the table. This attention creates the safety and trust we explored in the last section. When others feel acknowledged and valued, they let down their guard and become more open. That is where the magic happens. We-di-tation invites someone into a cozy space to connect, rather than standing on opposite sides of a high fence. 

It also deepens connections and makes us better friends. For parents, we-di-tation deepens the connection with children. It's not just about helping them grow but also about getting to know them. As a leader at work or in the community, we-di-tation can help us understand the people we support. 

During a team meeting, we can practice we-di-tation by listening attentively to each colleague's ideas, ensuring we understand their viewpoints rather than just waiting our turn to speak. Even if an idea doesn't align with ours, we can give them our full attention and respect their perspective. We also manage our inner dialogue by focusing our attention on the discussion at hand, not letting our minds wander to that impending deadline or our disagreement yesterday.

We-di-tation can lead to collective awakening and systemic change. Imagine a world where individuals understand each other deeply, where empathy and understanding are the norm rather than the exception. This might seem like a romantic ideal, but it's a possibility worth striving for, and we-di-tation is a step in the right direction.

We-di-tation goes beyond personal relationships; it can change the world. We could be looking at a collective awakening and major shifts in how we interact as a society. Imagine a world where everyone truly gets each other, where empathy isn't a rare gem but as common as our morning cup of joe. While it might seem like a pipe-dream, it's one worth chasing. Every time we practice we-di-tation, we take a step towards that reality. 

The Spotlight of Attention

Learning to we-di-tate involves the same process as acquiring a new skill, such as cooking or playing the guitar. We have to practice, learn, and apply certain techniques, and it's the same with this kind of meditation.

Just like meditation, the key is awareness. We want to imagine our attention to be like a giant, super-powered spotlight. Wherever that spotlight shines, it brings clarity and detail. It lights up the stage, showing us what's really going on. That's what happens when we apply a meditative approach to relating with others. We're directing our inner spotlight, sometimes inward and sometimes outward. 

Think of it this way: If we’re at a theater, and the spotlight operator focuses only on one actor the entire time, we would miss a significant part of the performance. In the same way, if we only focus on one aspect of relating, we miss out on understanding the full picture. We want to learn to shift that spotlight around, highlighting different parts of our internal and external experiences, giving us a fuller understanding of ourselves, others and the spaces we occupy and co-create with.

We don't just turn on the spotlight and leave it to shine in one place. The real trick is learning how to maneuver that spotlight, to move it around and illuminate different things at different times. Maybe one moment, it's shining on our emotions. The next, it might be lighting up the whole environment. The next, it could be lasering it onto another's words.

This kind of skill doesn't usually come naturally. It takes a bit of effort at first, but once we get the hang of it, it becomes a natural part of navigating the world of relating. 

1-D Listening

Sometimes in a movie, a voiceover narrates the main character's thoughts and feelings. Their internal dialogue is the star of the show. That's what 1-D listening is like. Imagine we are in a conversation with a partner who's telling us about their day. But instead of hearing what they're saying, we're half-listening while thinking about what we’ll cook for dinner or how we'll finish that big work project. We’re there, but we're not really there. 

We're more tuned in to our own thoughts and feelings than to the person in front of us. The following are common examples of how we listen in 1-D: 

• "I wonder if I remembered to turn off the stove at home."

• "This story is boring. I can't wait to change the topic."

• "I wish they would stop talking so I can share my news."

• "I'm uncomfortable with this conversation; I need to find a way out."

• "I disagree with what they're saying, but I'll just nod along until it's my turn to speak."

And when we listen to the voices in our heads, it's like we're relating to ourselves more than to the other person. Without we-di-tation, our relationships are like a dimly lit stage instead of a vibrant theater performance. They're missing that depth and richness of truly connecting with someone else.

Now, I'm not saying we should totally ignore our own experiences because they're important too. There's no argument that our own wants and needs play a significant role in our decision-making process. They serve as our personal GPS, guiding us to make choices that align with our unique path. Whether it involves selecting a career that aligns with our aspirations or finding a compatible life partner, being in tune with our own thoughts and feelings is crucial.

Also, understanding our own boundaries is akin to having a personal alarm system. They notify us when something doesn't feel right or we are venturing outside our comfort zone, allowing us to establish and maintain healthy boundaries. Moreover, comprehending our own thoughts and feelings empowers us to prioritize our well-being, advocate for our needs, and take charge of our own lives.

However, it's a bit like sitting in a theater and only watching one actor when there's an entire ensemble performing. Sure, the drumbeat is important, but we're missing out on the guitar, the bass, and the vocals. We're not really experiencing the full richness of the music.

The same goes for our relationships. During a disagreement with our partner, instead of getting defensive or retreating into silence, we can apply the principles of we-di-tation. We can listen to their concerns without interrupting or formulating our rebuttal in our minds. We manage our emotional responses and remain open and engaged. We strive to understand their feelings, signaling that we value their perspective.

When we only focus the spotlight on ourselves, we fail to illuminate those around us. And in doing so, we miss out on the beautiful symphony of human connection. 

Self-Management

This is where the art of self-management comes in. Think of self-management as operating the spotlight in a theater of conversation. This spotlight represents our attention, and we're in charge of controlling where it shines. Sometimes, the spotlight might wander and illuminate the backstage of our mind, highlighting thoughts of self-doubt or distractions. These elements are a part of the show too - they have their roles, their own importance - but they're not always the main act.

Mastering the spotlight means recognizing when it has strayed and gently guiding it back onto the lead actor, in this case, the person we're engaged with. Sometimes, the light might get a little shaky, especially if the conversation is challenging or a previous discussion has unsettled us. That's when we tap into our toolkit of grounding rituals, stabilizers that help refocus the light, like slow, conscious breathing.

Once in a while, the spotlight might not be functioning at its best. It's in these moments that transparency comes into play. Just as a good theater crew would communicate any technical issues, if we cannot bring our full presence to the conversation, it's okay to say so.

Remember, though, controlling the spotlight is not about completely shutting off the backstage lights of our thoughts and feelings. It's about acknowledging them and also making a conscious choice to keep the same amount or most of the light on the main stage. This skill takes practice, but with time, we become better at it.

And don't forget, operating the spotlight isn't done out of obligation but out of love for the show. Maneuvering the spotlight is an act of love. We do it because we care about the entire performance, not just our part. When we focus our spotlight with a spirit of genuine curiosity, it not only creates a better experience for the person we're listening to, but it also enriches our own lives.

Embarking on Our We-Di-Tation Journey

Let's explore how to jump into it and make we-di-tation our own. The best part about we-di-tation is its simplicity - no need for fancy gadgets or a special place. All we need is to be present, along with a buddy or a group who's up for the ride and the spotlight of our attention.

It can help to start by checking in with ourselves, asking how we're doing. Are we feeling calm and clear, jumpy and agitated, or dull and heavy? We're just noticing without judging ourselves. Once we've got a handle on our vibe, it's time to shine the spotlight onto our fellow we-di-tators. We're listening to their words, picking up on the tone of their voice, watching their facial expressions, and observing their body language.

Next, it's all about balancing our attention. We want to keep toggling our focus from us to them and back again. We're keeping an eye on how their dialogue influences our mood and how our listening quality affects them. We might have judgmental or distracting thoughts popping up. We want to acknowledge them but avoid identifying with them.

Keep in mind, we-di-tation isn't a one-and-done deal. It's a skill that gets better the more we do it. If, at first, it's a little tough to stay present with others, we can cut ourselves some slack. Stick with it, and we'll soon find it's easier to connect with others, build stronger bonds and grow together. 

Now, go on and give it a whirl!

Surfing Emotions with 'Bare Attention'

Jonathan's world had been tumultuous for a while, an emotional tempest that had been churned up when his partner, Lacy, decided to relocate from the tranquil Midwest to join him in the bustling city of San Francisco. This was a significant life event that shook the calm waters of their relationship, causing a storm of change to surge around them.

Lacy's adjustment to this drastic change wasn't smooth. The bright lights and bustling streets of the city were a stark contrast to her former quiet Midwestern life. The unfamiliarity of a new city, the challenges of a new job, and the raw wound from the loss of her beloved grandmother conspired to stir up emotions within her, affecting their relationship. Lacy's coping mechanisms in the face of these challenges stood in stark contrast to Jonathan's. She reacted, she lashed out, while Jonathan, a believer in the power of open dialogue, felt drained and left questioning their decision to live together.

In the midst of this emotional maelstrom, Jonathan found solace in a guiding principle of Buddhist psychology - 'bare attention.' The practice of 'bare attention' isn’t complicated or elaborate; it's about observing thoughts and feelings as they occur, right at the very moment, without any judgments or interpretations. You're just watching the events unfold without getting tangled up in them. This practice can help create a sense of calm and clarity, even when dealing with difficult situations or emotions.

It's like being a surfer, carefully watching the ever-changing waves, studying their movements, understanding their patterns, and learning to navigate them without fear. 'Bare attention' isn't about trying to cling onto experiences that make Jonathan feel good or pushing away ones that cause discomfort. The practice asks him to accept things as they are, just like a surfer who doesn't control the waves but adapts to their rhythm and flow. The sea of his emotions is no different. When he reacts to the waves, it's just a part of his journey. With time and practice, these reactions quiet down, allowing him to observe his emotions and thoughts in their purest and simplest form.

‘Bare attention' wasn't demanding him to change. It wasn't asking him to manipulate his feelings, repress his reactions, or alter the dynamics of his relationship with Lacy. It was a call to become an observer. A surfer doesn't dominate the sea; instead, he respects its power, understands its ebb and flow, and adjusts his actions to ride the waves.

Being a life-long surfer, Jonathan immediately took to the concept of ‘bare attention.’ This shift in perspective brought along a transformative realization for Jonathan. Blaming himself, Lacy, or the circumstances they found themselves in was not the solution, and in fact, it was this blame game that was contributing to his suffering. The path to relief lay in understanding and accepting that he, with all his imperfections and struggles, had inherent value, just like anyone else.

Imagine Jonathan now as a skilled surfer, fearlessly riding the fluctuating waves of his thoughts and feelings. These waves, much like his emotions, varied in their intensity and strength. They were in perpetual motion, sometimes rising high, other times falling low. Yet, just as a surfer doesn't control the waves but learns to ride them, Jonathan found himself learning to adapt to his emotional landscape without attempting to control or suppress it.

This was not about passive acceptance or resignation; it was about an active, engaged observation of his inner world. The practice of 'bare attention' didn't change the nature of the waves; it was transforming the surfer himself. It was a guiding compass helping Jonathan navigate the rough currents of his emotions, guiding him towards resilience and wisdom, without the unrealistic burden of striving for perfection or having all the answers.

With the passage of time, Jonathan found himself not only navigating the ebbs and flows of his own emotions but also contending with the difficulties presented by his complex relationship with Lacy. The highs and lows of their relationship mirrored the unpredictability of the ocean he loved. Lacy's tendencies to either ignore their issues or to express herself through passive-aggressive behavior added another layer of turbulence to their dynamic. It was not unlike a surfer who must acknowledge and respect the sheer power of the sea, anticipating its shifts and learning to move with them rather than against them.

Just as he was learning to meet his own emotions with compassion and understanding, he endeavored to do the same with Lacy, even when her actions made it difficult. Through this journey of personal and relational introspection, Jonathan found his resilience and wisdom. Their conflicts and resolutions, moments of disconnect and unity, all became part of his learning to ride the waves of life, and the challenges of love, with grace. He was no longer at the mercy of the storm but was learning to navigate it with balance and dignity, despite the choppy waters of their relationship.

In essence, 'bare attention' was serving as a transformative tool for Jonathan. As he continued his practice, he was beginning to notice a change in his approach to life's challenges, not just with Lacy but in all aspects. He was no longer merely surviving the storm, he was learning to surf it. The waves, the storm, the emotional highs and lows were all a part of life. And now, with 'bare attention' as his guide, he was ready to ride them all, with grace, resilience, and a newfound wisdom.

Meditation Practice: Experiencing 'Bare Attention'

Now that we've discussed the theory behind 'bare attention,' it's time to experience it for ourselves. I've prepared a simple meditation exercise that you can follow along to get a firsthand understanding of 'bare attention.'

To start the practice, just click on the link below. This guided meditation will lead you through the process, step-by-step, helping you cultivate 'bare attention' in your daily life.

Start the 'Bare Attention' Meditation

Dismember to Re-member

Collectively we are all being forced to reassess what's important and what matters. Shelter-in-place is forcing many of us to look within, to find out what we're made of, what's driving us. This virus is forcing us to remember, to remember our dreams. In a way, we are being dismembered in order to re-member. We are being disintegrated in order to reintegrate.

Are we going to try to go back to the way things were? We so easily forget what it was actually like only a few months ago: the striving, the pressure, the speed and intensity, the addiction to being busy. Most importantly, we overlook the twin misconceptions afflicting our collective consciousness: the fallacy that we are never enough as we are and that something outside of ourselves will pacify this emptiness we feel inside.

We aren't skinny enough, aren't young enough, aren't smart enough. Our rampant materialism has been an unconscious attempt to cover up this subtle feeling of inadequacy and dissatisfaction. Material things can never fill this void. What we desire exists only in relationship to ourselves, to another, to others and to spirit.

As we consume more than we need, we lose touch with our interdependence with one another and to this earth. Our disconnection upsets what truly matters. We upend the balance of nature, which we are utterly dependent on for our survival. Our waters become poisoned, and our earth is scorched to feed our insatiable greed. We can see its effect in our own homes as we watch our children growing addicted to video games and drugs.

Nature has been poking us to remember for some time, but we have been ignoring her calls in the form of natural disasters, mass killings and lying politicians. The more we ignore her, the more we can see how it affects not just ourselves but everyone around us. It's hard not to see today that this fundamental choice to come back home to the heart and to remember what matters effects everyone.

We don't like to feel confined in our homes, but sheltering in place is the perfect excuse to drop in and confront our ego's delusion of not enough-ness. We will never find what we are looking for through our consumption. Until we figure this out, nature will continue to humble us, to remind us that we are of the earth. We are related to all life and to The One Life. This moment is dismembering us so that hopefully we can re-member.

Letting Crisis Wake You Up

Covid-19: The Perfect Teacher

This could be a random moment, one grand, human error where a virus jumped from an animal to the human population and where that population was woefully unprepared. That’s one way of viewing this experience we are all in together, a series of fuck ups with enormous ramifications.

I’m not suggesting we dismiss this perspective, but it is only that, one way of viewing this time. And it’s one that leaves me cynical, scared and hopeless, with only three options: being mad, afraid or falling into a pit of despair. These three basic human reactions generate more suffering in the world than is needed.

Another point-of-view-and not necessarily the only one or even the correct one-is that Covid-19 is the perfect teacher. The uncertainty it presents in our lives and the lives of our loved ones might be the ideal curriculum we need to wake up to our purpose, to find our unique path, to give our gift, our medicine. And for each of us, that’s going to be something different. For one person, it might be the calling to step up and lead. For another, it might be about taking a new career path, one that is more aligned with our values.

While humanity has never experienced a pandemic of such proportions, we know in our DNA, how to ride this wave. Crises are not new to humanity. Our ancestors were all once part of tribes, and when tribes got decimated, either by illness, war or famine, the survivors had to reassess. They couldn’t go on in the same way. And what did they do?

They struggled, but eventually, they went inward and touched the fear, vulnerability and grief. Deep below the heartache, they also found a well of hope and possibility, a place where discoveries could be made and where new and unique ideas and approaches could alter their lives and the lives of those they loved and were connected to. That’s one possibility for this moment, not just for the so-called elite or leaders, but for each of us. It might just be the ideal curriculum we need to wake up, to reassess our values and priorities, and to connect ever-deeper with the well of love and connection that exists beyond the rational mind, beyond the fear and hurt we carry.

To know that well, to touch it, requires patience, focus and presence. It requires going inward and wading through the whole catastrophe we are in until we find that spark of insight, of wisdom that we each carry as our birthright. I don’t know what this new time will bring us, but when I hold the possibility that this moment is the perfect teacher, I am profoundly hopeful we will find our way.

How to Meditate

How to Be Mentally and Emotionally Strong

Both individually and collectively, we are facing a moment of great disillusionment. We are losing faith in our institutions. Many of us feel more angst about our futures and the very future of our planet. The easy paths are either to 1) ignore the chaos we see around us, 2) to let the pain of disenchantment feed our anger and fear or 3) fall into a pit of despair at the state of things. 

Our anxiety at the state of things might be the thing we need to wake up. Rather than regarding this collective crisis as one big mistake, we might also consider it the perfect curriculum required for each of us to grow and evolve into the human beings we need to be. As the spiritual teacher and author, A.H. Almaas, writes:

The problematic situations in your life are not chance or haphazard. They are specifically yours, designed specifically for you by a part of you that…doesn’t want you to lose the chance. It will go to extreme measures to wake you up, and it will make you suffer greatly if you don't listen. What else can it do? This is its purpose. (1)

Everything we touch and see, including the things that cause our suffering, has within it the potential to wake us up. Developing emotional strength requires then that we be willing to let go of what we think should or shouldn’t happen, what’s right or wrong, what’s good or bad. Instead, we bring a quality of openness, receptivity, even a welcoming to whatever it is that we experience, even if it is initially unpleasant.

Instead of resisting or ignoring this unpleasantness, we want to learn to turn toward it, to face it. Welcoming unpleasant feelings is both counterintuitive and daunting, especially if we have spent a lifetime turning away. Most of us develop a guarding around our hearts to protect us from pain or discomfort. We have become addicition to distractions of various forms, like compulsively checking social media, ingesting intoxicants or binge-watching the latest series on Netflix. 

If we can let our hearts feel again, we might initially confront overwhelming pain, but if we can learn to stay centered and non-reactive, the initial discomfort will eventually abate. If we can learn to ride our emotions all the way to shore, we begin to discover an inextinguishable strength within ourselves. In mindfulness, this strength is called boddhichitta. “Chitta” is heart-mind. “Bodhi” is the same root as “buddha.” It means awakened, enlightened or completely open. Our bodhichitta is a completely open heart and mind. As Pema Chodron puts it:

Bodhichitta is our heart—our wounded, softened heart. Right down there in the thick of things, we discover the love that will not die. This love is bodhichitta. It is gentle and warm; it is clear and sharp; it is open and spacious. The awakened heart of bodhichitta is the basic goodness of all beings. (2)

Few of us access this fountain of strength on our own. We need support and guidance. Many of us mistakenly believe that asking for help is a sign of weakness. It is, instead, a sign that the stakes have just gotten higher, and the current set of tools we have aren’t quite up to snuff. 

The good news is that there are trustworthy people out there to help teach us how to find our unique way forward. They come in the form of guides, teachers, therapists, coaches, doctors, healers, books, teachings, practices, philosophies, medicines etc. For many of us, the plethora of choices can be overwhelming.  

The critical thing to look for is any non-dogmatic teaching. It would help if you were allowed to experiment with what you learn rather than taking it on faith. It would be best if you didn’t have to follow tradition for tradition’s sake but through your own experimentation. If you discover that the practices and teachings both make sense and work for you, you’ve found your path to developing inner strength.

Footnotes 

(1) Almaas, A.H. Diamond Heart Book One: Elements of the Real Man. Shamabala Boulder. 2000.

 (2) Chodron, Pema. Comfortable with Uncertainty: 108 Teachings on Cultivating Fearlessness and Compassion. Boston, MA. Shambhala. Kindle Edition. 2008.

Why Discipline Matters

This morning, as I was coming home from yoga practice, I came across this beautiful lotus in the picture. It seemed to me that it was saying, "Yes!!!" In spite of the muck of life from which it grows, this lotus wanted to spread itself wide open, to blossom in all of its fullness. In Hindu and Buddhist symbolism the lotus represents purity of body, speech and mind because it emerges from the muddy waters of attachment and desire from where it was born.

This isn't very different from the "Yes" that we say each morning we either stand on our mats to begin our yoga practice or sit on your cushions to meditate. We're saying, "Yes" in spite of the fact that we may feel like shit; in spite of the fact that we may be shut down; in spite of the fact that we would rather be nestled in bed. But what we're saying, "Yes" to is the transformation of those stuck, shitty, shut-down places. We're saying, "Yes" to life.

A Mirror for Ourselves

It takes incredible determination and courage to show up and practice on a day-in-day-out basis. Practice is a mirror. Because we practice the same thing—more or less—each day, it's easy to see misalignments both physically and emotionally.  

Yesterday, I had had a disagreement with a vendor I buy supplies from, and I was pretty pissed last night, but I felt pretty clear when I went to sleep. However as soon as I began my meditation practice this morning, I could feel myself fuming, again. And while I tried to ignore, overcome or distract myself from the irritation, I couldn't help but just keep spinning stories of vengeance the whole time. I can't say that I handled the anger with what the Buddhists call "skillful means," but that's what the practice can do. It puts you face-to-face with your stuff, whether you're ready to acknowledge it or not.

And those are the moments when you are really learning the deeper aspects of practice, those moment when you're caught in guilt, anger, grief, or any other powerful emotion that just triggers self-loathing or that comparison game we do.  You know the game,"She's better than I am." "I am more flexible than her." "I wish my butt was less flabby." That whole conversation is an invitation to look deeper, not at the content but at the underlying emotion that's running it.  

Yesterday a dedicated student of mine was complaining in class because, in spite of the fact that he'd been working on his backbend for several years, it lacked the mobility he thought was required of a practitioner of his status. The big learning for him was not having a physical breakthrough but in the recognition that what drove the need for a breakthrough was an underlying, anxiety that didn't just pertain to his backbend but to all aspects of his life.  Now that we've uncovered the anxiety, he can start to work with that rather than the need to "beat it" with a better backbend.

Showing Up in Spite of . . .

The "Yes" that I am speaking of is that in spite of all the bad news we see on 24 hour news channels, the onslaught of information coming our way through the Internet, the bills to pay, the loneliness and isolation we face, we still show up. Like the lotus, when we show up to practice, we're saying, "I could just watch TV or sleep a few more hours. I could give in to inertia or the anxiety or sadness or boredom, but I know that I am more than this. And these feelings are fodder for a breakthrough."

Showing up is a stand for transformation. Through practice, we meet those stuck, tender, painful, and often lonely places within our being that we typically try to avoid. We run away in hot pursuit of things that we think will make us feel better, like sex, money, or the perfect partner.

I'm often asked how long it took me to "be with" the painful things without turning away or distracting myself. Admittedly, there are lots of places I am still struggling to acknowledge in myself. As you read above, I am not particularly masterful with some forms of anger, but then if I look at my capacity to hold feelings of grief or boredom, I can say that I have gotten so much better.

Essentially, all practices cultivate our capacity to stay and be with whatever shows up. That staying really is about staying in relationship to yourself as distinct from the suffering that's showing up. In addition, the staying is about creating a relationship to the suffering. It's a relationship of your choice. If you want to be pissed off that you feel pain, then you get to be pissed off. If you want to see the pain as the key to your awakening, then you get to choose that. My experience is that the more empowering the relationship you create, the more you say, "Yes" to that which you are staying with, the more possibility there is for a breakthrough.

To give you an example, a client of mine was promoted to a huge project in her corporate job that required that she create coordinated communication throughout the company. The project was stalled for one year, which left her feeling guilty and irresponsible. Behind the self-criticism, a feeling of unworthiness was driving her. For a year, she practiced meditation, and her intention was to untangle the self-criticism and to meet the underlying feeling with warmth, compassion, and kindness. About a month ago, she mentioned to me that the sense of unworthiness was waning, and the project had just begun flowing with ease.

Yoga and meditation are lifelong practices. Those tender places cannot be repaired in a day or a few years. What I can say with certainty from first hand experience is that slowly, slowly all things are healed through the cauldron of practice. The bottom line, though, is that this transformation needs a "Yes!!!" from us. All we need to do is show up, do the practice and stay awake.