Assigned Seating

On a recent flight, I switched seats with someone on the plane. It didn't really matter to me where I sat, and it was a kind gesture on the other person's part to offer... I hesitated, but ultimately accepted, and therefore ended up someplace where I wasn't really supposed to be.

I sat next to a man who, admittedly, I was mildly annoyed by for a variety of reasons. He was loud.  He was on the phone with his wife, speaking to her in a way that I found unacceptable. He was eating a dripping, greasy cheeseburger, the smell of which was offensive to me. He didn't shut down his computer and phone for so long that the flight attendant had to come and get ugly with him about it. He was one of those people that had a snide comment about everything. I popped my headphones in and stuffed my nose in my book to avoid any chit chatting in which, prior to that point, he had tried to engage me.  I settled in like this for almost the entire flight.

As the plane started to descend, though, I put away my music, and he asked me about the book I was reading. It was Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning. He had never heard of it, so I explained the central ideas and themes. I'd read it before, it was part of the required reading for my yoga training, but I was rereading it. I'm not sure why, exactly, but I somehow felt the need to explain all of this to him, too. 

"I think my wife needs to read that," he said. Oh boy. My thoughts in that moment were:  so you are going to complain to me about your wife?! Dude. You have no idea where my head is right now. You will regret that choice 'cause I will give you the what fors right here in first class.

"Actually, what I really wish is that my son had read it. He committed suicide on Father's Day." Oh. Oy. Ouch. I opted, at this point, instead, to give myself the what fors. I expressed my condolences and told him I can't imagine the depth of this sort of pain for him, his wife, everyone who held this young man close. I quickly made the connection regarding his comment about his wife and brought up mother's love and mother's guilt and how I could imagine that his wife was feeling as though part of her life's purpose was gone and that the search for new purpose at once with the search for relief from depression and despair must be overwhelming.

"It was our second," he replied. I looked at him for a moment, not clearly understanding what he meant. "Our other son had leukemia and died after a bone marrow transplant." I was stunned, but somehow found the phrase "survivor guilt" in my arsenal and asked him if the other son had suffered from it. And sure enough, the "it should have been me" was at the root of his other son's problems.

"It should not have been him," I said, "because it wasn't his curriculum. Just as it wasn't yours or your wife's. It wasn't your lesson to learn, but having lived through it, you learned what you were supposed to." 

At that moment, the man in front of us, having heard just bits of our conversation, turned and asked me what kind of yoga I practice. The question, in the midst of the discussion of death and survivor guilt, seemed oddly yet perfectly timed. I shared. The man in front then informed me he was "a Bikram guy". We talked briefly about the peace that consistent practice brings and how a lack of practice is noticeable physically, mentally, emotionally.

"Tell me more about that," the man next to me said. And so I did. I encouraged him to try yoga and to seriously consider practicing yoga with his wife if she was open to it, even if it was to go to a studio and rest in child's pose for an hour. An escape. A focus. A place to just be... and just be together. 

Who knows if he did or did not... but at least I know that as he walked off the plane and thanked me profusely for talking to him about life and yoga and the combination thereof, perhaps he had a new option that he might not have otherwise thought of; one more strategy at hand, one more chance to rebuild his body, refocus his mind, and reconnect with that which is most important for us all, and that which does, indeed, die last: hope.

And so, it seems, that even though I wasn't in my assigned seat that day, I was, in fact, exactly where I was supposed to be.

The Art of Doing Nothing

The Buddha asked a young monk to go to the river to fetch some water.   When the monk arrived at the river, he found it wildly turbulent, so much so, that he could not even approach the water's edge.  The violent swirling stirred up sediment from the bottom of the river, making the water muddy and undrinkable.  The young monk returned to the Buddha, feeling like a failure.  The Buddha told him to return to the river, sit on the bank, and do nothing,  The monk was confused, but did as he was told.  He sat for hours by the wild river, doing nothing.  Finally, he noticed the water beginning to calm and, eventually, clear.  He filled his buckets and returned, thanking the Buddha for teaching him the art of doing nothing.

I'm sitting by a roaring fire, purring cat curled across the top of my chair, sleeping dogs at my feet, with quiet children scattered throughout the house.  Despite the fact that both local and federal authorities have declared a state of emergency as we await a "catastrophic" ice storm to pummel Atlanta, I'm enveloped in a sense of peace and warmth.  Sure, there is laundry to put away, dishes to do, and classes to plan, but I am making a point of spending some time today doing nothing.

Lao Tzu said, "Doing nothing is better than being busy doing nothing."  Far too often we busy ourselves with lengthy to do lists, only to find that we were on the go all day long, occupying every moment of our time, but we were not able to put a big enough dent in the list and, therefore, don't feel particularly successful.  One day's tasks then roll into the next day… and then the next day's tasks roll forward… on and on.

So determined are we to fill our spare time that we see doing nothing as a waste of time; we seek to always do something… anything.  To do nothing, and to do it on purpose, feels as though we are unproductive.  However, the opposite is true.  The ability to find stillness is affirming and energizing, even if it's just for a few quiet moments at a time.  Ultimately, giving ourselves time to relax, reset, and reconnect makes us more productive.  The fact that I have been meaning to blog for the last week or so but wasn't able to actually the create time and space to sit down and write until today, when I purposefully spent some time doing "nothing", is not lost on me.

The concept of meditation can be intimidating, but the act of meditation doesn't have to be, and it's a natural way to tap into the art of doing nothing.  Of course, those who have a strong meditation practice might take issue with calling it "nothing"… for it is, indeed, something, and a transformative something at that!  However, the point is that even if we aren't meditating in the purist sense of the word, if we set aside just 5-10 minutes per day where we remove all distractions and find stillness of mind and body, focusing on nothing but our breath, we become more in tune with ourselves, better able to manage stress, and, ultimately, we are more productive.

When was the last time you spent a quiet moment doing nothing at all… no effort, no work, no distraction, just you, your breath and the natural beauty within and around you?  Indulge in the art of doing nothing and you will find, just like the young monk by the river, greater clarity and a stronger sense of accomplishment.

The Art of Doing Nothing Playlist

No Bricks Required

"Slow down and everything you are chasing will come around to catch you."

~ John DePaola

I once heard a story about a man who achieved great success early in life.  He lived in the fast lane, both literally and figuratively.  One morning, as he sped to work in his brand new sports car, he thought he saw something dart out between the parked cars lining the street of an urban neighborhood.  He slowed down just long enough to glance in his mirrors.  There was nothing there.  He didn't think too much of it and continued.

Suddenly, he heard a loud thud on the passenger side door of his car.  This time, he stopped.  He got out of the car and found a dented door and brick lying next to the car.  He looked around and saw a young boy staring at him, wide-eyed and teary.  Angrily, he asked the boy if he had thrown the brick.  The boy responded that he had and was apologetic, explaining that his brother had fallen and he wasn't strong enough to pick him back up.  He said he'd tried to get the man's attention several times, but that he didn't notice, didn't stop, and there was no one else around to assist.

The man turned to look down the street and saw an older boy lying on the sidewalk with an overturned wheelchair beside him.  He softened, walked over, picked up the boy and put him back in his wheelchair.  He wished the brothers well and watched as they wandered down the street together.

As he walked back to his car, he decided not to repair the dent in the door.  He believed it was a good reminder that no one should move through life so fast that it is necessary to throw bricks at them in to get their attention.

Indeed.

Ghandi said, "There's more to life than increasing its speed".  However, we live in a forward momentum society where great emphasis seems to be placed on the fast track.  We somehow feel inadequate if we aren't constantly hustling and bustling.  We often have the illusion that there isn't enough time to do what needs doing, that we can't get enough done.  We deny ourselves the time to slow down because we feel it is a waste.  I would argue, however, that finding time in each day to clear your mind, still your body, and focus on nothing except your breath significantly increases productivity, reduces stress, and provides an opportunity to reset and refocus.

We must find ways to enjoy life more by slowing down… for when we go too fast, we not only miss the scenery and risk needing metaphorical bricks to capture our attention, but also we lose our sense of where we are going and the reason for which we are going there.

Live life at a "no bricks required" pace.

Slow Down Playlist

Not So Great Expectations

Have you ever noticed that some of life's happiest moments are ones in which we have no expectations?

Studies show that one of the common characteristics of happy people is that they have few expectations.  Expectations can lead to disappointment and a failure to appreciate what's right in front of us.  The more we expect, the less grateful we are for what we have and what we receive, and ingratitude is the mother of unhappiness.  When we let go of expectations, when we are able to simply accept life as it is, we are free to lighten up, live in the moment, and appreciate the everyday beauty that surrounds us.

Of course we all have things to do, deadlines to meet, plans to complete, ambitions to consider and visions for which to strive.  We expect a great deal of ourselves.  Letting go of expectations doesn't mean that we live aimless lives.  It simply means that as we work towards achieving our goals, we do so with a sense of self-acceptance and an understanding that we are exactly where we belong at any point along the path.  We have to recognize and appreciate the difference between having aspirations and having expectations.   Life doesn't always adhere to our to do lists the way we'd like it to, and therefore, we can either lament about the things we aren't getting done fast or well enough, panic about things not turning out as expected, or, just as we do on the mat, we can accept ourselves exactly as we are at any given moment, take a breath, and continue to move forward.

We instinctively want to create and maintain a sense of momentum around our responsibilities and desires, but in the grand scheme of things, our happiness doesn't really depend upon how quickly we progress but, rather, with how accepting we are of ourselves and our present reality.

"Live your life.  Sing your song.  Not full of expectations.  Not for the ovations.  Do it for the joy of it."

~ Rasheed Ogunlaru

Often we expect so much more than the world has to offer.  If we learn to stop expecting impossible perfection in ourselves and in others, we can live more fully in the present, better appreciate the beauty that surrounds us, and feel a greater sense of contentment.

Have you ever noticed that some of the happiest moments are the ones in which we have no expectations?

Expectations Playlist

Failure is a Great Option

It is often said that failure is not an option.  While I certainly understand this concept in the grand scheme of things, I believe that failure is, indeed, an important option along the way to ultimate success.  Perhaps success should be defined as how you handle failure.  In the end, it doesn't really matter how many times you fall, as long as you get back up one more time than you fall down.

Failure is delay, not defeat.  Thomas Edison failed numerous times before inventing the light bulb and is quoted as saying, "I have not failed.  I've just found 999 ways that won't work."  He also said that our greatest weakness lies in giving up.  I believe that in this age where instant gratification is becoming more and more a norm, too many people fear failure and/or give up too quickly when things don't come easily or naturally.

Failure is one of the greatest teachers that we have.  Life involves risk taking, and sometimes we succeed, sometimes we fail.  Both states are equally important.  Using yoga as an example, I can't even begin to count the number of failed attempts I've made at challenging arm balances and inversions.  I've experienced humbling face plants and worn the back of the arm bruising to attest to this fact.  However, had I not learned from my failed attempts and continued to "try just one more time",  I would never have been able to master any of those poses.  In the process, I learned things about myself, my attitude, and my body mechanics... and those things can easily be applied to other poses, and more importantly, situations.

Robert F. Kennedy said, "Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve greatly," so go forth and fail.  And when you do, get back up and try again.  The courage to continue to press on until you are successful is what matters most.

Failure is the Only Option Playlist

Road Trippin'

"All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware."

~ Martin Buber

Summer vacation often brings to mind road trips.  Miles and miles of music, chatter, snacks and unexpected stops along the way.  The destination of a road trip is the goal, but the journey is often where true adventure lies.

In life, the journey IS the destination, but as with any good road trip, we have to know in which direction to travel, how to determine the best route by using the resources we have available to us, maintain a positive attitude and sense of humor, and understand who will make the best travel companions.

As an end of summer celebration, our sangha came together for a road trip themed outdoor practice.  Many thanks to the fabulous yogi(ni)s who shared this practice with me... it was a beautiful evening of poolside pose.  Enjoy the pictures and playlist.

                                                                   

                                                                      

 

 Road Trip Playlist

Labels

Recently, while dropping my youngest child off, I noticed a pair of kindergarteners holding hands and skipping into school  Physically, the two could not have looked more different... everything from their skin and hair color, height and weight to the clothes they were wearing and their fabulous choices in lunch boxes and backpacks, each indicating a style all his/her own.  Their joy in that moment was contagious, and I suspect I was not the only carpool mom smiling at the purity of their enthusiasm as they bounded towards the building.

And it struck me...

We start out so inclusive and accepting of others, excited, engaged.  We are pure in thought and without prejudice.  Somewhere along the way, though, so many people lose their ability to focus on this concept of togetherness.  When do we begin to mistrust people who we perceive as different from us?  What makes us judge one another based on things like gender, political party, religious affiliation, ethnicity, race, sexual orientation, appearance and social status?

The truth is that we are tragically losing young people as a result of the divisive nature of labels... labels that are placed on kids, often from an early age, by other children as well as by adults, labels that are learned somewhere along the way.  We are not born with the “labeling gene”.  While we hope that we are raising our kids to know right from wrong, to be accepting and inclusive, the truth is that as adults, we do, indeed, model labeling behavior in both subtle and overt ways.  Labels bias our opinions and perceptions and have the ability to separate us, one from another.  While it’s true that labels also have the ability to connect us, it seems as though exclusivity can arise even in the most well-intentioned groups.  

W.C. Fields said, “it’s not what they call you, it’s what you answer to,” that matters.  We often buy into others’ perceptions of us which, at times, can affect our outlook and actions.  Further, we try to neatly define who we are via various labels we create for ourselves.  None of us can be linearly packaged... we are far too complicated for that.  

We must evolve.  Whether it is our own bias and judgments, others’ perceptions of us, or our self-imposed definitions, the divisive labeling has to stop.  We are more alike than different, and we, as thoughtful people, must stand up and speak up for the voiceless among us.  

Namaste is sometimes simply defined as “I honor the place in you where, when you are in that place, and I am in that place, there is only one of us.”

We are one.  Let us cultivate metta and make a difference.

Namaste.

Labels Playlist