This has been a week of change. Exiting my home for the last time. Traveling from New Mexico to California. Embracing nomadic life more fully than before. As I paused mid-week to connect with a fellow meditation student, I received a remarkable gift of awareness.
A Meditation Dyad
I had a meditation dyad with a classmate in my meditation teacher training this week. In a dyad, you meet in a pair, taking turns guiding each other in meditation. We explored a technique we learned from Richard Miller, which he calls “Welcoming.” Normally, when I meditate, my practice is similar to the Zen practice of Zazen, or “just sitting.” I sit and clear my mind. When thoughts arise, I let them pass through unexamined.
This practice has done wonders for my ability to calm myself. It’s improved my mindfulness and presence. It’s helped me release attachments. However, there is a danger to this practice. Taken to the extreme, this practice can lead to avoidance. The strategy most of us use when dealing with stress, consciously or unconsciously, is suppression. We “fake it until we make it.” An overemphasis on “just sitting” can result in a more elegant suppression. We are calm and present. We are unattached to outcomes. But we may be ignoring emotions and sensations that deserve exploration.
As my partner led me through this welcoming practice, I settled in and then explored the sensations that arose. I recognized a tightness in my chest. In my normal practice, I’d have let that tightness dissipate, resting in open awareness. Instead, I welcomed the tightness. I explored it. There was a band across the center of my chest, roughly the size of a rearview mirror, that felt tight. It was mild, but it was there. Rather than dismiss it, I fed it energy. I allowed it to grow more intense. As I did this, I recognized the source of this tightness.
Anxiety.
Anxiety that I have been suppressing. I’ve just uprooted my entire world for the second time. The only plan I have is not to make one. There is so much uncertainty ahead of me. Of course I’m anxious. How could I not be? And yet, it’s become my personal brand to be calm, centered, and at ease. And so, I haven’t been giving this anxiety a place.
The Opposite
The technique we used next was welcoming the opposite. I hold the term “opposite” loosely. Our thinking mind can take over here, trying to determine what the precise opposite is for whatever we’re sensing. That isn’t the point. The point is to shift your perspective.
Historically, my anxiety-shifting move has been to relabel that anxiety as excitement. I remember my sister reminding me of this as I waited for the start of the Boston Marathon. That shift helped me be fully present and enjoy the race.
I knew that wasn’t the “opposite” I was looking for this time. What organically arose for me was curiosity. What does it feel like to approach this great unknown with curiosity?
I experienced curiosity as a thick liquid, starting at the top of my head and slowly flowing down, coating my entire body. It reminded me of an old Pepto Bismol commercial where the pink liquid flows down the throat and coats the stomach, only this liquid coated my entire body. I was in a cocoon of curiosity. I felt open. Inquisitive. Eager to see what will come next.
What made this shift so powerful was the embodied nature of each sensation. Anxiety lives in my body. It lives in my chest. I’ve known this, but I don’t always pay attention to it. Embodying curiosity was new. The visualization of a soft coating of curiosity surrounding my whole body powerfully shifted my perspective.
Integration
The third step in the meditation process was taught to us as something our thinking brain can’t do. I shifted back and forth between anxiety and curiosity, and then, I was guided to hold both states at the same time. What is it like to be in anxiety and curiosity simultaneously?
The rearview mirror-sized section of my chest became a window, allowing anxiety to see through to the outside world, while the rest of my body remained coated in curiosity. I had merged the two metaphors into an integrated state.
This had been taught as something difficult to do, but in fact, integration was a key piece of learning from my neuroscience coach education with BEabove Leadership. One of their coaching tools explains the left and right hemispheres of the brain, and how to integrate them rather than leaning heavily to one hemisphere or the other.
As the meditation continued, anxiety and curiosity spontaneously left my body, taking up human forms on either side of me. I could walk the world supported by both anxiety on my left, helping me identify potential issues, and curiosity on my right, examining those issues in a calm, open manner. They worked in partnership, not at odds.
Putting It Into Practice
Take some time to explore what you are suppressing in your life. I recommend enlisting a trusted friend or guide for this exercise. If you unearth something unexpectedly heavy, consider working with a therapist to continue your exploration.
Sit quietly, center yourself, and open up to sensation. Find it in your body. Let it breathe.
Ask this sensation why it’s here. What does it want to tell you?
Identify an opposite sensation or feeling that shifts your perspective. What does that opposite feel like? Where does it live in your body? What does it want to tell you?
You can find a guided meditation by Richard Miller on YouTube that takes you through this technique.
Tales of Wanderment
Last week, I was in Santa Fe. Today, I’m in California, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. I spent a year at altitude, both physically and spiritually, and now I’ve descended 7,000 feet in elevation. I find it magical that my overnight stop on my travels west was Kingman, Arizona, which sits at 3,300 feet of elevation. A halfway point in more ways than one.
Athletes train at elevation for the boost they get when racing at lower elevations. What will a year of spiritual training in the lands of O’gha Po’oge yield as I resume my nomadic travels?
The Universe nudged me to squeeze in a show in Hollywood this weekend, seeing a musician who is also a spiritual guide. It was an evening of transition, shedding energies that no longer served as I entered into this next step of the journey. The guide offered three messages:
- Embrace the feminine fire
- Laughter strengthens joy
- Don’t swim against the tides
The third message resonated deeply, as it speaks to wu wei and effortless action, which I’ve been swimming in lately. And the next morning, the other two messages came to light.
I recognize the feminine energy within me and know it is, in large part, due to the transformation my mother underwent during my childhood. She spoke at her church yesterday as Nurse Sparkle, sharing her life story and her clown journey. I wept tears of joy listening to her own story of feminine fire and, once again, seeing how she brings joy to so many others through her gift of clowning and laughter. For some laughter, check out her opening message. If you’d like to hear her full story, it starts here.
I am an executive coach and consciousness coach with software executive roots in higher education and EdTech. I coach because I love helping others accelerate their growth as leaders and humans. I frequently write about #management, #leadership, #coaching, #neuroscience, and #arete.
If you would like to learn more, schedule time with me.