Working Meditation

Observations on Human Connection & Contribution

Home » Zooming In » Thinking » Page 3

Thinking: Observations related to thoughts

#39: Unseen impressions

Like many people, I’ve been on endless video calls over the last year. A few of these were facilitated sessions where, for one reason or another, the facilitator invited attendees to close their eyes and turn inward. I noticed that sometimes after closing my eyes, I would have the imprint of an image for the first few seconds. The first time I really noticed was because I saw the outline of someone sitting in meditation, like the buddha. For a very brief moment I genuinely thought that I had connected to a deeper, more anchored, part of me and that’s why I was seeing this calm outline. Then I opened my eyes to realize there was a massive buddha statue behind the teacher in an otherwise sparse background. I found the source of my imprint and it made sense. “Of course!!”, I thought and then moved on to forgot all about it.

Then a few months later, in another facilitated session, I saw the outline of a person with a large square next to them and a little square inside the large square. It was as if someone had painted these clear details in shades of charcoal. I kept on going with the assigned exercise and when I opened my eyes, I saw that my partner for this exercise was sitting next to a window with a small square box fan on the window sill. In this exercise, we were invited to offer deep presence to the person in front of us. All my attention was on my partner and I had not even noticed the window, let alone the box fan. Yet, all that information was imprinted behind my eyelids somehow. I didn’t make this happen consciously and even now that I’m more aware, this doesn’t always happen. It seems that for these impression to appear, a few conditions need to be present: the canvas of a quiet and empty mind, accompanied by a prolonged gaze, followed by closing the eyes to let the impressions appear. When my mind is hyperactive or when I look briefly, I don’t absorb all the details. When I gaze and don’t close my eyes, clearly I don’t see the imprint.

This makes me think if there are intellectual parallels to this and whether this holds true for our minds in general. What needs to be true for us to absorb information; when does the information make an imprint and when does it dissipate; and most concerning perhaps…what impressions might we be absorbing without even realizing?

It’s worthwhile to observe our unseen impressions. What are we making space for on our mental canvas, what do we spend our uninterrupted presence on, what do we think about when we turn inwards?

“The work of the eyes is done. Go now and do the heart-work on the images imprisoned within you.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke

#32: Changing our minds

My dearest uncle was a general in the Indian Armed Forces; so my cousins and I spent our childhood summers in varied and gorgeous military cantonments across India, following our uncle to wherever he was posted as the commanding officer. One of his postings was to Shillong, a small town in Northeastern India, replete with the most luscious greenery I’ve ever seen. This included a seemingly endless bounty of pineapples, which all the other kids feasted on for several summers and I religiously avoided. I’ve never been particularly fond of pineapples. Maybe it was the overly sweet taste or the texture…I’m not sure.

Propel my life a few decades and somehow a bit of frozen pineapple made its way into my morning smoothie with raw cacao, banana and chia seeds. The taste combination was divine and it was the pineapple that gave the blend an extra dose of oomph! Since then, I randomly toss in frozen pineapple in my smoothies as a treat. And last weekend…I bought the first ever real pineapple of my life. It just looked gorgeous sitting there in the grocery store and I couldn’t keep my hands off. The next day when I walked by my Pacific Northwestern kitchen and saw this majestic fruit sitting unexpectedly on the counter, looking all sorts of tropical, beautiful and inviting, I had to pause and reflect on the pretty sudden U-turn. What changed?

I found the right on-ramp for the pineapple. That is, the right context and dose for my taste buds. But my taste buds have also evolved to allow for that on-ramp in the first place. Perhaps you have a “pineapple” in your life? Something you avoided in the past and now are intrigued by? What changed? Allow yourself the space to embrace your pineapple. Mine is making my life sweeter.

“To grow, you must be willing to let your present and future be totally unlike your past. Your history is not your destiny.”― Alan Cohen

#16: This step

When I was learning how to drive, I recall marveling at people that zipped past me at high speeds; switching lanes while laughing or chatting with their co-riders. No sweat! I wondered how far in advance they needed to plan their moves. My new understanding of driving mechanics combined with an awareness that I would soon be piloting a sprinting tin can created a cocktail of nervousness. I simply couldn’t imagine being so nonchalant at high speeds.

I now know that the best drivers stay completely present to what is right here right now.  While they stay tuned-in to weather and road conditions, their and others’ vehicles and driving abilities, they don’t over-fixate on all possible scenarios ahead. They don’t become nervous wrecks because a speeding motorcycle just got pulled over, give up if a race-car driver passes by in a Ferrari, or go nuts if a friend driving 10 miles ahead is stopped at a traffic signal. They observe dispassionately, absorb what’s necessary to cultivate good driving instincts, and make shifts if needed. Spatial and self-awareness are handy data points on the way to good judgment.

Bringing focus back repeatedly to this step, that is under our control right now, seems to be the key to ease in driving, business and life.

“You can not catch it, my little Ted;
Enjoy to-day,” the mother said;
“Some wait for to-morrow through many a year
It is always coming, but never is here.” ― M. B. Johnson

#13: Dance like no one is watching

Easier said than done. When you are alone, you know no one is watching and no one will ever critique your funky dance  moves. No matter how free a dancer you are, a part of you gets tuned into the performance the minute you are surrounded by onlookers.

I’m noticing that before I started posting anything publicly, insights would gush out of me and I couldn’t download them fast enough. It didn’t matter what flavor these downloads were; I would tune in and put my intimate thoughts on paper without regard to outcome. There was no editing whatsoever as the words exploded onto the screen. A lot of this writing felt new, and at times unexpected, to me too. I didn’t know that I had those word combinations inside the crevices of my mind and it sometimes felt as if I was reading the material for the first time. This isn’t ancient history. This happened until a couple of weeks ago so I know nothing major has changed, except now a few dear family and friends know about the existence of this blog. I’m noticing that now the editing starts happening the minute I begin documenting an idea, even before I’ve allowed the complete download to happen. Because I know my words are now also consumed by others, there’s a part of me that feels the need to “create value”. Some common thought patterns I’m noticing – will this be useful in their context; am I coming out too strong, too preachy, or too political; is this writing too long or too short; am I wasting people’s time and…blah, blah, blah.

The need to be liked and loved is deep-seated in our human animal, and it shows up repeatedly in our everyday. Our more developed brain knows that no one is kicking us out of the tribe for a little dance move or a blog post but the reptilian brain keeps shooting flares. I can see this impact today in a very tangible way – I’m losing my purity of thought as the reptilian brain jumps in to edit my words before I’m ready. I know my reptile will shadow me till I live so here’s my solve: I refuse to stop the gushing stream of ideas at the source. I will edit more consciously later in the process to ensure others, that don’t live inside my head, understand my intended meaning.

Yes, I’ll make sure that the message makes sense to the audience, the product satisfies the customers, the strategy makes sense to the team, and the venture gets funded. But before I do any of that, I need to keep nurturing that pure flame of insight and not let my reptilian fear snuff it out.

We start editing too early in the process.

“FROM pent-up aching rivers,
From that of myself, without which I were nothing,
From what I am determin’d to make illustrious, even if I stand
sole among men…” ― Walt Whitman

#11: Spring cleaning, except weekly

Ever find that what started as one web browser tab is now 19 tabs over 4 different windows? I have a system; all similar topics stay in one window. For example, one window for writing-related stuff, one for business, another for yoga training, and yet another for any personal administrative items. I don’t close these tabs when I get buried under work, thinking I may need that specific gem of internet wisdom handy. The faster I want to work, the greater the open tab count so I can quickly toggle between tasks. Soon that system itself overwhelms because it’s hard to do all four tasks well in one day.

In tandem, the “very smart phone” is spinning its own web of notifications. What starts off as no notifications on the phone becomes “only these two useful apps”, which is now more like five. The much needed physical therapy app, the chat app to keep me connected with loved ones from afar, the smart doorbell to ensure safety in turbulent times and so on….each of them useful and with their own customizable notification set. 

On days when I have an audacious agenda though—especially when I’m already low on sleep, nutrition and movement—these open tabs and pinging notifications seem to shoot arrows my way to break attention. On such days, I close it all. Shut it down. All of it. And instantly feels like a load got lifted. Ah!

It doesn’t matter if something is left unread and unattended. If it is important, it will resurface. Something in me wants a fresh start for the day and week, even if that happens to be on a Thursday.

“What is freedom? It is the moment-by-moment experience of not being run by one’s own reactive mechanisms.” — Ken McLeod