Why I Love MBSR

As you must know by now, I am raising money to pay for a big teacher training course next month at the Center for Mindfulness at the UMass School of Medicine.

PLEASE CLICK HERE TO MAKE A GENEROUS GIFT

Many (most?) folks don't know what Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) is, so it's hard to know why, other than the fact that you really really like me, you should make a donation or otherwise support my training.  So here's some basic facts and a few reasons I adore this program and have received great benefit from it.

1. This is an 8-week program that has been helping people defuse their stressful suffering for nearly 40 years. 
2. It was created and developed by Jon Kabat-Zinn, at the University of Massachusetts Medical School. Jon wanted to test whether the mindfulness meditation he was practicing could be applied directly to healing and an increase in overall wellness.

   

   MBSR Founder Jon Kabat-Zinn

3. Program participants are often referred by their doctors or psychotherapists, but the course has become so successful and is offered in so many places that word of mouth brings in people with all sorts of needs and interests.
4. Participants practice meditation or mindful movement (yoga, qigong) for 45 minutes each day, guided by the teacher via MP3 recordings. MBSR is a wonderful way to establish a regular meditation practice.
5. Mindful communication, education about the physiology of stress, and an exploration of sensory perception are also included.
6. Other mindful methods have branched off of MBSR, such as Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy, Mindful Birthing, Mindful Eating, and so on.
7. I have done most of my MBSR training right here in Philadelphia, at the Mindfulness Institute at the Jefferson-Myrna Brind Center of Integrative Medicine. The Jeff program doesn't certify teachers, which is why I'm continuing on at UMass.

So why do I want to teach MBSR? Why add a whole new program to my practice, one with a lengthy and expensive training? Some of the reasons have just been spelled out, and I'll add a few.

• MBSR is not the latest fad, it has been around for a generation now, and tens of thousands of people have completed the course and been helped by it. 
• MBSR works. It has been studied clinically multiple times, with consistent, repeatable results. 
• MBSR is adaptable. It offers multiple strategies for addressing stressful conditioning. The program doesn't say there is only one way to wellness. We learn a variety of strategies and learn what works and when. 
• MBSR empowers people.  This is maybe my favorite thing in life: to witness a person's "aha moment." Because MBSR is effective, people who practice in between classes discover that they have agency, and don't have to be stuck. 
• MBSR keeps me honest.  I learned this right away when I trained as an Alexander teacher -- if you want to learn something thoroughly, and maintain a disciplined practice, teach it to others. Like the AT, teaching MBSR  requires that I continue to cultivate mindful living, so that I can model what I ask my students to practice.
• MBSR teachers make boatloads of money.  False. Just Kidding.  

These are just a few of the reasons I love MBSR.  I hope that once I begin offering the course, you or someone you care about will take it. I also hope you will consider supporting my training fund with a gift of any size. You can do that here.

If you don't live near me but are curious about an MBSR course near you, just Google it. Seriously, this thing has legs! You are likely to find one at a local hospital, college, or movement studio.

Namaste. Wishing you wellness.

Drop By Drop

While I was on retreat earlier this month, I became keenly aware of how change happens. The fact that it is always happening -- that impermanence is the most reliably prevalent thing we can experience -- is not news to me. (I quite often forget that I know it, however.) But I was not so familiar with how major shifts in habitual thinking and being happen. It is typical to become a little disheartened at some point on a long silent retreat, and it's especially easy to feel discouraged in everyday practice. It can seem like nothing much is changing, that the encounter with greed, hatred, and delusion is never-ending. In daily life it can feel like my reactivity is always operating, no matter how deep and calm my meditation is, in spite of my intention to be mindful.

During meditation practice I noticed an image arising over and over again: a drop of water falling on a stone in a river. I understood that awareness was telling me to keep at it, that with each sit or walk, with each breath, I was moving toward liberation. Continuity, discipline, momentum -- bit by bit water wears away the stone. Each drop is as important as every other, each contributes to an eventual change of shape.

The Alexander Technique is like this too. At first, lessons are mostly about recognizing what is actually going on, how one is doing things, what habits of movement and tension are present. Once the habits are known, different choices can be made, exploration can begin, new ways of thinking are cultivated. But of course this doesn't last very long; habit is strong, and perhaps at first it is only possible to take a few steps before the old familiar pattern takes over once again. If we can accept that this is the way of it, we will progress in a steady fashion, which leads to thorough change.

Thus the sage advice to "begin again and again." Each time we choose to perform an action with awareness and ease, not allowing the unconscious habits to dictate our behavior, we carve out new neural pathways, so that the next time our body-mind will recall the open and easy way, and old habits are less likely to interfere. This builds a kind of underpinning that becomes more powerful the more we practice. Sometimes it is then possible to have a big change in a short period of time. It feels like a major shift in consciousness or sensory experience just happens, all at once.

Ayya Medhanandi Bhikkhuni describes how this works, in The Dharma of Snow:

"...we need to be able to feel our humanity, to feel our nature from the inside. Not superficially but from within, where the invisible factors of mindfulness, clarity, faith, energy, concentration, and wisdom can dismantle and dissolve years and years of deluded ways of perception, of relating to life. That’s what this practice brings about, given enough patience and diligence and surrendering to the process. It brings about a spiritual transformation. It’s invisible. We don’t know it right away, but after years we begin to see. We see the changes in each other. We see the changes in ourselves. It’s quite remarkable."

I find this essay deeply encouraging, a true validation of my commitment to daily mindfulness practice. I much prefer complete and lasting change that takes time, over quick changes that disappear like soap bubbles.

So no discouragement, at least not for long. Every time we wake up, we wake up a little more.
Namaste.

Leaping Into Mindfulness, Part Two

Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes... Including you. -- Anne Lamott

When I promised to report back on my day of mindfulness, I imagined sharing lessons learned, significant inner experiences, and maybe even a little insight. My expectation was that I would gain something which could then be given. That's not how the day went, and although it was successful in every way, I didn't emerge with anything tangible. That's because there's no "there" there. There is nothing special to get, have, do, or be. In certain respects it was an ordinary, unremarkable day.

I'm frequently asked about the value of meditation, about what a person can get out of it, so it's an easy trap to fall into. As a teacher, I need to consider "takeaways" for my students. We think that by sitting or walking in formal practice we are building up to something or accumulating spiritual credit somehow. We are conditioned to think this way, especially in the U.S., where everything is a commodity, part of the American Dream mentality that having more equals being more. In recent years this has become especially true of "mindfulness." One of my three words for 2016 is prosperity, so I have been watching to see how my ideas of scarcity, abundance, and economic exchange operate in my life. I'm intrigued by how it shaped my expectations in this instance, to see my assumption that I'm "getting something" out of meditating, and that it is a thing that can be given to others.

It's complicated. Regular daily practice definitely has a stronger impact on my life than when I was only sitting now and then. The discipline to meditate even when I don't feel like it has been hugely beneficial, carrying over to other instances in my day-to-day where I don't want to participate but now choose to stay with what is happening instead of resisting or running away. I am becoming more skilled at focusing, I now have "tools" for managing my anxiety, rage, grief, and despair (also joy and enthusiasm and faith). I treat myself with more respect and kindness than before. Sometimes this spills over into how I treat other people.

These are just some of the effects of regular meditation and mindful movement practice. Yet, like the Alexander Technique, the point is not to gain but to lose, to let go of what's in the way. When I sit or walk or do Qigong, if I approach it as a way to get something (like peace of mind) or get rid of something (like tension), I will struggle. Rather than being with whatever is arising, I have an agenda for what is supposed to happen and I need to keep checking on my progress. Thus my desires are running the show. Meditation becomes the way I can see that operating and drop it. This is the practice. Yet even knowing that, I still get caught in the belief that I'll get something from the letting go that I can then share with others. This makes me smile at myself.

Here's some highlights (okay, takeaways) from my experience of an at-home day-long silent meditation retreat. There's nothing new to me in any of this, and I'm so grateful for the reinforcement of lessons I keep learning as I go.

1. Cultivate No-Time. During the first sit at 6 am I noticed a lovely feeling of expansion and freedom, and realized how luxurious it felt to know I had the whole day ahead for practice. When I sit most mornings, there's a subtle sense of urgency, a need to stay on schedule. I'm often sending messages about efficiency and productivity, like I'm saying "get 'er done!" Since then I have allowed myself to tap into the experience of no-time that meditation brings. How can I cultivate the luxury of spacious awareness, even in a short meditation?


2. Can't Unsee That. I love walking meditation. Walking in my own house, not so much. All I could see was the mess and the dirt and the repairs that need to be made. Even with eyes lowered, even when anchored in the present moment, I felt inundated by the stuff I normally choose to ignore. Just for balance, I began noticing the beautiful things too: the colors, the light, my daughters' artwork, the feeling of the rug under my feet. It sounds like a stale proverb, but it is harder to walk in your own house than in someone else's.


3. Fundamental Support. I ordered a new zabuton to match my awesome memory foam zafu, and it arrived just as my mid-morning guided meditation with my teacher Mark was ending. I appreciated the lovely difference it made in my comfort (as compared to a blanket on the rug). It wasn't due for a few more days, so I felt supported by the universe in my intentions for the day.


4. Cleaning Into Mindfulness. I scheduled a work period into the day, which expanded from 45 to 75 minutes because it was so enjoyable. That's right. Cleaning toilets and washing floors felt good. As in pleasurable, physically pleasant. Turns out the secret to enjoying household chores is simply to show up and be present while doing them. I apply my Alexander Technique in these activities, and it removes strain and increases ease. Scrubbing a sink becomes an opportunity to awaken. 


5. Inertia and Momentum. I hit the same energy roadblocks I always hit. I was sleepy after lunch, but that was anticipated; my schedule called for a walk along the canal. Still wanting to sleep when I returned, I stuck with the plan and sat for some guided metta practice. I hoped the specific nature of this type of meditation, where I consciously send wishes of loving kindness to myself and others, would keep me alert. It did not. Torpor and sluggishness won out and I took a nap, which had also been built into the schedule, knowing myself as well as I do. Upon waking, I enjoyed some Qigong practice and rebalanced all that sluggish energy. That gave me momentum to keep going through dinner time and into the evening. I was surprised at how a big part of me wanted to quit at this point, with only a few hours to go. I saw how habituated I am to hitting the internal "off switch" in the evening. I reminded myself that I wasn't working or "on," so there was no need to turn off.

Because nothing much of consequence happened, because I was in my everyday environment, because I got quiet and attended to simple things like breathing, walking, and washing up, I was able to notice how much of what I typically think of as "my life" is made up stuff.  That is, stuff that isn't actually happening, except in my mind. Since Leap Day I've continued my experiment with awareness, to keep learning how to take it off the cushion and out into the world. I forget to experiment a lot of the time, and I'm not always successful when I do remember, but wow -- thinking sure likes to create a lot of drama and unnecessary nonsense. Of course that's what the mind does, that is its nature. Doesn't mean I have to believe it.

-----------------

Are you curious about how a day of mindfulness practice might benefit you? If you live in or near Philadelphia, consider joining me for Moving Into Mindfulness on April 9. If that's not possible, invite me to teach in your region. Or contact me privately and I will help you create your own personal silent meditation retreat.

Namaste.

Leaping Into Mindfulness, Part One

After the Oscars, Before Super Tuesday

Lately I've been pining for a long retreat at Insight Meditation Society (IMS) or somewhere. I get such amazing results in my practice when I have the time and space to do nothing but meditate and do mindful movement. The 9-day silent retreat works in a powerful way to stabilize my attention and lead me into a depth of awareness that daily meditation cannot. Alas, it will be late April before I can get back here:

So I decided to try something I read about or heard from someone like Tara Brach or Sharon Salzburg or Sylvia Boorstein: a one-day silent meditation retreat at home. I chose Leap Day, February 29, because I figured, what makes more sense than to celebrate getting an "extra" 24 hours of time by practicing nonstop silent contemplation of the present moment?

This can succeed because I'm an empty nester, my husband leaves very early on Mondays to teach in New York and doesn't get home until later in the evening. I can turn off the phones, set an away message on my email, and follow a schedule very similar to the one I follow when I'm at IMS. Of course my meals won't be prepared for me, and there won't be a crew to do my dishes, but I have made meals in advance and will cook and clean mindfully (and there's a work period in the schedule). I've arranged my time in 60- or 45-minute segments, alternating between sitting and walking meditation, with periods for meal prep and eating, housework, mindful movement like outdoor walking and Qigong, and even a nap.

The midmorning sit is with guidance and in the evening I'll listen to a dharma talk. I can do this because there are literally hundreds of recorded meditation sessions and teachings at Dharma Seed, a priceless resource for curious yogis and meditators. I will also mine the 31 video podcasts from last October's Mindfulness Summit, which I have archived. There are so many options, I'm going to download a few to my Kindle and then use that for audio and video delivery. Other than that, no electronics allowed! I'll be going off the grid after the Oscars tonight and won't return until early on Super Tuesday.

I realize that one of the other reasons this is possible is because of my privilege. I have a job with flexible hours, I have a safe home, I have good health, I have the ability to give myself this day of self-care. I am grateful for my secure situation in life, and the first blessing I will recite tomorrow is one of praise and thanksgiving.

At this writing, I have about 6 more hours to speak, use my phone and computer, watch TV (the Oscars are like the Superbowl around here), and live "normally."  After the retreat is over, I'll post Part Two and report back on how it all goes.

Does this sound like something you'd like to try too? What would you need to put into place in order for it to be possible?

Namaste.

Three Words

I have decided to experiment with a way of framing my work and life this year, an approach which has often been suggested to me from sources both personal (people who know me well) and professional (experts who do not). I’ve resisted this advice in the past, feeling like it’s gimmicky or limiting somehow. Over the past few weeks, however, I’ve quietly tried it out and it feels helpful. It is simply this: choose three words for 2016 that will guide and inform everything you do.

One blogger, Chris Brogan, recently caught my attention as the latest to recommend this practice. The idea is that the three words inform decision-making, serve as touchstones during uncertainty or confusion, and challenge me to ask deeper questions about my motivations and assumptions. Chris points out the advantage of choosing three words over several or just one: the power of triangulation. Each of the words (or more accurately, the concepts behind the words) reinforce the other two and are in turn nuanced by them.

Choosing my three words was a wonderfully insightful process. I saw more clearly what I value, what I feel I lack, what I’m good at, what scares me, and what brings me satisfaction. That alone was worth it, and you might consider what three words you would choose, even if you don’t plan on holding yourself to them all year. In considering several options, I intended to strike a balance between small, specific action words (“build”) and large, universal ideas (“compassion”), but I’ve ended up with some mighty big, slightly intimidating words, and that’s okay. My three words feel friendly and demanding in equal measure, and I’m surprised at how easy it has been to turn toward them without effort when I need to.

My three words for 2016 are:

• Prosperity 
• Interdependence 
• Love

Rather fundamental, especially the last one. I will be writing about each of the three in the coming weeks, and about how relating to them or using them as guiding forces plays out in my developing work. For now, here’s some working definitions and a few initial thoughts on each.

Prosperity - a successful, flourishing, or thriving condition. Good fortune, success, profitability, affluence, wealth, ease, plenty.

This makes me quite anxious, and I have my Spiritual Accountability Group to thank for that. They rightly challenged me to take a good hard look at this, and now I’m motivated to end my ambivalence about money and success and seek to understand what it truly means to prosper. It also reflects my desire to address issues of class and privilege more directly this year. Some initial questions that arise include:

• What am I doing to thrive, how does my work help others thrive too?
• How can I more easily recognize “scarcity mentality” and embrace present-moment abundance?
•  What’s wrong with making lots of money?
•  How does money reflect, or not reflect, how I value my work in the world?

Interdependence -   the quality or condition of being interdependent; mutually reliant on one another. [Here’sa cool video about one example of interdependence]

This makes me feel so enormously joyful and grateful and safe. It is my antidote to despair. I have taught that everything is connected for 25 years and I certainly know body-mind unity. Yet it is only recently that I have been able to live in the flow of all that is (not constantly of course), sensing the complexity of how everything I can experience is interwoven and affected by everything else. We’re all in this together. Relevant queries might be:

• How can I trust interdependence and act from that trust?
• How does remembering interdependence help to develop compassion?
• What do I gain from my fierce independence? Does interdependence negate that? How does my individuality fit in?
• How does working with myself or one other person serve the whole of creation?
• How does my work with groups reflect my understanding of interdependence?

Love – There are so many definitions, as we all know. This is a link to some of them.

I suppose this could or should be a guiding word every year. This year, I have reached a point where I need to understand Love in a fresher or deeper way. Like the song Both Sides Now, I really don’t know Love at all. I experience it, I share it, I crave it, I am provoked by it, I have potent memories of it, but honestly? It feels like I am just barely waking up to Love. I have so many questions, it makes me chuckle to think of it. Here’s a few:

• Is Love our default setting?
• Love can manifest any way it wants to. How do I cultivate Love skillfully?
• What is the relationship between power, vulnerability, wellness, and Love?

My three-word framework has already made a difference in my confidence level and my ability to relax into everyday living. Somehow, having these big ideas as reference points assists me in navigating my life. I look forward to learning more as I go and sharing what I discover.

I honor the Light within you. Namaste.

2016: Being Simple, Curious, Loving

     Lordy lord, 2015 has been one hell of a year. The painful stuff was hugely painful and the pleasant stuff was supremely pleasurable. Not a lot of in-betweens. When I was clear, I was totally directed and on point. When I was confused, I was in a fog, just lost and wandering about, hoping for a familiar landmark. I established some personal discipline at a new level for me, which really paid off. A few times I forgot or ignored key facts about living as a human, which really cost a lot. Destiny will bitch-slap me when I pretend the rules don't apply to me. Mostly I worked my ass off this year, on both the outside and the inside (because there's not much difference between them). I just kept showing up, which is all person can do, really. The rest will take care of itself, if I can release the death-grip on my agenda for every single second that unfolds in my life. If I can soften, trust, choose faith, open to my innate freedom.

     In 2016 I desire to keep it simple, get curious about what is real in any given moment, and love myself. I really do want to love myself as I am, as I move through each day. When I consider various challenges for the new year, this is the one that seems the most daunting, the most radical. It goes against everything I was taught or learned or am being conditioned to believe.

     I bow deeply in humble gratitude to all the teachers who came into my life this year, whether you intended to help me learn or not. Thank you in advance if you will keep walking with me in 2016. 

     Thomas Merton wrote, "My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone."

     Not knowing is crucial; my happiness depends on it, in fact. When I move through life thinking I know what to expect, or how things should be versus how they really are, or precisely what the outcome of anything will be, I am miserable. I don't mean the instinctual kind of knowing, like when I can sense something true in my gut. I mean the kind of knowing that closes me off, decides what will happen before it has actually occurred, produces reactions in me that are habitual and stale and often inappropriate to the situation. The kind of knowing that believes the story I tell myself, over and over and over again.

     To say, "I don't know" is a little scary, like liberating things tend to be. To shift the perspective and say, "I sense that this is real and I know what I am doing and where I am going, but the truth is, I don't honestly know." Can I let go into that way of being, that open-hearted warrior stance? In 2016 I plan to test the theory that moving through life in faith is a way to love myself, and that loving myself is an act of faith.

     Namaste, dear ones. All blessings as we turn the page and create another year together.

The Grateful Days

Each day in November I posted on Facebook something for which I'm thankful. I found it easy most days, but occasionally I needed to choose to feel grateful, which always produced something significant enough to name. I noticed that the act of choosing gratitude led to a sense of lightness and ease, and more connection to my immediate environment. My intention was to strike a balance between the general and the specific, neither too shallow nor too heavy duty, so the list contains a range of reasons to be thankful.  These are the 30 things I came up with.


1 & 2 - My two lungs

3 - The right to vote      
 
4 - Health! Health Militant! (Oliver Sacks)

5 - Leading midday meditation each Thursday

6 - My kids and their generation of activist-warriors

7 - Love songs

8 - Yoda fortune cookie: "Do or do not. There is no try."

9 - My warrior nature

10 - My Alexander Technique students

11 - My job at Central Philadelphia Monthly Meeting of Friends

12 - Bucks Quarterly Meeting

13 - Moving and leading others in movement

14 - The people who joined me for Moving Into Mindfulness

15 - Love Saves the Day, a universal truth

16 - The little objects of comfort on my kitchen windowsill  

17 - My amazing husband, J. David Brimmer

18 - Ben & Jerry's

19 - Favorite movies like "O Brother Where Art Thou?" and the love of good friends

20 - Feminism

21 - Interdependence

22 - A beautiful sunset and the ability to see it

23 - A warm fire on a cold evening

24 - Hot and cold running water and modern conveniences

25- Teachers in the classroom, making a difference

26 - Companionship along the way

27 - Mild temperatures, a gentle walk with my family

28 - Doing nothing. And naps!

29 - Choosing to be thankful produces gratitude

30 - The wise ones who have come before to show the way


I have myriad reasons to be thankful, and this exercise leaves me feeling humble and very, very lucky. As we move through the coming weeks of increasing darkness, may I be grateful for everything, just as it is. May I trust in the abundance that surrounds me without needing to see very far ahead. May I let go of my agenda and rely on mindful, whole body sensing to navigate.

Advent, the Christian season of preparation and expectancy, has begun. Here is a poem from an Advent book by Jan Richardson, Night Visions:

There are other senses,

you tell us, 

and when the darkness

obscures our choices,

we must turn

to the other ways of knowing

you have given us.

In the daylight

we can get by on sight,

but for the nighttime

is our hearing,

is our tasting,

is our smelling,

is our questioning,

longing touching.

A thousand messages waiting

for our sensing

you have given us,

O God.

May beautiful expressions of gratitude light your way as we move toward the Winter Solstice. May you know the ease of well-being.