Cleaning Up This House

It is relatively easy to see and decide with clear mind, not this, not that.

A whole other matter is ridding the body from the accumulated imprints of years of hindrances, left unchecked. The causes of the original tensions are long gone, but their effects linger in the stomach, in the throat, the shoulders, the neck, the jaws . . . This is when the mind needs to help the body. Being with the discomfort, and little by little releasing the long held constrictions, the clinging against, or for something. 

The cleaning-up process, the purification process I have talked about, takes place in the mind. but you will also find you need to remove some old debris that has accumulated in the body because of our psychological responses. 

Imagine a person has been living in a room for the past twenty or thirty years and has never bothered to clean it. All the leftover food, all the dirty clothes, all the rubbish that's accumulated now reaches up to the ceiling. Trying to live among that rubbish is extremely unpleasant. But the room's inhabitant doesn't even notice it, until one day a friend comes along and says, "Why don't you clean up?" So together they clean up a little corner. Then our imaginary person finds that it's far more comfortable and easy to live in that clean corner. Now they start to clean out the whole room until eventually they can look out of the windows and get a better view and also find room enough to move. Feeling more comfortable, the person can use the mind freely without having to attend to any bodily discomfort. 

The house we live in is our body. It doesn't matter how many times we move from town to country, from apartment to home, from home to a room, or even from one country to another. We takes this body with us until it completely deteriorates, decays, and becomes a heap of bones, and then only dust. Until that happens, we carry it along with us wherever we move. Its' this house that we need to make a little more spacious and at ease. 

The psychological accumulation of obstructions and blockages has been deposited by our emotional responses. Mind has put them there, so mind can also remove them. In our meditative procedure this means "knowing the feeling, not reacting, then letting go of it."

~ Ayya Khema, Being Nobody, Going Nowhere ~

Retraining the mind, and consequently the body, one moment at a time. "Knowing the feeling, not reacting [in mind, and body], then letting go of it." The big challenge as I have experienced it, is having the courage to consciously explore the dirty old house, and feel the whole unpleasantness that's attached to it. 

Body Sitting, Quiet, Being Breathed

'Body sitting, quiet, being breathed.' These words have become my mantra, as I sit, meditating. They help set the precise tone for practice, away from 'I', into the pure experience of sensing body. I also use those same words while guiding others. Ruth's words . . . I have made them my own. 

I am also very fortunate to spend much of my time in an environment filled with the embodied presence of 'Body sitting, quiet, being breathed'. When one becomes old and frail and forgetful, 'Body sitting, quiet, being breathed' gets forced upon one's way of being. 

Whenever I succumb to being too busy, sooner or later, the sight of an elder patiently sitting stops me. And I remember the spacious place where awareness reigns, outside of thoughts. How am I feeling? What is happening in the body? What am I hearing? Where is breath? Becoming reacquainted with myself. 

Every day at work, one hundred Buddha-likes to inspire me with their live images of 'Body sitting, quiet, being breathed' . . . I am so lucky.

A Useful Twist on Loving Kindness

Rereading Ayya Khema's jewel of a book, Being Nobody, Going Nowhere, I discovered a new, and very useful twist on loving kindness meditation. Right after starting to focus on the breath, and before setting the intention of loving kindness into the heart, Ayya Khema instructs us to:

Take a look into your heart and see whether there is any worry, fear, grief, dislike, resentment, rejection, uneasiness, anxiety. If you find any of those, let them float away like the black clouds that they are . . . 

This intermediate, and usually overlooked step can make all the difference between a meditation spent fighting the intended love,  and one that allows it. I have observed in myself, and also others, the difficulties in being able to directly go to a loving place. First the hindrances must be dealt with and integrated into the experience. The trouble comes from wanting to force love right away and dismissing the difficult emotions that may be present.

Now, the challenge is to 'let them float away like the black clouds that they are' . . . 

A Well Trained Teacher

The Huffington Post just published my article on the 13 Essential Tips for Dementia Caregivers, a summary for lay people about the main principles of the Presence Care approach. Here is an excerpt of the post, regarding the mindfulness practice part of the Presence Care training:

1. Start your day with a few minutes of sitting mindfulness practice, and end the same way.

Mindfulness practice, even for a few minutes a day, can reduce stress. It is also a good way to start your day from a calm, centered place, which is what your loved one needs most from you. If you're not sure how to practice, simply find a quiet place, close your eyes, sit in an alert yet relaxed posture, take a few minutes to check in with yourself and then turn your attention to your breath. Let your body breathe, and simply watch the in and out flow of your breath. You will notice thoughts and sounds coming and going. That is a normal part of the experience. When that happens, simply return to observing the breath. Sit like this for a few minutes.

2. Incorporate mindfulness into your routines: walking, doing chores, caring for loved one, etc.

The same way you were observing your breath while sitting, you can also pay attention to the sensations of your feet on the ground while walking. You can practice while walking alone or with your loved one -- the slower the better. While washing your hands, you can become aware of the sensations of the water running over your hands. While assisting your loved one with dinner, you can focus on the experience of filling up the spoon, bringing it to the person's mouth and their experience of eating. Remember, it is about being present for the experience in the moment, all of it and regardless of what it is. You may do this as often as you want throughout the day.

3. Practice recognizing and being with your emotions, including difficult ones.

When caring for someone with dementia, you are bound to experience many -- and sometimes difficult -- emotions: grief, anger, boredom, tiredness, fear, anxiety, frustration. A very powerful and simple practice is to simply acknowledge the emotion and its physical manifestations in your body. Where am I feeling it? How does it feel? What are the sensations? Also, recognize whether it is pleasant or unpleasant and feel the whole extent of the pleasantness or the unpleasantness. And when you need a break, focus your attention on the breath and watch it come and go. Lastly, identify the thoughts that come with the emotion and see where you are getting caught. Are there changes you can make in the outside world, or do you need to change your attitude?

4. Practice loving kindness for yourself, and also for your loved one.

When the fear or the anger get to be too much, mitigate with some kind energy of your own. Think about someone, something or a place that is very dear to you. Feel the love and kindness emanating from your heart and send it to yourself. While you may not "believe" in it at first, trust that it will make its way through to you eventually. You are working on rewiring your brain, and it takes time! Quietly say something like this to yourself: "May I be at peace, may I be at ease," and repeat a few times, wishing you well. You may then send that same kind energy to your loved one, this time repeating the words, "May you be at peace, may you be at ease," wishing him or her well. This is a simple yet very powerful practice if you do it often.

[ . . .  ]

What I did not mention in the article was the importance of having a teacher well trained in mindfulness practice in order for students to properly learn and integrate these practices.  With the popularity of mindfulness-based classes of all sorts growing, the risk of being taught by persons with a wrong or superficial  understanding of practice is also on the rise. For instance, the fact that an MBSR teacher has undergone the MBSR teacher practicum is no guarantee that that person has properly understood practice. I have met quite a few people who have come out of an MBSR program with a false impression of what it's like to do sitting meditation.  

Retreating With Ruth

For some time now, I have felt the need to retreat. Giving mind the space to decant, and drop below its habitual chatter. 

Today, I took action and registered for Ruth Denison's upcoming Fall Women's Retreat at Dhamma Dena. Ruth is getting old, and I want to benefit from her deep wisdom, one more time. She is a living treasure not to be missed while she is still living.

Here she is, chanting and sharing with us during last year's retreat:

You would never know she was in great physical pain that day . . . 

The Heart Does Not Forget

A few months ago, when I first met Alberto, I used to sit with him and do all the talking, mostly about small things, who I was, his nice shirt, the weather, the food on his plate . . . All I could get from him were a few occasional nods, and on good days, some yes or no's. In Alberto's chart, it said he had schizophrenia and Alzheimer's. He understood English but preferred to speak in Spanish, and he could hardly see, only the contour of people's faces. 

Alberto always sits in the same chair by the dining room window, where the noises from the busy street can be heard loud and clear. 

Talking to his nephew, I discovered that Alberto had learned French during his childhood, back in Peru. When I saw him next, he echoed my "Bonjour" and seemed to perk up as I ventured a few French words here and there. "Comment ca va?" got me "Comme ci, comme ca".  Alberto stared at me, and I asked if he could see me. "Just the shape of your hair." We parted with mutual "Au revoir"s and I left for ten days. A long time for someone who is not supposed to remember. 

On my first day back, I stopped by the first floor dining room, to check in with another resident. "Bonjour!" Sitting nearby, was Alberto welcoming back. We started talking and Alberto wanted to know "Quel age avez vous?" I was thrilled to oblige him, and in turn asked about his age. "Quatre vingt deux ans". 

Alberto sitting still, gazing at my face. I tell him I have to go now and I will see him again soon. Someone else wants my attention and I forget about Alberto. 

"Au revoir". Alberto catches me as I exit the room. 

Forgetfulness is a relative notion, that affects only certain parts of the brain, and certainly not the heart. 

No Words to Get in the Way

He and I exchange very few words. He, even less than I. Yet, there is no doubt about the love between us. Yesterday when I came up to his floor, I found him alone and sitting at an empty table. "Dr. Bob, Dr. Bob", I whispered. He kept his head down, for a while. I waited, kneeling down by his side. 

Body being breathed, I honed in on the rhythm, and watched mind empty itself of expectations. There was space, lots of it.

Dr. Bob lifted his head up, and turned towards me. "Dr. Bob, it's me, Marguerite." His eyes and mine locked. I let him know "I am happy to see you", and smiled. Dr. Bob smiled back and let out a raspy "Yes." He motioned to grab my hand and squeezed it with much feeling. 

Being with Dr. Bob reminds me of the times when I have been on silent retreats, and of the close bonds formed with other fellow retreatants, most of them strangers, without even exchanging a word. 

We should all be more like Dr. Bob. Less talking, more heart.