I have had a lifetime of experiencing sleepiness and general fatigue. I don't know if it could be officially labeled chronic fatigue, but it has been there forever. Generally, I need 9 or more hours a sleep a night, and still often felt fatigued throughout the day. Waking up is hard for me. As a kid I slept more than the other kids. In college, I couldn't do the all-nighters that my friends could. As an adult, I sleep as much as my kids do.
Some days, I am tired when I wake up, and stay tired the rest of the day.
After giving up caffeine, alcohol, and high fructose corn syrup, which all helped for a while, I still struggle with fatigue. High fats and high carbs probably also contribute. Although I don't think I generally eat enough fat or carbs to warrant the amount of fatigue I experience.
For a while, I shifted my sleeping schedule, thinking that if I slept in, and stayed up late, I would be on more on target with what my body wants to do. Still, I slept 9-10 hours a night (or wanted to) and felt groggy throughout the day.
So, I decided to just accept it. I sleep a lot.
But boy, sleeping a lot, and being tired a lot, means not getting a while heck of a lot done. I would find that the glorious days I wasn't tired, I'd try to cram all the things I didn't do during all those days I was tired. Again, accepted myself and this was how I worked. Although I have to admit, every once in a while, would be annoyed with myself for being so tired.
Then, I read about the Sleepless Elite. These are people who only need a few hours of sleep a night, and have a ton of energy. A friend of mine in college was this way. I was secretly jealous of him.
It got me curious, and I started looking into different sleep patterns and research (mainly trying to see if long sleeping and furiously vivid and emotional dreams meant that I had a brain tumor or if I should expect an impending heart attack. Despite my earnest attempt to find this connection, none could be found, even on the internet.)
Through this research, though, I discovered something better - polyphasic sleep. The theory goes, that REM is really the only kind of sleep we need. Normally, a sleep cycle takes about 90 minutes to get into and through a REM state. If we can train our bodies to go right into REM sleep, we'd only need 15-20 minutes of sleep 6 times a day. This is the most extreme version of polyphasic sleep, called the Uberman's Sleep Schedule.
Polyphasic sleep was not something I could try, seeing that I have kids and responsibilities and all, and apparently I'm not the only one. People indicated that finding times to take regular naps in a typical American life, is next to impossible. In addition, making the transition to an Uberman's sleep schedule is taxing on the body. What about considering a milder form of plyphasic sleep, sleeping 3-7 hours a night, and adding naps? If Ben Franklin and Thomas Jefferson could do it, so could I!
Apparently, a lot of people have successfully adopted a biphasic or triphasic sleep pattern, reducing their sleep needs by 1-3 hours a night. There is even a Google group dedicated to talking about sleep patterns.
After much research, I decided to try the "easy" biphasic sleep pattern - 7 hours a night, and one 30 min. nap. That would reduce my sleeping by about 2 hours. And what's the worst thing that could happen? I'd be sleepy? Well, I was already sleepy.
I've been sleeping this way for about three weeks now. I sleep from about midnight to 7, and then generally stay in bed for another 30 minutes to an hour, but I'm not sleeping. Meditating, thinking about my dreams, generally getting mentally ready for the day. But some days, I do wake up at 7 or soon after. Then, in the afternoon, I take a 30 min nap, whether I'm tired or not.
Overall, I'm less sleepy and fatigued during the day. And I am awake and out of bed a solid hour longer than before. I'm also learning, slowly, how to wake up with the alarm by the daily naps I take, so it's easier to get up in the morning, too.
I'm slowly going to work my way to being in bed only 7 hours. Now that I have the nap as part of my daily routine, I know that if I wake up and I'm tired, that I can take a nap later, and it's easier to get going.
I like this new schedule better. In general, my dreams are less intense, I have less insomnia during the night, and I'm not as tired during the day. It's not an enormous difference, but a noticeable one. And, even though I'm sleeping less, I'm not any more tired than before.
So what have I been doing with that extra hour or two? I've been able to find time to meditate. I couldn't find time before, and didn't want to, because I was too fatigued. Now, I get a nap and a meditation in most days - and a workout, several days a week, too. So far, this schedule is working out great for me, and I'm slowly starting to feel like I'm no longer a "long sleeper."
Showing posts with label Meditation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Meditation. Show all posts
April 25, 2011
February 3, 2011
The Challenge of Taming the Mind
One of the daily challenges of Zen for me is not allowing my ego mind to take over. It's constantly pushing at me - think this, think that, this is VERY important. I give in often.
When I don't give in, I feel like I'm fighting myself. Even when I let the thoughts flow in then out, labeling them and letting them go, and being mindful of my attachment to them, it feels like a battle I wage where I am on the defensive.
These thoughts are always there. Always. Even when I am sleeping, in my nightly vivid dreams, my thoughts are a wild animal who has hurt itself and is thrashing and screaming to get away from the pain.
No matter how calm and gentle and compassionate we are to a wild animal in pain, it thrashes, and it can hurt us.
That's how I feel with my mind. Some days, the animal of thoughts is calmer, not so insistent, distracted or numbed by something, and the thoughts don't come as often. But other days, the pain is very real, and my head seems so small a place for them to be contained, pushing against the sides.
I breathe, I practice mindfulness, I meditate (as best I can with three kids and constant distractions), and yet, the wild animal is still in pain.
These thoughts aren't anything unusual. "I can't believe that happened," "What am I going to do about X," "I hurt so and so, how can I fix it?" "So and so is hurting me, how can I make them stop?" Things pop up from my past, dreams for the future, all of it is just normal stuff. Nothing above and beyond what I imagine any other engaged human being would think about.
Yet, they are constant. That's the tough part. I gently move them over in my mind to breathe and there they are again. And back again. And back again. I would really rather think about something else, thank you.
But, what is that "else" I want to think about? Is there anything else that I can think about that won't be painful? Even things that seem pleasant to think about are matched with the pain of knowing that pleasant thing will soon end. The pleasant things are fantasies, not reality.
One of my skills is to look at a problem in its entirety and then find the most satisfactory solution. I am also skilled at taking one idea and connecting it to another, finding parallels, metaphors, and how one thing affects another. That skill is also a curse, because thoughts and mindfulness is one thing that I can't really understand or see from far enough away to get a grasp on what the problem even is. I grasp and try to explain it, solve it, get more information about it. It doesn't work. The more I try to figure it out, the harder a problem it becomes.
Why can I not tame my mind? I think, it's because, I'm trying to tame my mind.
These past couple of days have been emotionally draining for me. Nothing specific is going on in my life to cause it. In fact, my internal struggle is probably because nothing is happening to distract me so my emotions are bubbling up and the wild animal is asking for attention. My emotions have been rolling around in my body, tensing my muscles, squeezing my brain. What do I do? What do I do? I vacillate between being emotionally paralyzed and wanting to let it all out, just to take a break, for a moment, from the wild animal jumping inside my head.
This morning, I was drawn to my horoscope, which some would say is pointless. Although many of my horoscopes are surprisingly accurate, today's wasn't. Pretty pointless. But for some reason, I wanted to read my husband's. His, too, was pointless.
On the same page, however, was an invitation to ask a question and get three answers from the tarot.
This is a random event. I know it. It's like the lottery. But I did it anyway. This is what happened.
All three of these responses were dead on. The very three things my mind has been throwing at me have been - "where do I go now in my professional life and should I reinvent myself to do something else?", "I want to let go of the relationships that have been toxic to me, and focus my attention on the loving relationships," and "I am so lucky to be able to have what I have, why can I not enjoy it and just be OK with the opportunities I have?"
It was so dead on, I was inspired to write this post. It's no wonder my mind is shouting at me right now. I'm in the middle of change. Of something happening. Of life renewing. I'm at the doorway to the future. There's a lot of adjusting going on.
In fact, it's always this way. I'm always at this place, so it makes sense, that any given day, there's a chance the wild animal will start to resist the change, cry out for relief, and push me into my old ways. That's how it is. That's just how it is.
Realizing this doesn't tame my mind, but instead, sets it free. When those thoughts come, they aren't me, they are the ego trying to hold on to the past, trying to hold on to the old ways, trying to resist.
Taming the mind - is it possible? Perhaps so. But perhaps the only way to do it, is by not trying to tame it at all. Maybe that's what the dharma teachers mean when they tout the importance of being in the now, and mindfulness.
When I don't give in, I feel like I'm fighting myself. Even when I let the thoughts flow in then out, labeling them and letting them go, and being mindful of my attachment to them, it feels like a battle I wage where I am on the defensive.
These thoughts are always there. Always. Even when I am sleeping, in my nightly vivid dreams, my thoughts are a wild animal who has hurt itself and is thrashing and screaming to get away from the pain.
No matter how calm and gentle and compassionate we are to a wild animal in pain, it thrashes, and it can hurt us.
That's how I feel with my mind. Some days, the animal of thoughts is calmer, not so insistent, distracted or numbed by something, and the thoughts don't come as often. But other days, the pain is very real, and my head seems so small a place for them to be contained, pushing against the sides.
I breathe, I practice mindfulness, I meditate (as best I can with three kids and constant distractions), and yet, the wild animal is still in pain.
These thoughts aren't anything unusual. "I can't believe that happened," "What am I going to do about X," "I hurt so and so, how can I fix it?" "So and so is hurting me, how can I make them stop?" Things pop up from my past, dreams for the future, all of it is just normal stuff. Nothing above and beyond what I imagine any other engaged human being would think about.
Yet, they are constant. That's the tough part. I gently move them over in my mind to breathe and there they are again. And back again. And back again. I would really rather think about something else, thank you.
But, what is that "else" I want to think about? Is there anything else that I can think about that won't be painful? Even things that seem pleasant to think about are matched with the pain of knowing that pleasant thing will soon end. The pleasant things are fantasies, not reality.
One of my skills is to look at a problem in its entirety and then find the most satisfactory solution. I am also skilled at taking one idea and connecting it to another, finding parallels, metaphors, and how one thing affects another. That skill is also a curse, because thoughts and mindfulness is one thing that I can't really understand or see from far enough away to get a grasp on what the problem even is. I grasp and try to explain it, solve it, get more information about it. It doesn't work. The more I try to figure it out, the harder a problem it becomes.
Why can I not tame my mind? I think, it's because, I'm trying to tame my mind.
These past couple of days have been emotionally draining for me. Nothing specific is going on in my life to cause it. In fact, my internal struggle is probably because nothing is happening to distract me so my emotions are bubbling up and the wild animal is asking for attention. My emotions have been rolling around in my body, tensing my muscles, squeezing my brain. What do I do? What do I do? I vacillate between being emotionally paralyzed and wanting to let it all out, just to take a break, for a moment, from the wild animal jumping inside my head.
This morning, I was drawn to my horoscope, which some would say is pointless. Although many of my horoscopes are surprisingly accurate, today's wasn't. Pretty pointless. But for some reason, I wanted to read my husband's. His, too, was pointless.
On the same page, however, was an invitation to ask a question and get three answers from the tarot.
This is a random event. I know it. It's like the lottery. But I did it anyway. This is what happened.
I asked: Why can I not tame my mind?
It answered:
The Empress
You are reinventing yourself to create a better fit with your chosen profession.
Four of Cups
Celebrate friendships and close companions.
The Hierophant
The abundance you enjoy allows you the freedom to be yourself.
All three of these responses were dead on. The very three things my mind has been throwing at me have been - "where do I go now in my professional life and should I reinvent myself to do something else?", "I want to let go of the relationships that have been toxic to me, and focus my attention on the loving relationships," and "I am so lucky to be able to have what I have, why can I not enjoy it and just be OK with the opportunities I have?"
It was so dead on, I was inspired to write this post. It's no wonder my mind is shouting at me right now. I'm in the middle of change. Of something happening. Of life renewing. I'm at the doorway to the future. There's a lot of adjusting going on.
In fact, it's always this way. I'm always at this place, so it makes sense, that any given day, there's a chance the wild animal will start to resist the change, cry out for relief, and push me into my old ways. That's how it is. That's just how it is.
Realizing this doesn't tame my mind, but instead, sets it free. When those thoughts come, they aren't me, they are the ego trying to hold on to the past, trying to hold on to the old ways, trying to resist.
Taming the mind - is it possible? Perhaps so. But perhaps the only way to do it, is by not trying to tame it at all. Maybe that's what the dharma teachers mean when they tout the importance of being in the now, and mindfulness.
October 2, 2010
Confused Buddhist
One of the practices of Zen is to be mindful of our emotions. Not to hold on to them, but not deny them either.
What do I do if I can't even tell what emotion it is I'm feeling through all the confusion?
There are no words to describe what's going on in my body right now in reaction to an emotionally disturbing event. It's a weird mix of fear, disappointment, insecurity, pain, freedom, relief, disbelief, grief, compassion, hope, and defensiveness.
As I try to be mindful, and just let the feelings be, I don't have any clue what to do with them. They hover there, can't sit still, hopping all over the place.
I would levitate on my pillow if they moved underneath me.
I don't want to them to go away necessarily, but I do have the desire to understand them. Perhaps, this is a positive experience for me to practice not having to even understand the emotions, simply to let them be.
I've never had this experience before. Usually when I feel an emotion, it's clearly one or two things, easy to identify, easy to park on an imaginary platform 5 feet away and meditate on. Maybe this huge mess of emotions is a sign of growth, and an opportunity to have compassion for myself and what I feel. Perhaps it's a sign that I am no longer using self-created mind tricks to divide up my emotions into little categories so I can control them, that my practice of being in the in between places has an effect.
Or maybe this way of looking at my confusion is just another way to convince myself that right now is OK. Maybe right now I'm not OK, and that's simply how it is. Until I'm OK again, I need to be, and let myself be uneasy and emotional, so I can have compassion for others when it's their turn to experience something like this.
What do I do if I can't even tell what emotion it is I'm feeling through all the confusion?
There are no words to describe what's going on in my body right now in reaction to an emotionally disturbing event. It's a weird mix of fear, disappointment, insecurity, pain, freedom, relief, disbelief, grief, compassion, hope, and defensiveness.
As I try to be mindful, and just let the feelings be, I don't have any clue what to do with them. They hover there, can't sit still, hopping all over the place.
I would levitate on my pillow if they moved underneath me.
I don't want to them to go away necessarily, but I do have the desire to understand them. Perhaps, this is a positive experience for me to practice not having to even understand the emotions, simply to let them be.
I've never had this experience before. Usually when I feel an emotion, it's clearly one or two things, easy to identify, easy to park on an imaginary platform 5 feet away and meditate on. Maybe this huge mess of emotions is a sign of growth, and an opportunity to have compassion for myself and what I feel. Perhaps it's a sign that I am no longer using self-created mind tricks to divide up my emotions into little categories so I can control them, that my practice of being in the in between places has an effect.
Or maybe this way of looking at my confusion is just another way to convince myself that right now is OK. Maybe right now I'm not OK, and that's simply how it is. Until I'm OK again, I need to be, and let myself be uneasy and emotional, so I can have compassion for others when it's their turn to experience something like this.
August 20, 2008
Zen Practice and Medication
The practice of Zazen and Zen Buddhism shouldn't "take a break" while we're sick, or having a rough time, or even when we're having a great time. Its very nature exists all the time. Yet, I've been grappling with it for the past couple of months due to some medication that I've been prescribed.
The medication has changed me. And it makes me wonder what the whole point of zazen and meditation is when we can simply take a pill, and well, we're different. What is this "me" that has changed? And if I'm so easily chemically manipulated, what's the point of making effort be awake?
Another side effect of the medication is that it sometimes makes it very hard to concentrate, and sometimes I get dizzy and disoriented. It almost feels like being drunk or high.
One of the tenets of zen buddhism is to avoid substances like alcohol and drugs, which alter our perceptions. Yet, I have to take these drugs, prescribed by a doctor, which do that very thing. How can I think clearly and be present when I've been altered?
I've been grappling with this, like a zen koan. There is no answer. The question itself has been my meditation practice for the past month. When I'm driving or walking or simply sitting, I breathe, and go around and around without end on this question - does taking personality altering medication effect my zen practice?
My zafu pillow is lonely. My yoga mat is starting to gather dust. My bed pillow is getting a permanent dent in the middle. Pre and post sleep are my meditation times, when my body is too tired to move, yet my mind is spinning and floating in a semi-awake haze. I breathe, and relax, and let the medication do its work.
There is something to be learned from this, but I don't know what. I continue to breathe and bring myself as much as I can to the present moment. And when it's all over, perhaps, I'll be able to see the path I have tread, and understand then where I my experiences were leading me.
The medication has changed me. And it makes me wonder what the whole point of zazen and meditation is when we can simply take a pill, and well, we're different. What is this "me" that has changed? And if I'm so easily chemically manipulated, what's the point of making effort be awake?
Another side effect of the medication is that it sometimes makes it very hard to concentrate, and sometimes I get dizzy and disoriented. It almost feels like being drunk or high.
One of the tenets of zen buddhism is to avoid substances like alcohol and drugs, which alter our perceptions. Yet, I have to take these drugs, prescribed by a doctor, which do that very thing. How can I think clearly and be present when I've been altered?
I've been grappling with this, like a zen koan. There is no answer. The question itself has been my meditation practice for the past month. When I'm driving or walking or simply sitting, I breathe, and go around and around without end on this question - does taking personality altering medication effect my zen practice?
My zafu pillow is lonely. My yoga mat is starting to gather dust. My bed pillow is getting a permanent dent in the middle. Pre and post sleep are my meditation times, when my body is too tired to move, yet my mind is spinning and floating in a semi-awake haze. I breathe, and relax, and let the medication do its work.
There is something to be learned from this, but I don't know what. I continue to breathe and bring myself as much as I can to the present moment. And when it's all over, perhaps, I'll be able to see the path I have tread, and understand then where I my experiences were leading me.
December 12, 2007
Not Sitting, Too Much Babbling
I've missed three weeks of sitting. Perhaps not coincidentally, I've spent the last three weeks not writing much. I've also spent way too much time babbling.
I say babbling because I'm finding it harder to let there be silence, so I fill it with just saying anything. When I'm sitting often, I get used to the silence. It doesn't bug me as much.
It's been cold. Getting out at 7am hasn't exactly been an exciting prospect. I do miss sitting though. I miss the half hour of silence. I also like my sleep and my warm bed. It's a tough call to decide which is better for my overall well being.
I say babbling because I'm finding it harder to let there be silence, so I fill it with just saying anything. When I'm sitting often, I get used to the silence. It doesn't bug me as much.
It's been cold. Getting out at 7am hasn't exactly been an exciting prospect. I do miss sitting though. I miss the half hour of silence. I also like my sleep and my warm bed. It's a tough call to decide which is better for my overall well being.
November 25, 2007
American Zen
Punk rocker Zen priest, Brad Warner, does things differently. Back to basics - just sit. Stripped down to its basic elements, that's the kind of Buddhism that speaks to me. I suppose, it's the same with almost all religions.
And, I like his book titles: Sit Down and Shut Up and Hardcore Zen.
And, I like his book titles: Sit Down and Shut Up and Hardcore Zen.
November 21, 2007
Sitting and Sleeping - Zazen Meditation at 7am
I've been diligently attending my 7am Tuesday Zazen sitting and walking meditation.
Oh, how hard it is to get up that early. To shower, eat and be there by 7. In order to sit. And do nothing.
I love doing nothing. It's one of my favorite things to do. I think that's why I enjoy driving so much. I can do nothing, and it's expected. I don't feel the least bit guilty about not doing dishes.
Doing nothing at 7am. That's rough. When I get to the yoga studio, I'm still asleep.
Surprisingly, I don't feel like I'm going to fall asleep during Zazen. I'm OK all the way through, go through my normal Zazen mantras, counting, breathing, etc. Then I come home. Where the couch calls me. And I succumb to the Siren's call.
It's not like there's a better time to meditate. If I don't do it at 7, it won't get done. And, isn't part of the whole purpose of practice, making a decision to be dedicated and doing it even when I don't feel like it?
Maybe, maybe not. But I keep going. And keep sitting.
Oh, how hard it is to get up that early. To shower, eat and be there by 7. In order to sit. And do nothing.
I love doing nothing. It's one of my favorite things to do. I think that's why I enjoy driving so much. I can do nothing, and it's expected. I don't feel the least bit guilty about not doing dishes.
Doing nothing at 7am. That's rough. When I get to the yoga studio, I'm still asleep.
Surprisingly, I don't feel like I'm going to fall asleep during Zazen. I'm OK all the way through, go through my normal Zazen mantras, counting, breathing, etc. Then I come home. Where the couch calls me. And I succumb to the Siren's call.
It's not like there's a better time to meditate. If I don't do it at 7, it won't get done. And, isn't part of the whole purpose of practice, making a decision to be dedicated and doing it even when I don't feel like it?
Maybe, maybe not. But I keep going. And keep sitting.
November 5, 2007
Still Sitting
Oh, and I'm still sitting. Just on Tuesdays. 7am is just so early in the morning. I can't do it twice a week. Once a week sitting, and a couple times a month going to church - this is turning out to be a good gentle way to remind me of how much I enjoy spiritual practice and thought. And to remember to not get caught up in all the crap of everyday life. It's all just stuff. Don't sweat the small stuff and it's all small stuff.
I also enjoy having a place where I can actually talk about religion and spirituality and not feel like I'm putting a big target on my forehead. My neighbor also invited me to join her in the next week or two at her weekly spirituality group. She's in a similar place as me - leaning towards the zen of things, yet still very Western and not dogmatic about anything, even zen. So I might join her, if it's not too much time away from the family.
Sitting, thinking, talking, being together. It's all good.
I also enjoy having a place where I can actually talk about religion and spirituality and not feel like I'm putting a big target on my forehead. My neighbor also invited me to join her in the next week or two at her weekly spirituality group. She's in a similar place as me - leaning towards the zen of things, yet still very Western and not dogmatic about anything, even zen. So I might join her, if it's not too much time away from the family.
Sitting, thinking, talking, being together. It's all good.
October 17, 2007
Sitting Together in Silence
Yesterday, I had my first collective meditative experience.
I'd been considering joining a meditation group for a while. Things kept getting in the way. I figured, when the time was right, the universe would send me an opportunity - so long as I kept my mind open to the possibilities.
In the pursuit of a local yoga class that started early enough in the morning that I could go and come back before my husband left for work, I stumbled upon a zen meditation session. It was being offered during the exact time frame that I hoped to find a yoga class.
So I did the zen meditation instead of yoga. I was cold, it was dark still and it had been many months since I had sat for more than 5 minutes in a row. I fidgeted, and I had an itchy nose.
But I sat. And sat and sat. For 30 min. Then we did a 5 min. walking meditation. And then chanted the heart sutra.
I didn't feel miraculously better afterwards. Or like I was suddenly transplanted to another plan of calmness. But it felt... right. Like I belonged there. I immediately got along with everyone. And I can see how doing this on a regular basis will be good practice for me. It will reinforce my habit for mindfulness and peace. And give me a place to practice my sitting where I don't have to wrench time from my family.
I think the hardest part of being patient is letting go of the value of time. There is only now. I'm just starting to really understand what that means, after years of believing it and saying it and trying to live it. It's a lesson I'm learning slowly. But I am learning. I don't know if I'll ever stop learning.
I'd been considering joining a meditation group for a while. Things kept getting in the way. I figured, when the time was right, the universe would send me an opportunity - so long as I kept my mind open to the possibilities.
In the pursuit of a local yoga class that started early enough in the morning that I could go and come back before my husband left for work, I stumbled upon a zen meditation session. It was being offered during the exact time frame that I hoped to find a yoga class.
So I did the zen meditation instead of yoga. I was cold, it was dark still and it had been many months since I had sat for more than 5 minutes in a row. I fidgeted, and I had an itchy nose.
But I sat. And sat and sat. For 30 min. Then we did a 5 min. walking meditation. And then chanted the heart sutra.
I didn't feel miraculously better afterwards. Or like I was suddenly transplanted to another plan of calmness. But it felt... right. Like I belonged there. I immediately got along with everyone. And I can see how doing this on a regular basis will be good practice for me. It will reinforce my habit for mindfulness and peace. And give me a place to practice my sitting where I don't have to wrench time from my family.
I think the hardest part of being patient is letting go of the value of time. There is only now. I'm just starting to really understand what that means, after years of believing it and saying it and trying to live it. It's a lesson I'm learning slowly. But I am learning. I don't know if I'll ever stop learning.
March 25, 2007
The Burden of Guilt
I'm a guilt-ful person, and it drags me down. I read a quote today that put it into perspective for me:
And that's exactly what I do. Throw rocks of guilt on my own back to carry around with me.
My coping mechanism is to not think about the things that make me regret. But, what I want to learn to do, is to look back at those things I did and not be attached to them. Not to have a visceral reaction; not have the instinct to immediately run away.
The blog I got this quote from suggests meditation. What do you think? Does meditation or prayer help one become accepting, and let go of guilt? Anything you have done in your life, or a perspective you've taken to put the rocks back down, instead of bearing their weight?
Carrying guilt around in our minds is like hiking up a mountain and picking up every rock we stub our toe upon and throwing it in our backpack.
And that's exactly what I do. Throw rocks of guilt on my own back to carry around with me.
My coping mechanism is to not think about the things that make me regret. But, what I want to learn to do, is to look back at those things I did and not be attached to them. Not to have a visceral reaction; not have the instinct to immediately run away.
The blog I got this quote from suggests meditation. What do you think? Does meditation or prayer help one become accepting, and let go of guilt? Anything you have done in your life, or a perspective you've taken to put the rocks back down, instead of bearing their weight?
March 20, 2007
Meditation with Buddhism
First, Buddhism without meditation, now, meditation without Buddhism.
Funny enough, I find myself nodding my head to both, and identifying with both.
How is that possible? I've been doing some research into quantum physics
. Deepak Chopra
talks about it in several of his books. And at first, it seems totally unrelated to religion, philosophy and the human condition. But if an atom can exist in two places at once, or if it can be in two parallel universes at once, and that became our understanding of reality, how much easier it would be for us to accept that our own reality can exist right along side someone else's reality even though it seems to be in a totally different plane of existence.
Funny enough, I find myself nodding my head to both, and identifying with both.
How is that possible? I've been doing some research into quantum physics
. Deepak Chopra talks about it in several of his books. And at first, it seems totally unrelated to religion, philosophy and the human condition. But if an atom can exist in two places at once, or if it can be in two parallel universes at once, and that became our understanding of reality, how much easier it would be for us to accept that our own reality can exist right along side someone else's reality even though it seems to be in a totally different plane of existence.
February 27, 2007
Listening to Our Dreams
I'm a dreamer. I find my dreams reflect what's going on in my life, both practically and emotionally.
I dream about the things I did, the things I want to do, and the things I'm afraid to do. I dream about the things I've felt, the things I want to feel, and the things I'm afraid to feel.
I remember at least one dream every morning. Sometimes, I remember many. When my sleep is not solid, I remember dozens. I have recurring dreams, and dreams that stay with me all day after I wake up.
I listen to my dreams. I think it tells me about who I am. But the trick is not to get caught up in them. It's easy to do, much like it's easy to get caught up in my self-talk.
I used to have insomnia. I'd fall asleep fine at first. Then I'd wake up at 3 or 4 and wouldn't be able to go back to sleep for up to two hours. When morning finally came, I was exhausted.
Sometimes, my dreams wake me up in the middle of the night, and they have hijacked all rational thought. I'm convinced an alien is in the house, or my children are going to sleepwalk into the street.
One day, when I was awake in the middle of the night, I realized it was the perfect time to meditate. I didn't have anything at all to distract me. It was quiet. I had all the time in the world. I was going to be awake and potentially freaked out, I might as well take advantage to alone time.
Since I made that decision, I haven't had any insomnia. Not even once.
I would count my breaths, or chant a mantra in my head, with the acceptance of sleep or staying awake. Either way was fine. I am rarely awake more than twenty minutes or so.
I realized that my dreams were making my inner dialog run unrestrained, and it was my thoughts - my fears - that were keeping me awake. And my biggest fear was that I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Once I took away that expectation - that worry - sleep came much easier. And in the meantime, I got to have some precious quiet alone time that I hardly find time for.
My dreams used to haunt me. Meditation by counting breaths has made a difference in teaching me to disattach from my dreams, while at the same time being fully aware and accepting of their content.
Dreams have a lot to say about who I am, and where my life currently is. Being able to step away and look at them with a bit of distance is a great way to listen to them. And make sense of them. And it's a great way to get back to sleep in the middle of the night.
I dream about the things I did, the things I want to do, and the things I'm afraid to do. I dream about the things I've felt, the things I want to feel, and the things I'm afraid to feel.
I remember at least one dream every morning. Sometimes, I remember many. When my sleep is not solid, I remember dozens. I have recurring dreams, and dreams that stay with me all day after I wake up.
I listen to my dreams. I think it tells me about who I am. But the trick is not to get caught up in them. It's easy to do, much like it's easy to get caught up in my self-talk.
I used to have insomnia. I'd fall asleep fine at first. Then I'd wake up at 3 or 4 and wouldn't be able to go back to sleep for up to two hours. When morning finally came, I was exhausted.
Sometimes, my dreams wake me up in the middle of the night, and they have hijacked all rational thought. I'm convinced an alien is in the house, or my children are going to sleepwalk into the street.
One day, when I was awake in the middle of the night, I realized it was the perfect time to meditate. I didn't have anything at all to distract me. It was quiet. I had all the time in the world. I was going to be awake and potentially freaked out, I might as well take advantage to alone time.
Since I made that decision, I haven't had any insomnia. Not even once.
I would count my breaths, or chant a mantra in my head, with the acceptance of sleep or staying awake. Either way was fine. I am rarely awake more than twenty minutes or so.
I realized that my dreams were making my inner dialog run unrestrained, and it was my thoughts - my fears - that were keeping me awake. And my biggest fear was that I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Once I took away that expectation - that worry - sleep came much easier. And in the meantime, I got to have some precious quiet alone time that I hardly find time for.
My dreams used to haunt me. Meditation by counting breaths has made a difference in teaching me to disattach from my dreams, while at the same time being fully aware and accepting of their content.
Dreams have a lot to say about who I am, and where my life currently is. Being able to step away and look at them with a bit of distance is a great way to listen to them. And make sense of them. And it's a great way to get back to sleep in the middle of the night.
February 24, 2007
Toastmasters
I went to a Toastmasters meeting today. I have wanted to go to one for a long time, but was a little intimidated. And I didn't have a clear reason to go other than curiosity.
Well, now that I've been doing some public speaking and I'm working on a book (isn't everyone?), I figured that now's a good time to check into it and see if it could help me with my public presence.
I am a rather quiet person in general. But get me in front of a group, or in a situation where I get to make some kind of schpeal, and I'm OFF. blah, blah, blahdiddy blah blah. You can't shut me up. I'll even jump on the table if I gain enough momentum.
Funny enough, I'm hoping Toastmasters will help teach me to SLOW DOWN a little more when I'm talking. And from the speeches I heard today, and talking to the people at the group, I think it just might.
I only get 3 minutes to talk, I'm not supposed to repeat myself, avoid filler words, and leave space between my words and thoughts. So many concepts that I always knew would help me speak, but this practice might help me integrate it all.
I'll be attending again next week. When I sign up, I'll get a package with all the Toastmaster information.
This venture, on the surface, seems somewhat opposite from my spiritual quest - I've spent a lot of time working on my insides, and being in the moment, being quiet while being alone, and when I'm with people, allowing the situation to unfold without feeling the need to control it or direct it. And now, I'm stepping out and placing myself in the middle of this group whose purpose is to practice being "on", and directing the group, at least for the duration of my speech.
But ultimately, these two practices - meditation/spirituality and public speaking - are the same thing. Both focus on being in the now, acceptance, being unattached to the results and helping others. Perhaps it's because I'm learning to put myself into the now and accept things as they are with less expectations that I'm ready to try Toastmasters. I don't think I would have been ready a couple of years ago.
Who knew that I could grow so much in my 30's? I thought that teens and twenties were the time for growing, but I'm finding, that it's always the time. Being awake means non-stop growing.
I LOVE that. And for that reason alone, even if I didn't count all the other benefits, I think Toastmasters will be a good experience for me.
I'm ready. For whatever happens.
Well, now that I've been doing some public speaking and I'm working on a book (isn't everyone?), I figured that now's a good time to check into it and see if it could help me with my public presence.
I am a rather quiet person in general. But get me in front of a group, or in a situation where I get to make some kind of schpeal, and I'm OFF. blah, blah, blahdiddy blah blah. You can't shut me up. I'll even jump on the table if I gain enough momentum.
Funny enough, I'm hoping Toastmasters will help teach me to SLOW DOWN a little more when I'm talking. And from the speeches I heard today, and talking to the people at the group, I think it just might.
I only get 3 minutes to talk, I'm not supposed to repeat myself, avoid filler words, and leave space between my words and thoughts. So many concepts that I always knew would help me speak, but this practice might help me integrate it all.
I'll be attending again next week. When I sign up, I'll get a package with all the Toastmaster information.
This venture, on the surface, seems somewhat opposite from my spiritual quest - I've spent a lot of time working on my insides, and being in the moment, being quiet while being alone, and when I'm with people, allowing the situation to unfold without feeling the need to control it or direct it. And now, I'm stepping out and placing myself in the middle of this group whose purpose is to practice being "on", and directing the group, at least for the duration of my speech.
But ultimately, these two practices - meditation/spirituality and public speaking - are the same thing. Both focus on being in the now, acceptance, being unattached to the results and helping others. Perhaps it's because I'm learning to put myself into the now and accept things as they are with less expectations that I'm ready to try Toastmasters. I don't think I would have been ready a couple of years ago.
Who knew that I could grow so much in my 30's? I thought that teens and twenties were the time for growing, but I'm finding, that it's always the time. Being awake means non-stop growing.
I LOVE that. And for that reason alone, even if I didn't count all the other benefits, I think Toastmasters will be a good experience for me.
I'm ready. For whatever happens.
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