Tag Archives: teacher

Thoughtclouds

It’s been a roller coaster of a week. I hurtled into shock, grief, disappointment and confusion. And I soared with laughter, love, joy and beauty.

For the month of September, I’ve decided to be present. And for the first few days, my commitment to this challenge has really been tested.

Instead of beating myself up over being less than perfectly present, I’m glad that I’m aware when I swing high above and far below the present moment.

When I experience a rush of happiness, I look at it with curiosity. I can see that this feeling was born by a thought. A fleeting image of an interesting man I’ve been chatting with. I detach from the reverie and come back to the present.

When I tell myself I’m in a bad mood, I question it. Am I this feeling? Does it belong to me? I examine it. I realise that I feel this way because I just read a message from a friend who’s depressed.

If she’s feeling unwell, should I feel lousy too? Is it my responsibility to make her better? I need to cut the cord that I have loving placed around both our necks before we strangle one another completely. I unravel the attachment and step back into the present.

When I believe a thought, I adhere importance to it. A feeling arises from this connection. This can occur so quickly that it’s difficult to spot the sequence. Now that I understand what’s happening, I ask myself: What am I choosing to believe? And is that true?

This evening, I flake out on the armchair and watch the thoughts that dance for my attention. What can I say to help her? Will I go to badminton tonight? Would it be better to drive to the airport next week or get the bus? Maybe she doesn’t like me any more. Will I grow old gracefully? I wonder if we’ll fancy one another… I need to make an appointment for a bikini wax. What’ll I wear tomorrow night? Where am I going to live? Is everything okay?

The thoughts shimmy before me and I am exhausted. I decide that I’m too tired to think. I just couldn’t be bothered.

I could simply be present. Isn’t that where I want to be anyway? Isn’t that where I am? Spiritual teacher Mooji said:

“You’re like the infinite sky. Can any clouds come and stay? Everything is passing, everything is passing. Will you fall in love with a cloud? How long will your relationship last?”

Thoughts come. Thoughts go. Feelings surface. Feelings change. Nothing is permanent. Nothing stays the same. Everything passes, like clouds.

Why then should I fear what won’t last? And why should I hold tight to things that cannot remain? I’d rather not waste time and energy when there really is no point in doing so.

So I sit here, close my eyes and breathe. And the thoughts pass. Like clouds.

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Taking the Mind out of Mindfulness

I gave my Positive Living group the homework of doing one thing per day in complete mindfulness. This means being present with every sensation and emotion that you experience as you participate in an activity.

It involves being aware of the taste, smell, colour and texture of each ingredient you eat. It includes really listening to the sounds and silences of the music that’s playing. It’s about the feel of the ground beneath your feet with every step you take. It is the subtle sense of your breath as it leaves your nostrils and touches your skin.

We had a week off class because of the mid-term break. So one week later, when I started preparing this week’s class, I remembered the homework. I hadn’t done it once. I was anything from an exemplary teacher. I resolved to start. I still had a week.

This evening, as I sat down to dinner, I remembered the task. I had totally forgotten about it again. This was the perfect opportunity to practice. I could eat mindfully right now. But it’ll take too long, my inner resistance whined.

The logical part of me suggested that it wouldn’t take much longer to eat mindfully than it would to just eat. The only difference would be that I’d have to set aside my mind chatter for a few moments. You know what happened? I lost my appetite.

To be perfectly honest, I still haven’t done my homework. Some stubborn part of me is refusing to let go of the busyness, to quiet the din, to slow down, to simply be.

I’m sure the reason for this will become apparent but I’ll probably have to do all of the things I just mentioned first.

Could you do one thing per day in complete mindfulness for a week? If so, please let me know how you get on. I’d love to learn from you.

runningahospital.blogspot.ie

runningahospital.blogspot.ie

Breaking Barriers

Today I came up with a new idea: You’re only doing as well as the despair that that one person can drive you into. I spent a wonderful weekend in Glasgow at a Hay House I Can Do It conference, listening to amazing, uplifting speakers, including Dr Wayne Dyer and Louise Hay. I came home feeling positive and present and full of self-love. And yesterday, just one sentence out of one man’s mouth flung me into self-doubt, anger, tears and a whopper of a headache.

We all have periods when we think we’re doing fantastic. We’re getting things done, our confidence is up and life looks pretty good. We think we finally know who we are and what our purpose is. Spiritual teacher Ram Dass said: “If you think you are so enlightened, go and spend a week with your parents.” Because, if your foundations are even slightly shaky, all it takes is that one family member, friend or co-worker to topple it all.

In my case, I feel fine with everybody else but this one particular man. I can be myself around everyone but him. I’m never totally at ease with this man because he is my biggest mirror. He reflects back to me all the things I dislike about myself or about my current situation. He has a knack of saying exactly what will annoy me most. He is my greatest teacher. I realise that I will not have arrived until I can be myself around this man, until I don’t care what he thinks, until I can tell him to F off with a wink and a smile, and until nothing he says or does or even the way he looks at me has any impact, negative or positive on the foundation of who I am.

Today, I woke with the remnants of yesterday’s pounding headache so I took myself for a walk in the morning sunshine. It occurred to me that I still want to appear perfect, that I don’t want others to talk ill of me or think less of me. And this means that I must not be totally sure of myself because, if I was, nothing anyone said would make a difference.

I wanted this man to acknowledge how well I’m doing, how much progress I’ve made, and how much potential I have. But he knew more about how well I’m doing by my silent reaction of anger, disappointment and self-flagellation than any positive words I’ve spoken or written, any praise I’ve received from clients or family members, or any qualifications I’ve attained.

Today, a part of me broke away – the part that needs approval. This man, my teacher, broke me with his off-the-cuff remark. And that is the best remedy for growth. For when you are broken down, your limiting beliefs break off too. Then, you have room to build afresh. From now on, I’m choosing to build an authentic self, one that holds true to herself no matter what.

Life is a series of lessons. And if you’re lucky enough, you’ll find yourself some excellent teachers. But it is what you do with those lessons that will determine how much you will grow. I believe that the message behind every lesson is love. Love for others and love for oneself. Rumi wrote:

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”

Yesterday, I found another of those barriers. I had told myself (unconsciously) that I would not love myself unless that man validated me. And I would not love him because he mocked me. Today, in awareness, I decide to love myself (and him) anyway.

Am I Only Dreaming?

Why is dreaming big so frowned upon? When a child announces that he’s going to be a dancer, his parents and teachers hope he’ll grow out of it. Why is it more acceptable to say you want to be a doctor or a teacher, rather than a playwright or a photographer?

Simple. It’s because the people who care about you want to protect you from disappointment and hardship. Because your talent, no matter how much you and your loved ones appreciate it, might not be to everyone’s taste. Because so few people blessed / cursed with creativity “make it”. Because “struggling” is the most common adjective to describe “artist” or “actor” or “writer”. Because they want you to be safe and get a “real” job – one that comes with a company car and a pension. So, you’re advised to just be realistic.

But what’s realistic is acknowledging your gifts and doing something with them. What’s realistic is at least giving it a shot. What’s realistic is wanting to live a happy life doing something you’re passionate about.

Of course, it’s easier to live a normal life. Sharing your creativity means baring your soul. It means lifting the comfortable veil that most of us wear. There can be no secrets when you allow others to glimpse the depths of your emotion, the shades of your pain, the hidden creases of your heart, and the crevices of your imagination.

Sadly, many people don’t even try to pursue their passion. They know they’ve got something special but they’ve given up on it before they’ve even started. Or they’ve never had the time or space to explore their creativity. There are too many bored secretaries, frustrated sales reps and depressed accountants. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not condemning these occupations. Creativity manifests in many forms. I’d just hope that if you work at one of these professions, it’s because order or commerce or numbers are your passion. And if not, that you’d at least humour your creative side on the weekends.

Without dreamers, the world would be a very dull place. We would never have even heard of music, poetry, theatre or literature. If nobody took a chance on their dreams, there would be no Harry Potter or Bilbo Baggins, Dracula or Holly Golightly. We wouldn’t be able to talk on the phone or fly to another continent. Andrea Bocelli would be just another blind Italian. And we wouldn’t have the likes of this. 

Or this.

Starry Night - Vincent van Gogh

Or this. 

Featured Image: Painting by Georgia O’Keeffe – http://www.artchive.com/artchive/O/okeefe.html

Other Images: http://www.flickr.com/photos/amandamabel/5597604359/;

http://www.arthistoryguide.com/Vincent_van_Gogh.aspx