At a time, historically, of very high anxiety it is important for me to observe myself. I turn my eyes inward or step way, way back to look at myself from a distance. I am an anthropologist making observations.
What am I thinking? Why am I thinking that? What triggered that thought? What is my body thinking? Yes, the body has thoughts, surging energies moving and settling, memories that I carry as an individual. It also holds the thoughts, experiences and memories of my ancestors.
The main advantage for me to mindfulness practice is that it gives me time.
When I attended the Yitang Buddhist Temple in Kelowna we had a practice of walking meditation. What that meant was that there was a choreographed pause during the winding stroll around the cushions. Step, Step, Step then touch the toe to the floor. The goal was to stay in touch with the ground, the earth, the source. Always the feet were in contact with support. Just in the same way, always the mind is in contact with the spirit source.
The pause was a pattern to break the pattern. It was a reminder to stop and ask, “Where am I going? What am I feeling? Am I balanced at this moment?”
Inevitably the habits of neurosis, as William James explains them, are carried in our brains. Our families, our ancestors, our society, our social cohorts deeply imprint upon the self.
Knowing that there are pieces to the self is a strong methodology of recovering the soul personality.
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I have pieces of myself that I abandoned through shutting them off because they held a memory of pain. I have pieces of myself that I have disavowed because I did not want to be flawed, human, cruel, angry. All of the elements that go into being a human being must ultimately be embraced and seen if we are to be whole.
The pieces of myself that I see in others also helps me to form a more complete image. When I see another being dismissive or arrogant, I pick up that piece and push it into place. I was taught to be arrogant and dismissive of others who did not inherit our familiy high IQ. We sat and shared stories of the “stupid others” as my family continued to self destruct and act in a manner that was angry and willingly embracing the joys of victimhood.
When I see another person who is reflecting back to me those parts of myself I refuse to see, I become irritated, critical. It is how I know that this is an area of my wounding I need to recognize and attend to.
When I see another person stand on a stage performing and my heart explodes with joy, it is the moment I know that I now have another piece of myself to put in place.
Mindfulness practice has allowed me time. The time between a thought or a quick chemical release of emotion grabs me and the time I make a choice about who I am becoming is the space where everything changes.
Each person who tells me their story teaches me about what it means to be human. Each character or protagonist that I follow in the construction of artful narrative gives me another clue about what it means to be born into a body and to walk the earth.
Mindfulness is about being open, curious and taking that pause. Balance. I check myself for balance. What am I learning from others about myself? I pick up the pieces and gently press them down into my puzzle. I find it fascinating.