Where is your happy place?

Dec6

A potential happy place...a grassy meadow

Lately, I’ve been doing some research on mental health. Without a doubt, yoga and meditation are part of my physical and mental health but I am always open to other possibilities, methods and techniques.

Much like the rest of the country, I’m no stranger to therapy either, and have certainly seen my fair share of excellent, and not so excellent, therapists. So it was actually one of my therapists who first mentioned meditation to me and introduced me to all the different forms that it can take. It was on the proverbial doctor’s couch that I learned about finding my happy place.

Yes, it may sound corny and like something your mom told you to do when you were little. But there is a lot to be said for finding a place in your mind that you can instantly go to when you need to remove yourself from a stressful situation. In fact, this practice is used in many different kinds of therapy, including Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR), a form of psychotherapy, which aims to help people cope with and process traumatic experiences. You can read more about EMDR here. “Happy Places” are also used in many different kinds of mediation, allowing the person meditating to mentally bring themselves back to the present, and into a mental state that is immediately calming.

They say you can pick any place; somewhere you’ve actually been or somewhere you haven’t. It can even be a single moment or a memory from your past, or even excitement about the future. Just a moment that makes you happy and that you can focus on every single detail, creating a perfect picture in your mind.

So for meditation purposes, I’ve been trying to come up with my “happy place.” And it would be an understatement to say that my search has been a long one: I’ve been trying to find the elusive location for the last ten years. I mentioned in an earlier post that I have a hard time meditating but even harder for me is to describe a place that puts me perfectly at ease. And so, I thought I would do it here, amongst friends.

For the sake of realism, and since as a writer, they say to write what we know, I think I prefer my happy place to come from a real memory. And I have a lot of great memories to choose from and have been blessed to have a kind a loving family. But as a child, I was often wrought with worry, and inherently, residual effects of that anxiety remain with me today as an adult. This means that many of my memories from childhood are robbed with equally persistent thoughts of my own stresses. So my happy place won’t be originating from my childhood.

So when I think of when I’ve been happiest, the moment that comes to mind is when I’m writing a novel or a story, by hand. Now there have been countless numbers of these moments in my life, so many that I can’t even fathom the total. But when I have a pen in my hand and a pad of paper in front of me, that’s when I feel the most at peace. And perhaps you’re thinking, BY HAND? ARE YOU NUTS? It’s possible, that indeed I am. But I have to say that the most creative things I have written have been done with my hand, not at the computer, which often means I write them out and then type them out. Maybe this is why it’s taken me so long to finish!

When I close my eyes and think of my happy place, I am with a pen and I can smell the ink on the paper. The paper is rough against my hands and I can hear nothing but my own breath. My happy place is spent doing what I love.

So tell me about your happy place! What gives you peace? What memory snaps you out of stressful moments and brings you into the present? What scene do you create in your head when practicing yoga or meditation? Whatever the place, I do recommend that you find your happy place. Create it, hold on to it, and use it whenever you need to get away, relax, or simply smile.

Kelly

Filed Under: Everyday Spirit, Meditation Tagged With: ,

Vipassanā Meditation: The Honing of Insight

Dec1

Vipassanā is a Pali word meaning “insight” or “clear vision.” Vipassanā or Insight Meditation is an ancient meditation technique that emerged thousands of years ago in India. It is traditionally credited to Gautama Buddha, but it is more likely that he resurrected it from an earlier tradition and popularized it. The Insight Meditation practitioner sits quietly, simply observing her mind. Rather than using a mantra or following the breath (as in Samatha, or calming the mind), she simply witnesses her own mental states with steadfast attention, becoming fully aware of the impermanence of all things.

All sentient beings are said to be defined by three concepts: anicca or “impermanence;” dukkha or “dissatisfaction;” and anattā or “non-self.” This is not nearly as bleak as it sounds! If impermanence were not the way of all things, we would never experience our children growing up, never find relief of pain, and never improve our lives. The teaching on dukkha is a simple acknowledgement that all beings with sense organs experience dissatisfaction: hunger, desire, and pain.

The concept of anattā is central to every school of Buddhist thought. It is the idea that there is no such thing as a separate “self;” all selves are part of a whole. Part of the goal in Insight Meditation is to become fully cognizant of this stunning fact. We are all made of “non-self” parts—traits inherited from our parents, elements derived from our environment, and our feelings, desires, and other mental states. Take away any one of these, and we would cease to exist. When one becomes convinced of the reality of non-self, compassion and nonviolence become as natural as breathing. The “other” is a part of you, as you are a part of me. It makes no sense to think of preserving the well-being of another in terms of personal sacrifice; in taking care of another, you take care of yourself.

What about Nirvana? What does it actually mean, and how does it inform this particular worldview? The word is Sanskrit, and translates roughly as “blowing out.” In the Buddhist context, it means the extinction of the three fires of hatred, greed, and delusion. It is the opposite of samsara, the endless cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. Many in the west are surprised when they first learn that reincarnation was not viewed positively in ancient India (as a second chance to get things right); it was a cycle from which one sought release. Nirvana for the ancient Indians meant the extinction of the self, the end of samsara and union with the Self, an idealized, transcendent identity. For the Buddha (whose point of view was nontheistic), it simply meant bliss: the extinction of all desires that resulted in ultimate peace.

Samadhi is required for Insight Meditation: it means “concentration of the mind.” When one achieves this, it leads to prajñā, or “wisdom.” It was thought that achieving prajñā while living according to the Mindfulness Trainings (abstention from killing, stealing, sexual misconduct and intoxication) would lead the practitioner to Nirvana, the ultimate goal. The individual would become enlightened and released from samsara.

Can these concepts be helpful for those who do not believe in reincarnation? I believe they can. The Mindfulness Trainings are applicable to anyone who wants to follow a spiritual path—anyone who wants to be fully human, in fact. Impermanence is an observable fact; we are in a perpetual state of flux, as is everything around us. We all experience dissatisfaction and long for enlightenment. There’s no question that greed, hatred and delusion cause us to suffer, just as it’s clear that a “non-self” attitude of compassion for others leads to happiness. The honing of insight through Vipassana meditation can be of immeasurable benefit to all of us.

 

Filed Under: Meditation Tagged With: , ,

The Benefits of the Metta Prayer

Nov3

“May she dwell in safety.
May she be happy and healthy.
May she be free of afflictions.
May she be at peace.”

*     *     *

Siddhartha, after he had become the Buddha, prescribed the Metta Prayer for his disciples. While I am not a Buddhist (I’m a Humanist who practices holistic spirituality), I’ve found this and many of Siddhartha’s prescriptions very practical and beneficial.

Metta is from the Pali, meaning “good will” or “lovingkindness.” The Metta Prayer is designed to intentionalize good wishes and a sense of benevolence for oneself and others. The idea is to wish the good things we all naturally desire; first for oneself, then for a close loved one, then radiating out by degrees until one has encompassed all sentient beings everywhere. The Buddha said that the benefits of saying this prayer were many: deep, restful sleep, fewer bad dreams, good relationships, and a serene countenance, to name a few. I’ve found this to be the case; I’ve adapted the original language of the prayer for my own use. I share it here in hopes that other practitioners will find it useful.

Begin by assuming the meditation posture that comes most naturally to you (for me, it’s the half-lotus position). Breath in and out mindfully several times. Then, when you are fully centered, begin by wishing good things for yourself. On each out-breath, say something like the following quietly (or merely inwardly):

May I dwell in safety.
May I be happy and healthy.
May I be free from afflictions.
May I be at peace.

Next, open yourself to the presence of a dear loved one, a person for whom you have natural feelings of affection. Repeat the process, using the pronouns “he” or “she” in place of “I.”

May he dwell in safety, etc.

After that, you should find yourself open to considering the happiness of someone neutral in your life. It may be a clerk you see at the grocery store, or any other individual you encounter regularly but have essentially neutral feelings about. Repeat the intention for him or her.

By the time you’ve wished these good things for yourself, a close loved one, and a neutral person, you may find yourself more open than you may have thought to wishing the same for someone your mind identifies as an “enemy” or opponent. When you wish the same good things for this person, and an amazing thing happens: his or her identity is transformed within your mind. It’s hard to retain feelings of antipathy for someone for whom you are actively cultivating feelings of benevolence. When that sense of antipathy falls away, you are apt to feel free, light, and relieved.

Next in your ever-increasing series of concentric circles of well-wishing comes “all human beings, without distinction:”

May they dwell in safety.
May they be happy and healthy, etc.

The final phase of the prayer includes “all sentient beings, without distinction.” This is a wonderfully liberating phase, the point at which you gain the sense of your benevolence extending to every living being. Your lovingkindness now encompasses all beings: those known to you, and those as yet unknown.

May they dwell in safety.
May they be happy and healthy.
May they be free of afflictions.
May they be at peace.

Your lovingkindness has now extended like ripples in a pond, starting with yourself and moving out in concentric circles until it has encompassed all life. I can tell you in all honesty that the first time I did this, it was a transcendent experience. Most amazing, perhaps was what it did to my sense of the “enemy.”

Someone has said that the best way to destroy your enemies is to make them your friends, and I believe that. The wonderful thing is, you don’t even need the other person’s permission! You can simply allow his or her identity to take a new shape in your mind through focused meditation. When you actively wish the best for an “enemy,” over time she gradually becomes someone you care deeply for. You realize that she’s a person with good and bad qualities (just like you); greed, ignorance and anger in each of you have simply found a temporary point of intersection. Either one of you has the power to disengage that collision of energy and transform it into something beautiful. You may find that person becoming a good friend (such was the case once with me), or the transformation may stand only in your own mind. Even if you never have another interaction with that person, the transformation will be nonetheless genuine.

When you arrive at “all human beings without distinction,” you find yourself being inclusive of people you may have regarded previously with fear, suspicion, and even hatred. Again, the inner transformation of these people is the key. Perhaps you’ll have the opportunity to meet one of those “others” and discover that (again) they’re flawed human beings just like you.

But the real action is in the final phase, when you include “all sentient beings” in your circle of compassion. After doing this meditation a few times, you may find yourself drawn to animal welfare causes. You may even find yourself becoming a vegetarian without fanfare or announcements. I very quietly stopped eating meat for a year after starting the Metta Prayer, and it was neither a “cause” or “advocacy” on my part. It was just a natural outgrowth of wishing all sentient beings safety and happiness on a regular basis. (I later made peace with the fact that I’m part of a natural food chain/ecosystem and returned to eating meat on occasion. What remained, however, was mindfulness about how animals are treated before becoming part of our diets.)

I recommend the Metta Prayer for all the reasons Siddhartha mentioned, and those I’ve discovered as a result of my own practice. It really is a wonderful way of transforming your intentions toward the wider world, and cultivating deep affection in your relationships with those you love.

All the best,

William K Ferro

Filed Under: Meditation Tagged With: , ,

Cobra in the Grass…

Oct27


…and Other Yogic Joys!

I love the Cobra asana! I’m a writer who spends about ten to 12 hours a day in front of a computer screen; as a result, I get some monumentally stiff necks, sore backs, and headaches. I find Cobra to be one of the most liberating poses…and on the rare occasions that I get to do it outdoors (on the grass, as in the picture above), it’s even better. I feel my midsection getting in touch with the earth with while I try to touch my head to my feet.

Have you ever tried going through your favorite series of asanas while repeating your mantra? That’s another beautiful combination, and it helps you to keep your focus on your breath.

Speaking of focusing on the breath, on to other yogic joys of the meditative kind.

After I’ve completed my sequence of asanas (details on that in my next post), I begin my meditation period, ideally for at least twenty minutes. In my last post, I described the pre- and post-meditation ritual I follow when I’m able to meditate in my sacred space. Now, please allow me to share the details of my favorite English-language mantra, one that I created for my own use based on the mindfulness teachings of Thich Nhat Hanh. Actually, it’s a gatha, a short poem composed for use during sitting or walking meditation. Maybe you’ll find it applicable to your own practice.

Breathing in, my body settles;
Breathing out, my mind.
Solid, free, and lucid,
With the Infinite I dwell.

I’ve been using this for so long now; it takes no effort at all to keep it going for twenty minutes. It’s relatively long, though, and it may take some time for your mind to keep from wandering away from it at first (such was definitely the case with me!). As always in meditation, don’t allow this to throw you, and don’t try to force your attention back to the gatha. Instead, simply observe the wandering of your mind without judgment, and calmly redirect your attention.

In the first line, I’m acknowledging the need for my body to “settle.” It’s been pulled in a hundred different directions since I last meditated; now it’s time to rein it in and gather it to one place, my personal center.

On my out-breath, I acknowledge the same about my mind. Of course there’s no actual division between my body and mind; they are one substance. But my mental processes have likewise been pulled all over the place and scattered for awhile. This is an opportunity to bring those processes back to my center along with my physical body.

On the next in-breath, I focus on the fact that I am solid, like the trunk of a tree, or a great mountain. My thoughts and emotions cannot be easily scattered, as the uppermost  leaves of a tree are buffeted by the wind. I am also free to be myself without restrictions. Finally, I am lucid; like still water, I reflect things clearly.

On the final out-breath, I say “With the Infinite I dwell.” This is a reminder to myself of my essential connection with the Infinite, the Divine, or the Source. It is the source of light that we honor when we say “Namaste” (“The Light in me recognizes the Light in you”).

Repeating this mantra (or, more properly, this gatha), everything I am declaring eventually becomes real for me. Some practitioners like to keep themselves sitting up straight throughout their sitting meditation; I prefer to allow my body to do what it chooses to do. If I find myself gradually bending over, I go with it. If my body becomes so relaxed that it actually winds up in a lying-down position, I allow that to happen. (If you try this, I recommend that you set a very quiet, bell-tone alarm clock. If you keep meditating while lying down, there’s a strong tendency to fall asleep.)

Frequently what happens is that my head droops further and further, and my whole body gradually falls forward. When that happens naturally, it’s an excellent, organic opportunity to practice the ritual that Buddhist practitioners call “Toughing the Earth.” Your head is in contact with your mat; you then allow your hands to follow suit and you are in the ideal position to pour all your inner toxins into the earth. Gaia is vast and strong; she can absorb whatever poisons you may have accumulated and transform them into precious things. Greed becomes generosity, hatred becomes love; ignorance becomes enlightenment. Frequently when this happens, it’s a result of my having left those poisonous things unattended within my body/mind; it is wise enough to take advantage of the opportunity to be rid of them. Don’t worry about Gaia’s ability to absorb and transform. You’ll feel the glorious opposites of your inner toxins flowing into your body/mind as you release them in this posture. There have been times when I found my cheeks wet with tears by the time I finished; it’s a deeply cathartic, cleansing experience!

Best regards,
William K Ferro

 

Filed Under: Meditation Tagged With: , , ,

Mediocrity in Meditating

Sep29

Photo Credit- Jessica Dozois of Girls With Film

Hello to all yogaflavoredlife.com readers! My name is Kelly Thompson, a freelance writer/editor/yoga lover.  It is a pleasure to “meet” all of you and I’m really excited to be writing for this blog where we’ll delve into meditation, total wellness and all things yoga!

I have practiced yoga for over a decade, which is saying a lot for my young twenty-seven year-old self. I have always found peace in each pose and solidarity in each breath. And in fact, I’d even say I’ve become pretty good at it. I can bend and stretch with the rest of them, despite a nasty knee injury. But here’s a little secret about me: my hours spent practicing yoga are the only hours of my life in which I feel any semblance of calm. The rest of my existence is spent in a constant state of anxiety and stress. Essentially, I need to take the techniques that I learn in yoga and apply them to the rest of my life. I need to meditate.

The problem is, I believed that some people are incapable of meditation, and that I am one of those people. We often hear, “My brain is never silent!” or, “But I can’t stop thinking about my To-Do list!”. Oh, fellow practitioners who are mediocre at meditating, I can relate. My mind runs at full speed, 24/7. When I try to go to sleep, my mind whirs with a complicated array of thoughts that grip me like a choke hold and refuse to let me drift peacefully into sleep. It’s so bad that I now keep a pen and paper by my bed so that I can put my anxieties on paper and get it all out of my system. Only then can I fall asleep and turn my brain over to a bout of fitful dreams.

To make things even more complicated, recently, I’ve been diagnosed with Grave’s Disease, an autoimmune disorder that attacks the thyroid, and on Monday, I’m having my thyroid radiated with radioactive iodine. (For more information on Grave’s Disease, please check out this link to the thyroid foundation of Canada.) Grave’s is also known to heighten any feelings of stress, since patients often experience a feeling of constantly being “on the go”. So because of all this, I find that my mind is rapidly carrying away with me and creating scenarios that might not actually come to fruition, especially before some major medical intervention. What if something goes wrong? What if I end up feeling more rotten after treatment than I did before? What if, what if, what if?! Haven’t we all played this mental game at some point or another in our lives, when we allow our anxiety to get the better of us? The What Ifs can quickly control our lives.

My symptoms led me to discuss my mental health with my doctor, an endocrinologist and quite possibly the most compassionate and kind human being in existence. He said, “Kelly, my prescription is you need to chill out. Look into meditation.” He’s right. I need to calm my mind for both my mental and physical health.

After lots of determined research on Google and Amazon.ca, I thought my first step would be to read a book on my new obsession. The book I picked as being worthy of my attention is The Best Guide to Meditation by Victor N. Davich. When it arrived, I held it before me like some sort of religious text that would solve all my problems and answer all my questions. Unfortunately, this can never really be the case.

I should say, that the book is great. What makes it so fantastic is that it isn’t only accessible to newcomers to meditation like myself, but rather, the book goes into the deeper meaning of calming your mind, the origination of the practice itself, and holistic approaches to health that go beyond medications. It also simplifies things for the laymen but offers a more focused approach for those more learned and experienced. All in all, I felt I learned a lot when I read the final word on the last page.

So all filled with new-found information, I sat on the floor, relaxed my pose, and felt myself slip into peaceful relaxation. Or at least, that’s what I thought would happen. It didn’t really. My mind was concerned with what was happening around me. When am I supposed to start cooking dinner? Man, these pants are feeling kinda tight in the mid-section! What time is it? Oh dear, here we go again. The old Kelly rears her ugly head. Not the most successful meditating session. I was allowing myself to stress over the fact that I couldn’t relax! All in all, it was little more than counter productive.

But when I really took a few minutes to calm myself, focus on my breath and the teachings I’ve received in years of yoga classes, I realized that we all have our own path to meditation and finding balance. Mine might be a little more muddled than others. But in finding patience and permission to allow myself the time for my body, and this pesky brain of mine, to calm themselves, I will eventually find the peace I am looking for.

Rome wasn’t built in a day, was it? Neither will the perfection of my meditation practice. In fact, it will never be perfect. Then again, nothing worth having ever is.

All the best to all all readers on your own meditating paths. Just remember to give your brain all the time it needs. Dinner can wait.

Kelly

Filed Under: Meditation, Yoga Tips Tagged With: , ,
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