Clearing the Mind

Wherever I go, wherever I am, here it is, the hindrance of anxiety. The discomfort has been enough to make me want to figure out what to do with it. I have remembered Mingyur Rinpoche's teaching about turning the panic into the object of one's meditation. In between breaths, seeing the beast, and letting myself feel its whole effect on body, heart, and mind. Becoming further convinced of its invasive nature. I know I am holding the tiger by its tail, and I take heart. Sitting some more, I find two other hindrances trailing not far behind. Anger seems to be the source of the restlessness, and underneath the anger, desire for some guarantee of pleasantness. Hindrances often come in a pack . . .

Hindrances are part of the ordinary human experience. Our freedom lies in our ability to recognize them for what they really are, as opposed to falling prey to their deceiving ways. The mindfulness tradition provides us with a method for removing the hindrances:

1) Have a sense that the hindrance is an unbeneficial state of mind, e.g, I need not worry if there is nothing I can objectively do about the object of the worry. 

2) Separate the object of the hindrance from the hindrance itself, e.g, the problem is not the object of my worry, but the worrying itself. 

3) Let go of the negative thoughts that accompany the hindrance.  

To remove hindering thoughts, we are to follow the following sequence - from The Removal of Distracting Thoughts: 

1) Change the object of our thoughts to one that is skillful. Loving kindness is one such practice. We orient the mind and heart towards love. 

2) If still hindering thoughts, contemplate the drawbacks of those thoughts, particularly their effect in terms of stress on our body and mind. 

3) If still hindering thoughts, shift to ignoring the thoughts.

4) If still hindering thoughts, relax the fabrication of those thoughts. 

5) If still hindering thoughts, say a firm no to the thoughts. 

When feeling anger toward a person, we learn to subdue our anger, by practicing one of those five ways - from Subduing Hatred: 

1) Develop good will for the other person

2) Develop compassion for the other person

3) Develop equanimity toward the other person

4) Pay no attention to the person

5) Contemplate fact that the person is the in-heritant of his own karma

Other instructions aim at the same thing, namely to focus on the good qualities of the other person, and to realize our lack of control over another person's actions. 

In the end, letting go of the hindrances is the result of clearly seeing their detrimental impact on our own mental health, and of using skillful strategies to remove the disturbing thoughts at the root of the hindrances. 

The Way I Was Born

It's there, almost always. And I especially notice whenever I am sitting still.

'It' is an habitual state of fear that keeps on sticking and causing much unpleasantness. I used to think, if only I practiced long enough, maybe it would go away, for good. After all, Mingyur Rinpoche rid himself of a crippling panic disorder after three years going away on a retreat . . . 

More and more, I am inclined to give up that fantasy. Rather, I have come to see 'it' as part of the deal, a genetically inherited condition of semi-permanent anxiety, wired into me from birth and amply nurtured by a mother also dealt a similar card. My daughter, upon whom I can always count to tell me the truth, said to me the other day, "You are one of the most anxious persons I know!" She is right.

I remember an interview with Sylvia Boorstein last year on NPR:

I had reasons to be anxious as a child. My mother did have what they called in those days a weak heart. She'd had rheumatic fever as a child and she had, as a consequence, she lived with a chronic coronary insufficiency and I worried about that. She actually died when I was in my very early 20s, so I've passed more than 50 years now without a mother. I wish I'd had one longer, but when I was a child, I worried about it a lot. But you know what I've found, Krista? There are people who are given to fretting without a fretful environment. I think it's actually — it's a — it's a genetic glitch of neurology and that it happens to some people and not for other people.

Actually, the Buddha said we have one of five genetic fallback glitches when we're challenged. He said some people fret, some people get angry, some people lose heart and all their energy goes and they don't know what to do with themselves, some people think, "Uh-oh, it's me. I didn't do things right. It's always my fault. I messed things up." And some people need to be sensually soothed. They think, "Where's a donut shop? Where's the pizza?" People have different tendencies. It was very, very helpful for me as an adult to learn that because it completely comes without a judgment. I don't have to say I am a chronic fretter. I could say, you know, when I'm challenged, fretting arises in my mind and it's not a moral flaw. It's very good for people who have a short fuse to be able to think, "You know, I have this unusual neurological glitch."

I tell it to people that my glitch is that "when in doubt, worry." It came with the equipment. I'm also short and I have brown eyes. If I could see that in the same neutral, it just came with the equipment, then I don't have to feel bad about it, but I can work with it wisely. That's really the important part, when we see as adults what it is that our fallback glitch is. You can say, "Uh-oh." And I think, in a certain way, that's a sign of wisdom when a person begins to be able to delineate this is what happens to me under tension.

As a piece of self-knowledge that makes a break in between a certain next step and that next step and say, "Whoa." So when I'm in an airport, for instance, or if I come to a place where I've agreed to meet my husband on a corner of a certain street at 5:00 and I come there at 5:00 and he's not there and it's five past five and he's not there, I could start to think maybe this, maybe that, maybe this, maybe that.

But I think to myself, wait a minute. That is just my peculiar neurological glitch kicking in. Probably not, you know, I could just wait here quietly. I could look in the windows. I could look at the people. I could say relaxing phrases to my own mind. I could wish well to the passersby. There are just lots of other things I can do.

Sylvia and I, and million others . . .

No Need For Panic

Sitting this morning, I found a succession of short, shallow breaths. The underline panic I have been feeling lately is still there, threatening to take over if I am not careful. 

Thirty years ago, standing on the sidewalk right by the Chicago L station, I encountered such breath, and not knowing, I gave in. Pretty soon, it felt as if I could no longer breathe. I was having a heart attack I thought and I called my doctor. He had me count until one hundred, without much success. The iron corset got even tighter, and I ended up in the ER. I got hooked up on the EKG machine. My heart was perfectly fine. I had just had a panic attack. 

Since that day, I have had a predisposition to panic. And I have learned ways to be with it. For a long time, I relied on the combined power of positive self-talk, belly breathing, and distraction. It worked. Somewhat.

What has really helped has been mindfulness practice, and particularly a deeper understanding of the role of one's attitude towards the panic itself. 

The Buddha himself has been my greatest teacher in that respect:

"Breathing in long he knows ‘I am breathing in long.’ 

Breathing in short he knows ‘I am breathing in short.’  

Breathing out long he knows ‘I am breathing out long.’ 

Breathing out short he knows ‘I am breathing in short.’ 

He trains himself ‘breathing in, I experience the whole body.’ 

‘breathing out, I experience the whole body.’ 

He trains himself, ‘breathing in, I calm the bodily formation.’ 

‘breathing out, I calm the bodily formation.’" 

~ Anapanasati Sutta ~

Breathing in short, I know 'I am breathing in short' . . . Breathing out short, I know 'I am breathing out short' . . . Breathing in, I experience the tightness around the chest . . . Breathing out, I experience the tightness around the chest . . . Breathing in, I make room for shallow breath, and tightness, and the possibility of maybe relaxing a bit . . . Breathing out, I continue to make room for the whole experience . . . I also include a more neutral experience in the body, such as the sensations in my hands or feet, giving mind a break from the breath. Then returning again to the breath . . . Breathing in short, I know 'I am breathing in short' . . . 

From this acceptance, the tight corset starts relaxing, giving breath more space to fill in the lungs, and mind a chance to calm down.

Such a subtle, and important shift.

Not panicking about the panic!

The Hazards of Unguarded Mind

She's been my teacher for the last week. 

Being with Betty has been a dramatic lesson in the perils of mind, when it has been unguarded for too long.  Betty's got an anxiety disorder so severe that she can no longer function. Her throat closes up and  she feels as if she is going to choke. Her legs go numb, and she is overtaken by weakness. Her mind fills up with thoughts of death and she begs to be shot. Her heart vacillates between terror and occasional bursts of anger. She cannot be left alone. Only drugs, and the continuous company of doctors and nurses bring her a tiny bit or relief. 

Layers after layers of accumulated mindlessness, exposed and wrapped up in pathology.

Slumped over in the couch, her hands entrusted in mine, she begs me to please relieve her from her misery. She wants to know that I care, and that I believe in the reality of her suffering. That I can do. When she tells me she is going to die, I see deluded mind in action. And I tell her. It may feel as if you are going to die, because your breath's gotten shallow, and your mind is visited by terrible thoughts. I suggest, instead of saying 'I am going to die', tell yourself 'It feels as if I am going to die, but I know better, I am not. I am still breathing, and talking.' Also, give your mind a bit of rest, and practice new thoughts. 'May I be at peace, may I be at ease. May I be at peace, may I be at ease.' Relaxing the mind.

There is work to do also with the body. Tightness all over needs to be dealt with. First, recognizing it, which is no problem for Betty. Where she goes wrong is in what she does with her perception and awareness. Not seeing the tensing against the primary tension, and how it contributes to her feeling more and more out of control. Being aware of the whole experience: the body's long held habit of reacting with tension, overlaid with great dislike and fear about that experience, then leading to more tension, ending in a knot so tight that air, and blood can barely pass through. 'Don't talk to me about deep breathing anymore. It does not work, only makes me worse.' Somewhere, Betty has learned that breath is to be used for her condition. The fact that she has been taught wrong has turned breath into a new enemy. Figuring we have enough to deal with, I decide to leave that one aside, for now at least . . . and to use the body instead. Focusing on the hands, and the sensations there. 'I feel cold and warm.' In that moment, Betty's mind is no longer focused on the tightness. Giving the mind a rest, purifying it. 

"Give me a shot, now!" In this moment, Betty believes only drugs can relieve her from her suffering. Another delusion to be addressed. Using mind against mind, and the power of memory to remember the extra suffering by the use of drugs when they wear out. And reintroducing the knowledge that working with her thoughts is as powerful and without the side effects. "You are forgetting the power of your mind. There is a lot you can do with your thoughts, and how you choose to deal with the panic." She nods. I take it as a small victory. 

"What did you use to enjoy before the panic came?" "I like music, classical music." Getting the mind out of its rut. One wholesome thought, one wholesome action at a time . . . She is open to listening to a Mozart CD.

There is the panic, and what led to it in the first place. Digging down deeper, and accessing the anger beneath. Lots of it. Another hindrance that's been marching for years into Betty's life. Meeting with her relatives, Betty's voice grows loud and she tells them how she feels. Betty's got a lot of work to do. She needs to see a therapist. 

Betty did not know. She let her house get so dirty over the years, that she can no longer live in it. Now is the time for heavy cleanup crew, and she has to roll up her sleeves. 

No need to wait that long. The fresher the grime, the easier to remove. Betty is calling me (us) to the tedious work of ongoing mindfulness. 

Being a Mother

The reality did not hit until earlier tonight. She is driving cross-country, by herself. And she is trying to make it in record time. And she is trying to save money and was talking about sleeping in her car at night. To appease us, she made a reservation at Hostel 66. For how many nights, I am not sure. 

Late afternoon she was in Arizona, aiming for Albuquerque. 

Sitting still, I watch the mind go nuts, and the throat tighten, and the stomach clinch, and fear spread through my whole body. And all my accumulated wisdom about the value of being in this moment, and of not giving into useless anxiety becomes of little use.

This is what being a mother does.

Staying Calm With the Panic

Anxiety has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. It comes and goes, and just when I think I am done with it, here it is again. "Elle a un temperament anxieux"*, my mother used to say. The anxiety  tends to strike most while I am driving on the freeway. Mini-panic attacks that seem to come out of the blue, and that I have learned to survive by focusing on the breath, and the touch points between hands and steering wheel, and feet against floor. And when that fails, I distract myself, by giving the mind something to do, like switching stations on the radio player. That usually does the trick. 

Quite humbling!

From Mingyur Rinpoche, I have learned this about panic:

Tonight, sitting at my desk, writing this post, I can feel the anxiety rising again. There are no concurrent thoughts to disassemble with cognitive therapy techniques. Only buzzing energy to be aware of and befriend. 

Meditating on the panic . . . 

*She's got an anxious temperament.

Beyond the Inner Prison

Something had to be done. I could no longer bear the anxiety inside. I did what I usually do in such situation: a collage. 

The images jumped at me, quick. A men's prison, an anxious looking woman, her black purse thrown over her shoulder, some blue sky, and a bird. Cut away, the glass windows in the ceiling of the prison. Sky now visible, and one bird. Woman looking up towards the sky. Above and behind her, a tough looking man looking down in her direction.

A perfect image for how I felt, trapped inside some high security prison with no chance of escaping. I taped it on the wall above my desk, next to the big Buddha. 

Inner Prison

Looking at the picture, I started to 'see' another much larger reality. That of blue sky, unlimited, with the bird flying, free.  I felt a shift inside. Becoming like the sky, with breath flowing in and out, no longer hindered. Fear melting, and replaced by a deep calmness that could not be touched by outer ripples. No longer wishing for, or away. Just being breathed.

What is your inner prison? How can you become free?

The Truth of Not Knowing

Sitting this morning, I watched as various ideas of self came and went. The dutiful wife, the good meditator, the competent therapist, the concerned mother, the smart presenter, the unsure woman, the insightful blogger, . . . all taking turn to interrupt  sweet flow of breath, and simple hearing of bird sounds. 

Then, fear. Into the heart, down the arms, in the guts, down the legs, in the throat. I remembered Mingyur Rinpoche's talk on panic:

Relaxing the body, and being friend with fear. Fear receding. 

Then, irritation . . . and awareness of the irritation about the irritation. Irritation relaxing a bit, making room for an edge of sadness. Mind's urge to want to know, explain away, interpret. Frustration of no answer.

Sitting with discomfort of stinging heaviness, and not knowing.

Sitting . . .  

The Lightness of Not Self

Disentangling From the Self's Trappings: Looking at False Humility, Conceit, Shyness, and Fear.

I very much enjoyed Gil Fronsdal's talk this week, about humility, part of his series on self and not self.

Here are my notes:

There are many aspects to humility. 

Humility is not the same as false humility. Some people are upset towards themselves because they have such a low opinion of themselves. This can get reinforced by negative comments from others. 

We don't try to be humble. Instead we try to understand all the ways in which we are conceited or arrogant. And we look at what happens when we let go of arrogance, and the painful feeling of contraction of self. 

Being humble is no longer comparing oneself to anybody.

Being conceited about being less than others is also another form of conceit.

Shyness is a form of conceit. We are getting caught in concern with our self-image, and sense of self. We can work through it by being very mindful so that we don't get pushed around by our shyness, or any other sense of self. We look at it very clearly. The minute we start looking at it, we cease to be it. Who are you? If we are looking at the looker, there is no one left. As we keep looking, in steady and clear fashion, it no longer makes sense to be weighed down by sense of self. All is left is just being. The Buddha refers to himself in very unsubstantial ways. "I am such". "The One who has come thus." A beautiful thing in meditation is to be present, without association to any concept.

Another way is to understand our limitation as a human being. Being mortal, means we are going to die. We doing a great disservice to oneself when we are very successful and capable. Ideas of self we have are magnets for attachments, fear, greed, and hate. This does not mean that we are not important, only that we should not take ourselves as so important. 

You cannot make yourself humble, but you can make yourself honest. 'Humility occurs when love of truth is greater than love of self.'

A great source of inspiration is seeing humility in others.

I resonate with the idea of making oneself honest, not humble. That I can work on, and I do. 

There is also another aspect on conceit, related to Gil's point on shyness, and that I struggle with often. Suffering from an anxious temperament, I have observed many times, the tie between anxious states, and an excessive preoccupation with the self. These are the moments when I experience the inflated idea I have of myself as a huge burden to be rid of. Wise mind steps in, and gets impatient, and wants to get down to the task at hand. 'Get out of the way, self!' Of course, this is not so easy to do, as the self-made idea of the self tends to be rather sticky. One practice that has been helpful is to direct my attention to other people. For instance, when presenting, I will look at people in the room, and take in their energy. The question then no longer becomes, 'How well am I doing?', but rather, 'What do these people need?'

What are some of the ways that you disentangle yourself from yourself? 

PS - Gil's entire talk is available on Audiodharma, under 'Self and Not-Self', 2010-09-13

If Buddha Was a Woman

The Challenge of Detaching, From a Feminine Perspective.

Daughter number two left this morning early. I heard the sound of her suitcase being wheeled out on the concrete driveway. She was driving to meet up with her sister three hours away. The two of them are embarking on a cross-country adventure, ending at my oldest daughter's new school in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. 

Lying in bed, I noticed the time, 5.53 am. There was no point in trying to go back to sleep. Better instead, watch the body do its thing. Jaws clenching, stomach tying itself in a knot, heart pinched, arms becoming heavy, throat tightening. And thoughts to match, of all the things that could possibly go wrong during their upcoming trip. With the short-lived relief of being with a few breaths, here and there. 

I am a chronic worrier, just like my mother was before Alzheimer's did its job. Of the five hindrances, anxiety is my biggest enemy, and one I need to keep on investigating. Lying with it for two hours this morning, I was gifted with a few insights about the beast:

• One major culprit is mind's tendency to make up stories about future.
• Mind's wanderings is fueled by fear of grief and permanent loss.
• Mind deludes itself into thinking that it can use thoughts to control outcomes.
• Beneath rejection of impermanence, is clinging to foolish wish for a fixed state.
• When I go back to breath and present moment, anxiety lessens.
• If I am fully present with sadness and grief from actual situation, mind is less likely to wander.
• Just observing anxious state of mind is sufficient enough to bring some significant relief.
• Holding fear as mother would a scared child, is rather sweet.

The Buddha has his own take on the subject:

"What do you think, monks: is corporeality permanent or impermanent?" — "Impermanent, Lord." — "And what is impermanent, is it painful or pleasant?" — "Painful, Lord." — "What is impermanent, painful, subject to change, is it fit to be considered thus: 'This is mine, this I am, this is my self'?" — "Certainly not, Lord." — "What do you think, monks: Is feeling... is perception... are mental formations... is consciousness... permanent or impermanent?" — "Impermanent, Lord." — "And what is impermanent, is it painful or pleasant?" — "Painful, Lord." — "And what is impermanent, painful, subject to change, is it fit to be considered thus: 'This is mine, this I am, this is my self?" — "Certainly not, Lord."

"Therefore, monks, whatever corporeality, whether past, future, or present, in oneself or external, gross or subtle, inferior or superior, far or near — all corporeality should with right wisdom, thus be seen as it is: 'This is not mine, this I am not, this is not my self.'

"Whatever feeling... whatever perception... whatever mental formations... whatever consciousness, whether past, future or present, in oneself or external, gross or subtle, inferior or superior, far or near — all... consciousness should, with right wisdom, thus be seen as it is: 'This is not mine, this I am not, this is not my self.'

"Seeing this, monks, the well-instructed noble disciple becomes disgusted with corporeality, becomes disgusted with feeling, with perception, with mental formations, with consciousness.

"Through his being disgusted, his passion fades away. His passion having faded, he is freed. 

~ Discourse on the Snake Simile: Alagaddupama Sutta (MN22) ~ 

The Buddha is very pragmatic. Why get attached to something that cannot be relied upon? I understand his point, intellectually at least.

I also think women have it a little harder than men. Women as bearers of the mother archetype are inherently set up for strong attachments, particularly to their children. This makes the job of detaching particularly challenging. I wonder if the Buddha's discourse would have been different, had he been a woman?

There is some wisdom in anxiety, after all.

How about you? What is your experience of being with anxiety? What have you learned?

An Excellent Moment

So many unnecessary heart afflictions, I encounter, because of wandering mind. Either dwelling on the past, wishing I had taken different course of action, or projecting into the future, dreading some imagined outcome. The Buddha is clear on that one:

Let not a person revive the past
Or on the future build his hopes;
For the past has been left behind
And the future has not been reached.
Instead with insight let him see
Each presently arisen state;
Let him know that and be sure of it,
Invincibly, unshakably.
Today the effort must be made;
Tomorrow Death may come, who knows?
No bargain with Mortality
Can keep him and his hordes away,
but one who dwells thus ardently,
Relentlessly, by day, by night - 
It is he, the Peaceful Sage has said,
Who has had a single excellent night.


- from Bhaddekaratta Sutta: A Single Excellent Night -

Taming wandering mind, and bringing it back, over and over again, to the present moment. Using the breath, and the power of mindfulness, and concentration, as anchors. All with great patience, and kindness.

Down The Anxiety List

Lately, I have been feeling extremely restless, and for good reasons. True to its 'full catastrophe' nature, life has been handing me a few rotten cards, stressors that I wish would go away, and seem to worsen instead. The usual tricks of calmness, concentration, equanimity, meditation, deep breathing, exercise,  and self-talk, have only helped with staying calm on the surface. Inside, the agitation, and the free-floating fear, have continued, unabated. In my search for a better way, I remembered an exercise, that Gil shared during his last year's day-long on The Five Hindrances: Restlessness, (4/3/09 talk series in AudioDharma library). It goes like this:

Take a piece of paper and pen, and in a calm, loving, accepting, meditative space, write down a list of things which are unresolved for you. Then, looking at the whole list, answer the following questions: Which of them come up during meditation? Are they in background, foreground? Which of them are best resolved through inner personal work? Which of them are better resolved by talking to someone in the world Which of them require you doing both? What does list say about you? What might be inner work you are called to do, to address list of unresolved issues?  How is it that meditation practice can be helpful for addressing items on list?

Quickly, I came up with a list of five items, that are causing me great grief. And wrote down, next to each, the thoughts and feelings attached to each one. Lots of emotions there: fear, aversion, powerlessness, greed, doubt, sadness, tiredness, guilt, frustration, anger . . . Each issue with its own set. In all cases, I realized there is little I can do to influence the outcome, and it is clear the only work to be done is around graceful acceptance of what cannot be changed on the outside, and about skillfully dealing with unhelpful mind states inside. Replacing each unwholesome thought with its wholesome counterpart. And overcoming Mara's soldiers of confusion, greed, anger, fear, and doubt, with great clarity, letting go, love, calm, and wisdom.

Now, I know what to do. And I feel greatly relieved. 

I realize once more the crossovers between traditional Buddhist mindfulness practice, and healing approaches from contemporary psychology. This exercise is very close to CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy) exercise of Dysfunctional Thought Record, that I used while working as a therapist with psychiatric patients, many years ago. The integration between the two disciplines is even more complete now, with new fields of MBCT (mindfulness based cognitive therapy) and MBSR (mindfulness based stress reduction). 

I would love to hear from you on this topic, particularly after you have done this exercise.

Sitting On the Egg

This morning I woke up with heart racing from anxiety about upcoming India trip. Mind still fresh from day long with Gil, and his talk on 5 Hindrances, I knew better than to give into restless mind. And so I sat, like the mother hen in U Pandita's story below:

The Buddha gave a rather homely example which illustrates just how the results of meditation are attained. If mother hen lays an egg with a sincere wish for it to hatch, but then runs off and leaves the egg exposed to nature’s elements, the egg will soon rot. If, on the other hand, mother hen is conscientious in her duties toward the egg, sitting on it for long periods every day, the warmth of her body will keep the egg from rotting and will also permit the chick within to grow. Sitting on the egg is mother hen’s most important duty. She must do this in the proper way, with her wings slightly spread out to protect the nest from rain. She must also take care not to sit heavily and crack her egg. If she sits in proper style and for sufficient time, the egg will naturally receive the warmth it needs to hatch.

Inside the shell, an embryo develops beak and claws. Day by day the shell grows thinner. During mother hen’s brief excursions from the nest, the chick inside may see a light that slowly brightens. After three weeks or so, a healthy yellow chick pecks its way out of its claustrophobic space. This result happens regardless of whether the hen foresaw the outcome. All she did was sit on the egg with sufficient regularity.

. . . I hope you will take this analogy of mother hen into deep consideration. just as she hatches her chicks without hopes or desire, merely carrying out her duties in a conscientious way, so may you well incubate and hatch your practice.

May you not become a rotten egg.

Yes.

Settling Anxiety With Just Sitting

Anxious. I felt the frazzling vibes of the big A, all day. Loved one was leaving, and my heart was protesting. Back from the airport, I headed to my chair, set the timer, and readied for 45' of quiet. Sittings have become a wonderful refuge, a place in time when I can be present to myself.

Heart calling at once. Love's filling me. The big A's receding. Tears, rolling down, so soft, I don't even notice them at first. Image of loved one, and warm thoughts her way. That she be happy, and safe, and well, and at peace. Breath in, and out, in, and out . . . Hardly any thoughts. Sleepiness taking over, slowly. Mind won't let it. Not time for a nap, at least not yet. Using breath to stay awake and aware. Anxiety sapped my energy, and now my body's demanding some rest.

On Sunday, Gil described anxiety as a wasteful state, to be dispensed of. I agree with him. The big A's insidious, and tends to creep in, particularly during emotional charged moments. If I still had any doubts, today's sitting proved the importance of giving the agitated mind time to settle. A few minutes, is all it took.