Working Meditation

Observations on Human Connection & Contribution

Home » Archives for February 2022

Archives for February 2022

#72: Eyes in your boat

I was at a silent meditation course recently where one commits to noble silence, i.e. silence of the body, speech, and mind. The goal is to cultivate inward attention so you don’t speak, write, read, touch another human or make eye contact for the duration of the course. The days start at 4am and end at 9:30pm alternating between individual sits, group sits, and breaks to eat and move in silence. A gong is sounded to indicate a break. It’s the purest form of silence possible while being in community.

For the individual sits, one can meditate in their room or the meditation hall. Since this was my second time, I knew individual sits in my room made me sleepy or lax. So I pledged to meditate in the hall even for my individual sits. It was the right call–my focus was better and my practice deepened. Not once did I feel the need to get up before the gong was struck. It wasn’t very hard this time; just hard. I did what I could everyday while paying no attention to others, as was the goal. Until the last day when I heard someone getting up and leaving the hall mid-way. Then another person and then another only to realize that I was the only one left. The hall is relatively empty during individual sits as most people prefer to meditate in their rooms. I had a general awareness but until this day, I didn’t pay much attention to when people came and left. Perhaps a part of me was pleased with how well I’d stuck to my intention so I started noting others. This awareness was top of mind in the next sit and in addition to the mental and physical fluctuations, there was a very clear outward focus on others and when they might leave. When they started filtering out, I noted. I also noted my desire to get up and walk out in the sunshine, to stretch my legs and breathe in the fresh air, just like them. Then the course came to an end and I left with the hope to wake up earlier in my everyday life. I thought if I could manage 4am during the course, I could certainly do 5am when back home. I came home to find a husband who had taxing work week so he needed to sleep in. He slept in and so did I, even though my week wasn’t taxing.

Yes, we are social creatures and this natural osmosis gives us the flexibility to thrive and grow with others. But this strength can become a deficit if we’re not careful; especially when we start anchoring our internal commitments to others’ external actions. We may have clarity around what we want to do in our short life, until we see someone else living differntly. A bit here and a bit there and before we know it, our life feels alien.

The phrase “eyes in your boat” helps redirect attention quickly. It’s a pithy directive I first heard while dragonboating and rowing. In both sports, efficient movement requires a team of people to move in complete unison. Any minor distraction and you feel an immediate impact in the next stroke. So you focus on your own stroke while mirroring the motion of the person right in front of you. When your mind wanders to a competing boat, a beautiful bird, or anything else, the coach will instantly nudge you back with this phrase. It has been helpful to me when I get distracted by worry, fear or judgment. It prevents me from sliding on the slippery slope of mindless imitation. Try it. 

“The bad news is you’re falling through the air, nothing to hang on to, no parachute. The good news is, there’s no ground.”— Chögyam Trungpa: Tibetan Buddhist meditation master

#71: Thresholds and applied learning

This post builds upon my last one on thresholds and pauses. By threshold I mean any undertaking that is different from what we’re currently doing or have ever done. Once we determine that we are indeed crossing a threshold, we may need to go searching for knowledge and tools to upskill. And we will likely encounter many intriguing and useful ideas during our exploration. Realizing that we know little, there may be an urge to unblock ourselves not just for the imminent threshold but preemptively for future ones too.

There is a bounty of affordable and high-quality knowledge out there; with as many functional frameworks as there are thinkers and organizations. While plentiful information is a blessing in general, it can be disabling if we approach it with a scarcity mindset and binge on whatever ideas we encounter. The key to progress isn’t to know everything and become an expert, it is to understand the context these frameworks are designed for and how they generally fit together. We don’t need to absorb every detail, just make note and categorize compelling ideas, frameworks and tools as resources to call upon when the right time comes.

We don’t prepare for all thresholds, we prepare only for the relevant ones. Because we won’t cross all thresholds in our limited timeline on earth. Every concept under the sun is more helpful and resonates deeper when it is actually applied vs. learned in theory.

“Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”― Rainer Maria Rilke, Austrian poet and novelist.

#70: Thresholds and pauses

There seem to be two ways of orienting to any new task. The first way is to jump in head-first without a pause and the second is to pause and understand the structure of the task, and our role and skills in relation to it. The pause-less action may be because of well-earned confidence or lack of awareness. If we take a pause, it may be short or long, noticeable or invisible even to us.

Like everyone else I’ve followed both approaches at different times but I’ve never really reflected on this because my approach to a task wasn’t the noteworthy part, the task was. I’ve recently experienced the comfort of doing something hard without thinking much and the discomfort of feeling unprepared and stuck mid-task. I’ve had to perch above my shoulders as I worked to observe what I was doing and what needed to change. I’ve had to pause and reflect on whether I had the tools, skills, information, context and mindset that I needed.

How do we know that a pause is in order and how can we make this process instinctive without overthinking? Two tell-tales have been helpful to me:

  1. Is the next task sufficiently different from what I’m doing or anything I’ve ever done? In other words, am I crossing a threshold? 
  2. Am I stuck spinning my wheels?

“People who wonder whether the glass is half empty or half full miss the point. The glass is refillable.”— Simon Sinek, author

#69: Setting our Pace

Ever try to run fast to slow and somber music or meditate to loud heavy metal? Certain tempos just don’t jive with the task at hand. The same holds true for our internal rhythms. We all operate at varying baselines but every person functions within a range of energy and activity. It’s valuable to understand our personal range and what determines our fluctuation so we can, to the degree possible, match our internal rhythm with the pace of our tasks. It also ensures we don’t blindly slump into rhythms of those we cohabitate with, and makes for more joyful and constructive days.

A side note: When people mention rhythm and pace in a modern context, it’s often a reminder to slow down. That’s not what this is.

The pace of our days is determined in some part by us, then by our responsibilities, and the rest by our environment and culture. However, as we progress through life, our vocation and environment tend to command how we anchor our days so we often lose sense of our innate wiring. Our pace also shifts when we or our context evolve. This is an invitation to explore inputs that feed our pace and adjust what we need to. One may need to slow down or stop in places and engage or speed up in others.

Innate tendency:

  • Is my natural tendency to lower the gears so much that inertia sets in or fire them so much that stress and burnout sets in? We’re all somewhere in the middle but it’s a big continuum; where do I fall on it?
  • How do I like to spend my downtime when not influenced by others? Asked another way: what does my ideal Sunday look like?

Stamina:

  • Which of these comes easily to me and which do I struggle with: sleep, movement, nutrition.
  • When and how do I naturally like to sleep/move/eat when not influenced by others or my environment?
  • What type of stamina comes easily to me and what might I want to cultivate: mental, physical or emotional?
  • How else do I like to build my energy, and am I lacking that input (mental stimulation, human connection, play etc.)?

Type of work:

  • What does my work need of me – expansive and creative thinking, more focused and critical evaluation, a combination, or something else?
  • Am I lacking any tools or skills that could help me work more effectively?
  • Do I use tools that in a different context become hindrances? 

Seasonality:

  • Do certain tasks go more smoothly at certain times of the day or week, in certain types of places, in silence or with sound, surrounded by people or without?
  • Do I naturally structure my days or weeks a certain way?
  • How do I function at different times of the day, different seasons?

Focus:

  • How much time do I need time to warm up and settle into focus? Does it vary by task?
  • When am I easily distractible?
  • What causes 80% of my distractions? Is it external or internal?
  • When it’s internal, is it physical, mental or emotional?
  • When it’s external, is it something I can control or is it outside my influence?

Stakeholders:

  • Which humans or creatures depend on me?
  • What do they need from me? I.e. what is my role within each context?
  • Who needs energy from me and who offers energy to me?
  • What is their pace and “seasonality”? Do they need me more at certain times than others? Do I need others more at certain times?

We can sometimes latch onto identities and internalize them. This obscures the truth so when observing oneself, it’s best to ignore internal judgments.

For instance, I’m not (or perhaps no longer) a “night-owl” or “have the stamina of a marine” as I’ve been told. I do best when I eat early, ideally by 7:00pm, and sleep by 10:00pm. This was initially unsettling to me and while it rarely happens given my schedule, it’s my reality. Many useful learnings have come about by observing my rhythms without judgment. You might be startled or delighted by what you uncover.

“If we can allow some space within our awareness and rest there, we can respect our troubling thoughts and emotions, allow them to come, and let them go. Our lives may be complicated on the outside, but we remain simple, easy, and open on the inside.”— Tsoknyi Rinpoche: Nepalese Tibetan Buddhist teacher and author 

#68: Room for doubt

There are times where even a hint of doubt is undesirable. For example, high-stakes situations with immediate consequences; like landing an aircraft or performing life-saving surgery. For a lot of other things however we carry more doubt than we show and we tend to hide it even from ourselves. Maybe because action requires certainty and commitment to follow through and we fear if we dwell too long in doubt, we’ll melt our resolve to act. But suppressing doubt doesn’t nullify it. We carry uncertainty, hesitation and indecision perpetually.

A particularly poignant example for me is Mother Teresa, who continued in her good works despite a 50-year crisis of faith. She says in one of her letters to her spiritual advisor – “When I try to raise my thoughts to heaven, there is such convicting emptiness that those very thoughts return like sharp knives and hurt my very soul. I am told God loves me, and yet the reality of darkness and coldness and emptiness is so great, nothing touches my soul.” This is was written in the 1940s, relatively early in her work and roughly 30 years before her Nobel Peace Prize in 1979. These doubts never abated but she didn’t abandon her belief or her work.

It’s a difficult place to operate from…when something speaks to us intrinsically enough that we commit to it but know on some level that we know little and will never know the full picture. Parenting, faith, and entrepreneurship are some common examples but the biggest example is the human life itself. Most of our discomfort is tied to the existential questions. Can any of us say with 100% certainty, without any doubt why we are here, what the purpose of a human life is, and what happens after we die? We fill in the blanks with high-judgment estimates and go about focusing on our daily life and goals. We let the act of living guide and consume us enough to create a sense of certainty in aspects: “I don’t know what happens after but know I was made for this work”. “The only thing I’m certain of is that I love my kids”. “Math has always made sense to me”. “I feel at home when I play the piano”. And so on. Micro doses of certainty on the macro path of unknown. Moments of clarity interwoven with moments of doubt, fear and loss. 

My evolving theory on doubt is this:

  1. The clearest indicator of what we should pursue and how we should live is a faint and sometimes hard to hear signal that we carry somewhere inside. Even though we carry it within, it comes across only when we silence the noise of daily pursuits, and listen without judgment. Because we may resist what we hear.
  2. We have to act despite doubt. The action doesn’t need to be big or all at once.
  3. A shared space with other people doing similar work is a huge boost, especially if we aren’t comfortable with what we’re being called to do. If this space or collective doesn’t exist, we need to create it.

#3 is perhaps the most important part in working alongside doubt. It ensures that in difficult moments, we have the wisdom of others doing  their own but similar work. That we have a safe space to air doubt, gain perspective and courage to keep going. It’s important that they understand this specific practice we have chosen. Its nuance, its promise, its fear, its draw and terror, the joy of having taken this path and the ache of having given up other options. If we want to keep going, it’s important we create a space that helps us recommit when we stumble. 

“It’s not necessary to be a saint to do good. You need willing hands, not clean ones. If we wait for our souls to be totally clean, our time on Earth may slip away.”― Mother Teresa: Roman Catholic nun