Showing posts with label body. Show all posts
Showing posts with label body. Show all posts

Saturday, August 3, 2013

5 Forgotten Mindfulness Practices With the Body

The body scan as currently taught, is not a part of the traditional teachings. Yet, it has now become the practice of choice for mindfulness of the body. This has gotten me curious. In this post, I would like to review the various mindfulness of the body practices as explained in Mindfulness Immersed in the Body. Here they are, along with my commentaries:

1. First is awareness of breath, body sensations, and tensions in the body:

[He] sits down folding his legs crosswise, holding his body erect and setting mindfulness to the fore. Always mindful, he breathes in; mindful he breathes out. "Breathing in long, he discerns, 'I am breathing in long'; or breathing out long, he discerns, 'I am breathing out long.' Or breathing in short, he discerns, 'I am breathing in short'; or breathing out short, he discerns, 'I am breathing out short.' He trains himself, 'I will breathe in sensitive to the entire body.' He trains himself, 'I will breathe out sensitive to the entire body.' He trains himself, 'I will breathe in calming bodily fabrication.' He trains himself, 'I will breathe out calming bodily fabrication.' 

Currently, the awareness of breath practice is most often split from the awareness of sensations in the body as taught in the body scan. Also, many teachers stay clear from any active involvement with areas of tightness in the body. We are told to mostly notice the 'bodily fabrication', and not do anything about it. Here, according to the traditional teachings, the meditator is to use the breath to 'calm' bodily fabrications. I find this more aligned with my experience of the body. Sitting, paying attention to the breath, the attention gets drawn to some discomfort, or pain in a part of the body. I do not fight the distraction, but instead choose to be with it, giving it space to be within each in breath, and letting it dissolve as it may with each out breath. A reminder that mindfulness practice is very much an active practice. It is much more than just sitting . . . 

2. Second is mindfulness of physical activities:

When walking, [he] discerns, 'I am walking.' When standing, he discerns, 'I am standing.' When sitting, he discerns, 'I am sitting.' When lying down, he discerns, 'I am lying down.' Or however his body is disposed, that is how he discerns it. [...] When going forward & returning, he makes himself fully alert; when looking toward & looking away... when bending & extending his limbs... when carrying his [belongings]... when eating, drinking, chewing, & savoring... when urinating & defecating... when walking, standing, sitting, falling asleep, waking up, talking, & remaining silent, he makes himself fully alert. 

We are so conditioned to think of mindfulness practice as mostly sitting, or walking. We forget that opportunities for practice are with us at all times. Sitting now at my desk, I can become aware of fingers tapping the keys. Mindfulness is a 24/7 practice, minus the time we spend sleeping.

3. Third is awareness of the repulsiveness of the body:

[He] reflects on this very body from the soles of the feet on up, from the crown of the head on down, surrounded by skin and full of various kinds of unclean things: 'In this body there are head hairs, body hairs, nails, teeth, skin, flesh, tendons, bones, bone marrow, kidneys, heart, liver, pleura, spleen, lungs, large intestines, small intestines, gorge, feces, bile, phlegm, pus, blood, sweat, fat, tears, skin-oil, saliva, mucus, fluid in the joints, urine.' 

To which I will add the practice of witnessing the results of aging on the body, ours, and that of others. Working with sick, old, and dying folks, I get a chance to see what awaits most of us in the end, if we live long enough. The stench of human feces and urine, all mixed in, in the middle of the night  . . . Youthful beauty, disintegrated, and giving way to an ugly bag of bones. Faces, contorted from pain everywhere in the joints, the organs . . . Minds, gone and struggling to make sense of each moment. We all try so hard to disguise the repulsive nature of our body and the fact that we are walking, defecating machines. 

4. Fourth is awareness of the 4 elements in the body:

[He] contemplates this very body — however it stands, however it is disposed — in terms of properties: 'In this body there is the earth property, the liquid property, the fire property, & the wind property.' 

Standing, I feel the solidity of my feet against the ground beneath. Once mind steps aside, there is only earth element. Taking a shower, I sense the water running down my body, and within, inside the mouth, the viscosity of saliva. Outside, inside, same fluidity. Sick with a fever, I feel fire within. Out and about, the sun warms the outside of my skin. Spinning at the gym, I feel the air from the fan, caressing my face. Meanwhile, the breath comes and goes, inside the nostrils, the chest, the belly. Air all around. The body, our body is not separate from the environment, but instead a different configuration of the four elements. 

5. Fifth is contemplation on the fate of the human body:

As if he were to see a corpse cast away in a charnel ground — one day, two days, three days dead — bloated, livid, & festering, he applies it to this very body, 'This body, too: Such is its nature, such is its future, such its unavoidable fate'...

Yes. Today's charnel grounds are to be found in hospices and nursing homes. Tending the dying, we get to see what happens to the body after death. We may want to beautify corpses, and make them look as if life had not left. That is missing out on the opportunity to contemplate the profound truth of impermanence as it relates to the body. 

Which of these five practices do you feel most inclined to take on? 

Sunday, June 30, 2013

Things I Remember During Mindfulness Practice

What helps me most when sitting every morning? Remembering some basic teachings from the Frames of Reference.

Here they are, translated in plain English:

[He] remains focused on the body in and of itself — ardent, alert, and mindful —

First starting with mindfulness of the body. First noticing the sensations in the feet, then moving up to the thighs resting on the chair, then becoming aware of the whole body sitting still.

putting aside greed and distress with reference to the world.

Setting aside ordinary preoccupations. Telling myself, now is not the time to plan or worry. Now is the time to practice mindfulness.

[He] sits holding his body erect and setting mindfulness to the forefront. Always mindful, he breathes in; mindful he breathes out.

Sitting up straight, turning the attention to the breath.

He trains himself, 'I will breathe in sensitive to the entire body.' He trains himself, 'I will breathe out sensitive to the entire body.'

With each breath in and out, sensing the whole body.

He trains himself, 'I will breathe in calming bodily fabrication.' He trains himself, 'I will breathe out calming bodily fabrication.'

In the process, noticing any tightness in the body, and relaxing the tension

When feeling a painful feeling, [he] discerns, 'I am feeling a painful feeling.' When feeling a pleasant feeling, he discerns, 'I am feeling a pleasant feeling.' When feeling a neither-painful-nor-pleasant feeling, he discerns, 'I am feeling a neither-painful-nor-pleasant feeling.'

Noticing the quality of the experience, whether pleasant, unpleasant, or neither.

[He] remains focused on the phenomenon of origination with regard to feelings, on the phenomenon of passing away with regard to feelings, or on the phenomenon of origination and passing away with regard to feelings.

Getting to see the constantly changing nature of the quality of the experience - pleasant one moment, then becoming unpleasant, etc . . . 

"When the mind has passion, he discerns that the mind has passion. When the mind is without passion, he discerns that the mind is without passion. When the mind has aversion, he discerns that the mind has aversion. When the mind is without aversion, he discerns that the mind is without aversion. 

Noticing either clinging or aversion. Do I like this, or do I dislike this?

"When the mind is constricted, he discerns that the mind is constricted. When the mind is scattered, he discerns that the mind is scattered [...] When the mind is concentrated, he discerns that the mind is concentrated. [...] When the mind is released, he discerns that the mind is released [...]

Noticing the quality of the mind itself. Tightness around thoughts? Scattered? Concentrated? Calm? whichever the quality, noticing.

[He] remains focused on the phenomenon of origination with regard to the mind, on the phenomenon of passing away with regard to the mind, or on the phenomenon of origination and passing away with regard to the mind.

Focusing on the nature of thought making process, not the thought themselves. Thoughts coming and going . . .

[He] remains focused on the five hindrances. [When] sensual desire is present within, [he] discerns that 'There is sensual desire present within me.' Or, there being no sensual desire present within, he discerns that 'There is no sensual desire present within me.' He discerns how there is the arising of unarisen sensual desire. And he discerns how there is the abandoning of sensual desire once it has arisen. And he discerns how there is no future arising of sensual desire that has been abandoned. (The same formula is repeated for the remaining hindrances: ill will, drowsiness, anxiety, and doubt.)

Recognizing each of the five hindrances: craving of pleasure, anger or hate, dullness, restlessness and anxiety, doubt about practice. Catching each one at whichever stage it may be in: just nascent or full blown. Hindrances can be strong but focusing on the nature of the hindrance itself, not its object, can help one let go of it. 

There is the case where he discerns, as it has come to be, that 'This is stress.' He discerns, as it has come to be, that 'This is the origination of stress.' He discerns, as it has come to be, that 'This is the cessation of stress.' He discerns, as it has come to be, that 'This is the way leading to the cessation of stress.' 

Seeing for oneself the connection between clinging and stress in both body and mind.

This is where I am at with my practice. This is what I understand. 

How about you? Which wisdom do you bring in each time you sit? 

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Word For Word

Every time I sit down for practice, I remember these specific words from the Maha-Satipatthana Sutta:

Focused on the body in and of itself

- ardent, alert, and mindful - 

putting aside greed and distress with reference to the world [. . .]

Having gone to an empty building, [he] sits down [. . .], 

holding his body erect 

and setting mindfulness to the fore. 

Always mindful, he breathes in; mindful he breathes out. 

"Breathing in long, he discerns, 'I am breathing in long'; or breathing out long, he discerns, 'I am breathing out long.' Or breathing in short, he discerns, 'I am breathing in short'; or breathing out short, he discerns, 'I am breathing out short.' 

He trains himself, 'I will breathe in sensitive to the entire body.' He trains himself, 'I will breathe out sensitive to the entire body.' 

He trains himself, 'I will breathe in calming bodily fabrication.' He trains himself, 'I will breathe out calming bodily fabrication.'

Each one of those points an essential instruction for sitting practice . . . No need to read long books, or listen to more teachings. One could spend a life time just practicing this. 

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Mindfulness-Based Physical Therapy, A Better Way to Wellness?

Thanks to pain in my left shoulder, I have had the good fortune to experience semiweekly physical therapy sessions. Another opportunity to observe the mind's natural tendency to turn away from unpleasantness. Doing the arm band exercises, there is only so much 'I' can take before fleeing into thoughts about anything but the present moment. Of course, such mindlessness results in the obvious outcome of a mediocre workout, and subpar results for distressed shoulder. More subtle, is the sadness of yet another stretch of time not fully lived. Time, obliterated, wished away, and with it a disconnection from myself. 

We are wired to resist unpleasantness, both the physical and mental kinds. And yet, life is but one string of unsatisfactory moments, some worse than others. Whether suffering from transient nature of good moment, or from just plain bad moment, the truth is, life sucks. And yet, we want to feel good, we would do anything to not feel pain, and to have pleasure instead. I am not even sure what's stronger, the avoidance of pain, or the pursuit of pleasure? Right there, in a nutshell, lies the human predicament. 

Back to physical therapy . . . I have been practicing bringing mindful attention to my exercise routine. Making room for feeling all the body sensations, slowing down enough to give the muscles and tendons exactly what they need, and using that daily chunk of time to practice concentration. Doing 3 sets of 30 for each of the 7 prescribed exercises is a perfect opportunity to steady the mind. I also find physical pain to be such a great teacher, showing me the ways of my mind, and also inviting other possibilities, not inviting reactivity, practicing equanimity. 

Mindfulness-based physical therapy, another venue to be explored for those in the field of physical therapy?

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

One Easy Stress Reduction Practice

Stress is not difficult to figure out. Right there in this body, is the indicator.

I have now taken up the practice of stopping often throughout the day, and ask this simple question: is there tightness in the body? If the answer is yes, as it most often is, then I know. My body is stressed, and so is the mind. 

Getting in touch with the exact place where it feels tight, I tell myself 'clinging', 'clinging at work'. Sometimes thoughts are present that clarify the source of the clinging, either wanting something I cannot have, or not wanting something I do have. Sometimes there are no conscious thoughts. Regardless, I know what to do. 

To observe the tightness/clinging, and the unpleasantness of it. Not getting lost in its object. No, rather feeling the whole pain, and giving the tight spot a chance to relax a bit with each breath, assuming the body is willing. And trusting that the noticing in and of itself is already a big step towards de-stressing the body, de-stressing the mind.

And of course, there is the added long-term benefit, of growing tired of the pain from all this repeated clinging . . . opening the door to disenchantment, renunciation, and freedom.

I just wonder. Is there anybody else that does that practice as well?

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Letting It Do Its Thing

Very much enjoyed spending the evening last night with Ayya Anandabodhi, at IMC. 

As usual, the nun had much wisdom to share. I especially resonated with this:

The body and karma have their own pace, that cannot always keep up with the mind. We need to just be with what is and give it time to do its thing. This (pointing to body) right there as it is, is our opportunity [to enter the path of awakening]. 

As much as I understand about clinging, how ludicrous the whole habit is, I am not completely in control of what the mind, and the heart, and the body do. Walking earlier, here it was, the anger, the tightness, the pain from clinging to what cannot be had. Walking, I meditated on Ayya Anandabodhi's words, and I held the hotness with much love, and patience. Giving it some space, and the time it needs. 

I also remembered this quote from Ram Dass: "If you think you're enlightened, go spend a week with your family." Being grateful for the crucible of family life to keep me honest with where I really am . . . 

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Two Darts, Or Just One?

On a long walk by myself yesterday, there were plenty of pleasures to be had. Temperature just right, enough sun to brighten the moment, flowers going nuts with colors, birds singing what sounded like happy notes . . . it would have been a perfect experience, except for the pain in my right shoulder.  I noticed the mind's habits with such unpleasantness. First tightening, and rebelling against such a spoiler, soon turning into full blown unpleasantness and hatred of the moment. Then, searching for a way out, hoping for pleasure to be found again, quick. From there, escaping into the world of thoughts, thinking about the future, work to be done, the pleasure of food awaiting at home . . . Anything but being in this moment. It worked. There was no more pain, only a vague dullness and the quasi-satisfaction of imagined pleasures. Nothing wrong with that, except for the subtle sadness of knowing that this was one more moment not fully lived, a delaying of the cultivation of real happiness. The hour turned into a reflection on The Dart sutta:
"When an untaught worldling is touched by a painful (bodily) feeling, he worries and grieves, he laments, beats his breast, weeps and is distraught. He thus experiences two kinds of feelings, a bodily and a mental feeling. It is as if a man were pierced by a dart and, following the first piercing, he is hit by a second dart [...]
"Having been touched by that painful feeling, he resists (and resents) it. Then in him who so resists (and resents) that painful feeling, an underlying tendency of resistance against that painful feeling comes to underlie (his mind). Under the impact of that painful feeling he then proceeds to enjoy sensual happiness. And why does he do so? An untaught worldling, O monks, does not know of any other escape from painful feelings except the enjoyment of sensual happiness. Then in him who enjoys sensual happiness, an underlying tendency to lust for pleasant feelings comes to underlie (his mind). He does not know, according to facts, the arising and ending of these feelings, nor the gratification, the danger and the escape, connected with these feelings. In him who lacks that knowledge, an underlying tendency to ignorance as to neutral feelings comes to underlie (his mind). When he experiences a pleasant feeling, a painful feeling or a neutral feeling, he feels it as one fettered by it. Such a one, O monks, is called an untaught worldling who is fettered by birth, by old age, by death, by sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief and despair. He is fettered by suffering, this I declare.
"But in the case of a well-taught noble disciple, O monks, when he is touched by a painful feeling, he will not worry nor grieve and lament, he will not beat his breast and weep, nor will he be distraught. It is one kind of feeling he experiences, a bodily one, but not a mental feeling. It is as if a man were pierced by a dart, but was not hit by a second dart following the first one [...]
"Having been touched by that painful feeling, he does not resist (and resent) it. Hence, in him no underlying tendency of resistance against that painful feeling comes to underlie (his mind). Under the impact of that painful feeling he does not proceed to enjoy sensual happiness. And why not? As a well-taught noble disciple he knows of an escape from painful feelings other than by enjoying sensual happiness. Then in him who does not proceed to enjoy sensual happiness, no underlying tendency to lust for pleasant feelings comes to underlie (his mind). He knows, according to facts, the arising and ending of those feelings, and the gratification, the danger and the escape connected with these feelings. In him who knows thus, no underlying tendency to ignorance as to neutral feelings comes to underlie (his mind). When he experiences a pleasant feeling, a painful feeling or a neutral feeling, he feels it as one who is not fettered by it. Such a one, O monks, is called a well-taught noble disciple who is not fettered by birth, by old age, by death, by sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief and despair. He is not fettered to suffering, this I declare.
Turning towards the pain in the shoulder, watching it dissolve eventually . . . and being replaced by a myriad of sensations as  I walked down Stanford avenue. Some pleasant, some not so pleasant, some without a known quality. Pain eventually moved to the other side. The body's got its own ideas. Nothing to do but watch, and make the best of each moment. I thought of the Buddha's last moments, ridden with physical pain. I need to guard against the confusion in my mind, between pain and unhappiness, and pleasure and happiness. Not worrying about what the next moment may bring in terms of pain, also allows one to relax. 

How do you deal with pain, both physical and emotional pain? 

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

When You Are Sick Like This

Body ridden with various aches and pain, fatigue, fever . . . the last thing I feel like doing is to sit and practice mindfulness! And yet, I know having the flu is no excuse. Being enveloped by lots of physical unpleasantness does not mean one cannot practice. Quite to the contrary, not feeling good represents the perfect opportunity for investigating mind's reactivity and aversive tendencies. And so, this morning, I willed myself into sitting first thing, heeding Ajahn Chah's teaching - from Our Real Home:
The more tired you feel, the more refined you have to keep focusing on in every time. Why? So that you can contend with pain. When you feel tired, stop all your thoughts. Don't think of anything at all. Focus the mind in at the mind, and then keep the mind with the breath: buddho, buddho. Let go of everything outside. Don't get fastened on your children. Don't get fastened on your grandchildren. Don't get fastened on anything at all. Let go. Let the mind be one. Gather the mind in to one. Watch the breath. Focus on the breath. Gather the mind at the breath. Just be aware at the breath. You don't have to be aware of anything else. Keep making your awareness more and more refined until it feels very small, but extremely awake. The pains that have arisen will gradually grow calm. Ultimately, we watch the breath in the same way that, when relatives have come to visit us, we see them off to the boat dock or the bus station. Once the motor starts, the boat goes whizzing right off. We watch them until they're gone, and then we return to our home.We watch the breath in the same way. We get acquainted with coarse breathing. We get acquainted with refined breathing. As the breathing gets more and more refined, we watch it off. It gets smaller and smaller, but we make our mind more and more awake. We keep watching the breath get more and more refined until there's no more breath. There's just awareness, wide awake. [...] When you're sick like this, gather the mind into oneness. This is your duty. Let everything else go its own way. Sights, sounds, smells, tastes, whatever: Let them go their own way. Just stay focused on your duty. If any preoccupation comes in to bother the mind, just say in your heart: "Leave me alone. Don't bother me. You're no affair of mine." If any critical thoughts come up — fear for your life, fear that you'll die, thinking of this person, thinking of that person — just say in your heart, "Don't bother me. You're no affair of mine."
Being grateful for the opportunity to practice . . . and hopefully becoming more wise.

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

30 Minute Body and Mind Workout

I just discovered a new way to practice mindfulness  . . . 

This one takes place at the Y, on the elliptical machine. And it goes like this:

Set the time for 30 minutes. Pick a strenuous workout. I do 'Intervals', level 12. Hit start, grab the handles, and close your eyes. 

And practice mindfulness, for the whole time.


Focusing on the breath, the intense sensations from body being worked real hard. Body being breathed super fast, in and out, core temperature getting hot, droplets of sweat sliding, down the forehead, the temples, the eyelids, the cheeks, the upper lip, the back of the head, the back of the neck, and vanishing into the chest. Hands touching the handles, shoulders taking turn pushing, then pulling. Feet pressing, legs circling. And the feeling of thoughts trying to squeeze in, and not being given the chance. Same with sounds. Mind's taken by the phenomenon of internal combustion, and can no longer form opinion on bits of conversation, heard and quickly dropped. 

256 calories burnt. Mind completely refreshed. Body hot and happy. All in 30 minutes.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

The Reality of Bodily Suffering

Spinning this morning, there was music, heard, and instructions, heard also, and heat, sensed, from body working hard, and aversion to the effort . . . Mixed in and not belonging to the class, some tightness inherited from a prior interaction. Mind has moved on, or at least thinks so. But the body can't let go so easily. 

There is much research done on neuroplasticity, the ability of the human brain to change as a result of one's experience. While the mind-body connection is undeniable, and the mind can help loosen some of the tensions in the body, one is still left dealing with some reluctant spots. 

The Buddha tells us to calm the bodily formations by turning our attention to the ins and outs of the breath, meanwhile relaxing the tensions. The question is how much of the bodily formations can be calmed, and how quickly? The more recent the formation, and the more superficial, of course, the easier it can be undone. Also, the more one practices mindfulness, the lesser the chance of new formations forming. Still, one is left with the old stuff, habitual patterns of reactivity in the body, and deeply held tensions from emotions tied to unconscious or repressed memories. Through practice, one can learn to sense the knots, and get in touch with the suffering attached. Wishing to rid oneself of the pain, or actively trying to explain it away as is done in some forms of therapy may do us more harm than good.

Sitting with a friend, she tells me she has this thing in her body. She points to her chest. She shows me a collage she did about herself. Many disconnected images, neatly cut out from magazines. She analyzes her work. "This represents me perfectly". I am left feeling cold.  She is hoping for the day when will she will no longer have "this". "I will be free then."  She dreams of being an artist. 

We need to hear Ayya Khema:
Please be aware of the fact that this body does not have suffering, but that it is suffering. Only then can we begin to fathom the reality of human suffering. It is not that we have some discomfort sometimes, but that this body consists of suffering. It can't sit or lie still without becoming uncomfortable. Know the impermanence. Know the unsatisfactoriness, which is inherent in the human body. Know the fact that the feeling has arisen without your invitation. So why call it "mine"? ~ from Being Nobody, Going Nowhere ~
With this realization, comes a reconciliation with oneself, wounds and all, and the wholehearted desire to not add more suffering to what is already there.  More fuel for mindfulness practice . . . and compassion for others. 

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Mindfulness of the Body

Last night, I had the good fortune of attending Gil's second talk on Mindfulness of the Body, part of his  series on the Satipatthana Sutta on The Foundations of Mindfulness. I came out enthralled. Here are my notes from Gil's talk, along with the original text - all quotes from Bhikkhu Boddhi's translation of The Middle Length Discourses of the Buddha:
And how, bhikkhus, does a bhikkhu abide contemplating the body as a body? 
Mindfulness of the body in and of itself, without the filter of identification, comparative thinking, judgements, interpretations. Letting go of the stress of thinking. Keeping it very simple. 
Here a bhikkhu, gone to the forest or to the root of a tree or to an empty hut, sits down; 
Going to a place where things are simple and where we are supported in our process. A quiet place.
having folded his legs crosswise, set his body erect and established mindfulness in front of him, 
Making the choice to plant myself in this place here and now. Taking the time to remind myself, 'I am here'. We are putting aside our life as usually lived, to instead examine life now. Maybe we use a ritual, as is done in zen - rocking back and forth, and side to side, finding our center, before sitting perfectly still.
ever mindful he breathes in, mindful he breathes out. 
Breath is always happening and has a rhythm. By following the breath, it is easier to let go of thoughts. This process takes time, and cannot be achieved right away. We find that we can be present more and more as we keep on returning to the breath.
Breathing in long, he understands: 'I breathe in long'; or breathing out long, he understands: 'I breathe out long.' Breathing in short, he understands: 'I breathe in short'; or breathing out short, he understands: 'I breathe out short.' 
We are not just following the breath. We pay attention to its characteristics and its sensations. We train the mind to see what's there. For this we have to be relaxed.  
He trains thus: 'I shall breathe in experiencing the whole body'; he trains thus: 'I shall breathe out experiencing the whole body.' 
We feel the changes in the whole body as the breath moves in and out. Or a particular spot in the body.
He trains thus: 'I shall breathe in tranquillising the bodily formation'; he trains thus: 'I shall breathe out tranquillising the bodily formation.'
A bodily formation is that which is formed/created  experience in our body, and is conditioned by what the mind does. As for instance, a tightening up of the body as a result of desiring something. We don't just feel the tension to know it, but also to relax it, particularly as we breathe out. Some tensions can be relaxed, others can take a long time. At the very least, we can soften around the tension. It is easier to pay attention to the physical tension connected with thoughts, and to relax it, than to try to let go of the thoughts. Unless we relax the body, it is hard to let go of the tension in the mind. (feedback loop of some kind). This is why we need to meditate in a place that feels safe.

Sitting this morning, on my usual seat, in the quietness of my home office, I made sure to establish my intent to dwell in the present moment. And I practiced following the breath, returning to it every time the mind wandered off. And I felt the minute changes in my whole body, the expansion and the deflation with each going in and out of breath. And I became very aware of the familiar tightness in the midst of the stomach. A long held tension, that I could only hope to appease. Sending my attention to other parts of the body as well. The feet, the hands, the spine, . . . relaxed. Feeling what it's like to be at ease. Thoughts relaxing as well.

Acknowledging this latter point as wisdom, inherited from Ruth during my retreat with her last year:
'I went to her [Ruth Denison] wondering what to do about familiar experience of irritation and tightness in the throat and the stomach. In the past, I had followed other teachers' instructions to linger on the unpleasantness, and it had not worked. Ruth had a different take. "Don't focus on it. The energy is blocked there. Turn your attention to your hands instead, and feel them. Slowly move them up and down. Do you notice any change? What do you feel? Now open and close them. Feeling anything? Then now, rest your hands on your lap, and feel." So simple.
Now, will you join me? Mindfulness of the body, as a gateway to inner freedom . . .

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

3 Rest Stops For the Mind

Isn't it wonderful? We carry with us all we need for the mind to rest. 

No need to go on expensive vacations, or to visit luxurious spas. No need to wait for another time. No need to take classes.

Right here, in the body, we can find 3 places where to give the mind a break.

First is the breath. Landing our attention on each breath, in and out, getting absorbed in the ebb and flow of each inhalation, each exhalation. Even if for only just one breath . . . 

Second are the feet. Feeling the sensations in each foot as it touches the ground. Whether standing, sitting, walking, or lying down. Becoming a sensing being, even if for only just one step . . . 

And third, the hands. The left hand, the right hand, resting, or clasped, or hanging at each side. Feeling each finger. The coldness, the warmth, the blood coursing through. Sensing, even if for only a few moments . . .

3 places of rest, accessible anywhere, any time. 

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Coming to Our Senses, with Jon Kabat-Zinn

This whole week, I am at Mount Madonna Center, attending a retreat with Jon Kabat-Zinn and Saki Santorelli. In honor of Jon Kabat-Zinn, I thought I would feature some of my favorite videos of him in my absence. May you enjoy!

Here is Jon talking about 'Coming to Our Senses', reminding me a lot of Ruth Denison, another one of my favorite teachers, also very much into being in the body, and the sensing experience:




Mindfulness. Not just in the mind, but also and first in the body . . . 

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Not Just a Walking Head

Cold wind meeting left cheek
interrupts train of thoughts
and takes me out of mind.
Walking, walking, I feel
the burn of muscles working hard
and one tear sliding down
from corner of right eye.
Breath comes in also -
chest rising and falling,
rising and falling
in between steps.
Oh! and the roaring sound
of truck, already gone.
Inside the mouth, 
the lingering taste 
of early morning tea, still.
And then up, seeing sky,
a glimpse of sun trying to pierce
through grey wintery clouds.

Early morning California winter sky

Nose tickled happy 
with gasoline smell from leaf blower
and sound again, overpowering that one. 
Gladness of walking, fully awakened.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

What Is That One Thing?

(Back from two and a half week retreat with Ruth Denison, at Dhamma Dena Desert Vipassana Center, I am devoting the next few weeks to sharing Ruth's wonderful teachings.)

Learning to Cultivate the Body with Ruth.

Ruth opened the retreat with a teaching about the body. 
"The body is like a jewelry box from which to give and receive."
Over and over, she had us return to the body, whether sitting, standing, dancing, walking, eating, smelling a flower, listening to music, breathing, chanting,  gardening . . . urging us to pay attention. "Then there is no room for the hindrances."

With Ruth, sitting meditation is not just sitting, but rather a whole dance with the body. First prepping the body, with movement and vocalizations. Then, sweeping the body from feet to head, head to feet.  Several times. Part by part, sensing into the body. Then focusing on the subtleties of the breath.  Sensing the air in front of the lips, and following each breath precisely as it enters the middle of the nostrils, then going up the nose into the trachea, into the lungs, belly rising . . . visualizing, to make up for our still gross awareness. Realizing that we are never alone that way:
"You are never deserting yourself. You are always in company - the kind that will never leave you."
Always with the breath as primary focus, and when that proves too elusive for our still tenuous attention, falling back on the body, sitting, as secondary focus.
       
Back from the retreat, sitting at home, I remember
Body sitting, quiet,
being breathed;
mind alert.
and that is usually enough to bring me back whenever the mind wanders.

Ruth is known for her skillfulness with the body. I went to her wondering what to do about familiar experience of irritation and tightness in the throat and the stomach. In the past, I had followed other teachers' instructions to linger on the unpleasantness, and it had not worked. Ruth had a different take. "Don't focus on it. The energy is blocked there. Turn your attention to your hands instead, and feel them. Slowly move them up and down. Do you notice any change? What do you feel?  Now open and close them. Feeling anything? Then now, rest your hands on your lap, and feel." So simple. 

Actually, not so simple. I could hardly feel my hands. I felt like a child needing to learn my way through the world of body and sensations. Thinking thoughts, feeling emotions, that I could do. But being in my body, that was another matter. 

A few days, it took me before I could feel that I was coming to my senses, literally. I wrote, 'Feeling that I am only now starting to inhabit my body, all of it. Body as a place of refuge.  Unlike before, when I used to reluctantly dwell in body. Finding joy in walking, sitting, standing . . .'


Ruth ended the retreat the same way she started. With the body:
There is one thing that when cultivated and regularly practiced leads to deep spiritual intention, to peace, to mindfulness and clear comprehension, to vision and knowledge, to a happy life here and now, and to the culmination of wisdom and awakening. And what is that one thing? Mindfulness centered on the body. ~ Anguttara Nikaya I, 21 ~
If the body is not cultivated, the mind cannot be cultivated. If the body is cultivated then the mind can be cultivated. ~ Majjhima Nikaya 36 ~
Holding strong to this simple method, and always going back to the body.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Empty Houses in the Desert

(Back from two and a half week retreat with Ruth Denison, at Dhamma Dena Desert Vipassana Center, I am devoting the next few weeks to sharing Ruth's wonderful teachings.)

Every day, walking through the Mojave desert, I became fascinated with the empty houses strewn throughout the arid landscape. 

Pink house, 
all boarded up.

Boarded pink house in Mojave Desert.

Old house, looted,
nothing left to be had.

Looted house in Mojave Desert.

House of brick,
structure still intact.

Empty house of bricks in Mojave Desert.

Soulful wooden house,
begging to be visited.

Wooden empty house in Mojave Desert.

Dilapidated house,
and a brand new fence.

Fenced up empty house in Mojave Desert.

Houses, empty,
many of them.

And I thought of my  body, and the way I used to not be there.
I thought of most people's bodies, and the way they fail to inhabit
these most precious structures of theirs.
Empty, no life any more.
Empty, no life yet.

(impressions from retreat with Ruth, about learning to inhabit my body - following Ruth's lead - coming to my senses)

Thursday, June 3, 2010

The Woman Who Saved My Back

For the past five years, I have suffered from severe chronic back pain. The surgeon offered his services, but I declined. I had heard too many stories about botched back surgeries. While meditation helped tremendously, to the point where I could go for extended periods of time, feeling almost no pain, it  did not address the physical cause. So be it, I thought.

Until I met Esther Gokhale.

Esther's office is only a few blocks from my house. She also happens to be a back guru whose reputation keeps on expanding. She has been endorsed by the Mayo Clinic. The Palo Alto Medical Foundation is doing a research project on her technique. She saved Joan Baez's back. She has been written up in Vogue . . . And several of my friends swear by her.

She was also invited to give a talk to Google employees, part of Google Talks Series:


Esther showed me how my posture was all wrong. Feet falling inward, instead of assuming their original kidney shape. Knees locked, instead of being relaxed. Pelvic bowl tipping back instead of forward. Spine overextended in the front, instead of in the back, shoulders hunching forward instead of back, chin  up instead of head and neck straight . . . No wonder my back had given up! 

Esther told me to read her book, 8 Steps to a Pain-Free Back, and to sign up for her six class series. I am almost through, and can't say enough. I have relearned how to walk, and sit, and lie down, and lift, so as to not stress my back, using proper posture, and all the right muscles. The pain is gone, really gone. And, I can now experience again the satisfaction of meditating on a cushion, as opposed to a chair!

I am feeling so grateful!

Friday, April 23, 2010

Taking Good Care

These last few weeks, I have been feeling the strain from giving myself wholeheartedly to the demands of the path. And I have become very aware of the need for raw heart, and alert mind to be held within sturdy container of healthy body. Hence the importance of self-care, starting with such basics as eating healthy, exercising one's muscles, and getting enough sleep. As the French say, 'Qui veut aller loin menage sa monture' (Whoever wants to travel far, steady wins the race)

The Buddha agrees:

So, too, prince there are five factors for striving . . .

Here a bhikkhu has faith, he places his faith in the Tathagata's enlightenment . . .

Then he is free from illness and affliction, possessing a good digestion that is neither too cool nor too warm but medium and able to bear the strain of striving.

Then he is honest and sincere, and shows himself as he actually is to the Teacher and his companions in the holy life.

Then he is energetic in abandoning unwholesome states and in undertaking wholesome states, steadfast, launching his effort with firmness and persevering in cultivating wholesome states.

Then he is wise; he possesses wisdom regarding rise and disappearance that is noble and penetrative and leads to the complete destruction of suffering.

These are the five factors of striving.

- from Bodhirajakumara Sutta: To Prince Bodhi, in Bhikkhu Nanamoli and Bhikkhu Bodhi's translation of The Middle Length Discourses of the Buddha -

What do you do to take care of yourself?

Friday, November 27, 2009

Body, Breath, and Beyond

Body's become a wide expanse, ripe for exploration. This morning, sitting in quiet house, nobody awake yet, I enjoyed free flow of breath, belly soft. Loving sensation of whole body, relaxed and completely at ease. Thinking, this is how I want to feel. And almost at once, familiar tightening, in stomach. Tensing even more. Oh! no, not again. Image of balloon being squeezed in middle with each breath. Each inhale pushing its way through, fighting for space with unwanted balloon. Not helping. Balloon getting bigger instead, squishing each breath, more and more. Breath and balloon, fighting. Thinking I need to change strategy. Not fight with balloon. Breathing softly, with balloon. Melting into outer skin of balloon, until it dissolves completely. Feeling nauseous. Discomfort moving up to the throat, and the upper back and shoulders. Wondering, how much time left? This is hard work. Concentration waning. Back to breath. Relaxing into discomfort, and subtle changes, moment to moment.

Shrinking, reactive, aversive, closed, rigid self. Relaxed, expansive, fluid, open, natural self. And bare awareness. All three, present, playing out in body.

The closer I look inside, and 'see' rigid self at play, the more I get tired of being it. At same time, I need to be very careful to not reinforce unwanted part with more aversion. Similarly, I am aware of danger of wanting Buddha nature too much, and turning into yet another craving. A delicate balance to be found. Remembering Gil's words during earlier interview. No need to worry. Mindfulness usually takes care of that sort of things.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

A Journey Into the Heart

More work with body today. Meditation led me to stomach, once more. Using each in and out breath to feel my way through the heaviness. Image of big rock sitting at the bottom of stomach cavity. Not easily digestible. Entering the rock, being the rock, inside and all around rough surface. Taking the time to explore. Sensation of rock expanding, and moving up oesophagus. Whole chest turns into warm mass. Breathing throughout, noticing most of the breaths, and some occasional thoughts. Energy moves up to top of the head. Feeling headache, and nausea. Breathing through, getting inside the brain, feeling tension there. Deep sigh. Bell rings, too soon, interrupting process. I decide to sit a while longer. Headache requires some more attention. Staying in the head, breathing into it. There is sadness, and tears almost. Headache disappears. Instead deep sighs, and sensation of expansion in the heart. Feeling the inside of my heart. So vast. Like a large room with lots of space to wander, and be. On the far wall, I 'see' spot. Looks like a sting. Small, compared to rest of wall surface, that is undisturbed, and smooth. Feeling love.