
Whether you are caring for patients, clients, family, pets, others, the Earth, take some time in silence to recharge and connect with your deepest intentions for being alive. You are not an unlimited resource. Thank you for your care.
![]() Whether you are caring for patients, clients, family, pets, others, the Earth, take some time in silence to recharge and connect with your deepest intentions for being alive. You are not an unlimited resource. Thank you for your care. Compassionate Friend Gratitude Elements Meditation
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I used to think that enlightenment Was a place to get to Just one more class, one more practice One more teacher training And I’m on my way To the land of freedom What if enlightenment was always right here A calming breath underneath An N-95 mask and other *PPE Compassionate words to soothe The ill and worried well Knowing that both need attention What if enlightenment is vacation Redefined as staycation No more Maui or even Monterey The rooms in my home and backyard Becoming the paradise I seek Sheltering in place to awaken What if enlightenment is this body Breaking down to remind me Speed caused injury Slowing down is what heals Yoga to Qigong, hiking to walking Embodying over accomplishing What if enlightenment is family The ones who love me most And push all my buttons To test a bodhisattva’s vow On your path to liberation Will you take us with you? Enlightenment is what’s here now Pleasant, unpleasant and neutral Moments taking turns to watch If I’ll show up with grace Or resist and run away Accepting an in between response As long as I’m willing to try (*PPE: personal protective equipment worn to prevent injury or infection) Dear Healthcare Workers, Change is inevitable. With the current pandemic, change at work (and elsewhere) is likely faster than you ever expected. How can you meet these moment to moment changes, acknowledging the thoughts and true feelings underneath them? How can you remember the body that is holding so much right now? Who or what can you count on in challenging times? What does connection, collaboration, and self-care mean to care for others? If these questions resonate, then perhaps you will find this guided mindfulness meditation for healthcare workers useful. Thank you for caring! Guided Meditation
As a front-line family physician, I’m used to offering compassionate care to patients, and listening to the care team at work. I’m used to holding space for meditation and reflective journaling classes, supporting family and friends in ways that feel wholesome. And sometimes it’s overwhelming. With the recent pandemic, the constant barrage of news, work email updates, protocols constantly changing, and questions, there has been little time to contemplate what’s happening within. This body is also in greater pain than normal. After several months of physical wellbeing with PT and engaging in movement practices I love (yoga, hiking, walking, Qigong), the body has decided to speak (scream at times). I’m sure it’s contributing to the overwhelm with fear eclipsing the things I usually see and remember. Over the years, I’ve cultivated a strong lovingkindness and compassion practice to face challenges. But somewhere along the way, I’ve forgotten to pause for fifteen seconds six times a day to really let joy’s sunlight reach all the dark places within me. To help me remember, I joined an Awakening Joy course. For a few days I was diligent with the practice, opening like a sunflower to moments of gratitude throughout the day. The pain in the sacroiliac joints and gluteal muscles was improving. Yeah, I thought. I’m on the right path! Then the body screamed. I’m doing the PT daily. I’m trying to take it easy physically. Where am I going wrong??? In a state of despair and overflowing tears, I reached out to people who could help me remember what I was forgetting. The incoming texts/emails of care and support definitely helped me to remember a few things. 1.) I must put my own oxygen mask on first before I can take on the suffering of others. This means meeting my own suffering with compassionate care and asking, What’s needed now? I’m not always in a quite space to listen, so it’s important to take this time when possible, pencil in an appointment for myself, like I did this morning. 2.) S.O.S. I heard this acronym through a prerecorded webinar my work offered titled “Managing the Unknown”. When you notice that you are on information overload, and the brain, body and heart cannot take any more, STOP what you are doing. Stop clicking on more news links online, more email. Stop engaging in conversation that is echoing doomsday. Stop immersing yourself in more secondary trauma. OBSERVE the thoughts and feelings within with kindness. If that’s hard, imagine a kind, supportive being/presence with you. Stay here as long as you need to really listen internally. SWITCH to something that is positive and nourishing – a cup of tea, a conversation with a friend, music, a walk, journaling, humor, etc. (I’ve also heard this as S.T.O.P.: Stop. Take a breath. Observe thoughts and feelings. Proceed with something nourishing. 3.) Stay informed so that you have the latest information from the CDC, WHO, your local state, county, and health care professionals AND ask yourself what else you need to hear so that the scales are balanced. It’s easy to listen to statistics, worsening conditions, and conversations around you that accentuate the negative. What do you need to hear that’s positive? Where can you find this? It might be an inspiring quote, book, movie, song, story, prayer, etc. If you are having a hard time looking, ask others! Try this one on: "My friends, do not lose heart. We were made for these times. Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach. Any small, calm thing that one soul can do to help another soul, to assist some portion of this poor suffering world will help immensely. It is not given to us to know which acts or by whom, will cause the critical mass to tip toward an enduring good. One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul.” -Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Jungian psychoanalyst, author of Women Who Run with the Wolves. 4.) Which brings me to my next point. Be a calm presence where you can be. Today I had the opportunity to speak with a relative overseas, a local business owner, and a stranger while shopping for groceries. The questions that used to sound like massive missiles attacking were surprisingly welcome. The conversations included some of what I am sharing here. If staying calm is not possible (it’s not expected, even for me), then can you be generous in other ways? Can you call someone who is currently quarantined, or check on them in other ways that do not place yourself at risk? Do you have an extra toilet roll, hand sanitizer, can of food that you’re saving for The Apocalypse? Do you know of neighbor you can share this with, someone who is restricted financially, physically, or by some other means? Generosity cultivates abundance of heart and mind, widens survival of the fittest perspective into one of interdependence. Just be sure to wash your hands thoroughly with soap and water for at least 20 seconds, and don’t share if you’re sick. 5.) Impermanent/Imperfect/Impersonal. Physical pain and global pandemics can feel permanent, imperfect, and personal. It sure feels perpetual, messy, and personal to me right now. But if I take a closer look, there are moments when the body isn’t raging, even parts that feel neutral or pleasant. There are times when corona virus is not the main news infecting body, mind, heart, and spirit. It was not the main news when I dropped my daughter off or picked her up from school, on a mini retreat this morning in sitting and walking meditation, while brushing my teeth or taking a shower. It can also help to remember that others are affected by what’s happening, just as you are. Knowing that so many lives have been affected, what can you keep doing regularly to maintain some sense of normalcy? (If you or someone you know has been significantly harmed physically, emotionally, financially, etc. please grieve the way that you need to. ‘Normalcy’ may be the last thing you need to hear/read.) Maybe it’s the way you comb your hair, brush your teeth, sip morning coffee or tea, go for a walk/run, meditate, eat, work, hug/kiss healthy family members, sing, dance, or any number of things you normally do (and are still doing:) Though change is inevitable, it’s healthy to maintain contact with who/what is familiar. It can nurture a sense of safety in times like this. surrender to a beating heart an unsettled belly a hand on each one just sensing just breathing prana providing companionship through every future unknown This post is not written to negate the true feelings that are here: fear, anger, loneliness, despair, etc. It isn’t a spiritual bypass to a happier place untouched by illness or suffering. (If you know of such a place, let me know!). I needed to sit with all the paralyzing thoughts, feelings, and physical manifestations of them. I will likely be sitting with them for some time. Surrendering to a beating heart and unsettled belly, I placed a hand on each one, just sensing, just breathing, prana providing the companionship that was so desperately needed. I know that this simple act is not enough to heal the world, but it is certainly “mending the part of the world that is within my reach” through every future unknown. May these reflections be of benefit to all beings everywhere without exception. Welcome! If you are here, then maybe you are curious and looking for something else about COVID-19 than the typical daily news flash. The news is important to help you stay well informed and make healthy choices. And it can be overwhelming. The invitation here is to carve out about an hour for your yourself, possibly 1.5 hours if you choose to experience this with another person. If you are practicing alone, then find a comfortable, quiet space to listen to the guided meditation in your favorite meditation posture. Have a journal/paper and pen (or laptop) ready to go for the reflective journaling part. Once the meditation is complete, read the writing elements below, the poem "The Peace of Wild Things", the writing reflection, and write/type for approximately 20-30 minutes. You can write for a shorter or longer length of time depending on your needs. Dyads: If you are practicing with another person, then listen to the guided meditation together, and follow the same writing instructions. Once you both have finished the writing process, decide who will share first, while the other simply listens. (You can choose to set a timer for sharing 4-5 minutes each, or keep this more spontaneous. Each person should be given the same respect of time.) The one sharing can read what was written, share the process in his/her/their own words, or a combination of both. The listener listens with his/her/their whole body, mind, and heart without the need to say or do anything else. After the speaker is done, the listener thanks the speaker for the vulnerability it took to share. Then roles are reversed. After both parties have the chance to share, the dyad may choose to move to an open dialogue about the process, or not. May this offering be of service. I'd love to hear how it goes for you. Guided Meditation Text of Guided Meditation Please sit comfortably, relaxed yet alert. Whether you are sitting in a chair, on a cushion, or lying down, notice the areas where your body is supported by the earth and this moment. Take a few full breaths in and out, inhaling deeply, and exhaling completely. Then return your breath back to its natural state when you’re ready. Where do you feel the movement of your breath? Is it the inflow and outflow of breath at the tips of your nostrils? The rise and fall of your chest? Or the contraction and expansion of the belly? Rest your attention gently on the place that feels the most natural for the next minute or so. If the attention has wandered away from the breath, it’s not a problem, it’s what minds do. Notice where the attention was, and gently guide the attention back to your breath with as much kindness and as little judgement as possible. Releasing the attention from the breath, imagine that you are in a space that feels comfortable, safe, and protected. This might be a place in nature, a part of your home, a place from your childhood, or a place where you gather with others. Engage the five senses as best as you can to bring you to this place. What do you see, hear, smell, taste? What can you touch? Though this place is safe, news from the world outside keeps creeping to the edges of your comfort zone – the things that could happen to you or loved ones around you, the physical isolation, work, school, travel and home lives disrupted. Maybe other thoughts are also present. Can you sense the feelings beneath the thoughts: anger, fear, disappointment, frustration, hopelessness, sadness, something else? Remember that you are not alone in this. Others are experiencing this, too. Where do these feelings live in the body? Is there any physical area of tension or tightening, heaviness or holding? Breathe with what’s here, without the need to change or fix any part of this experience, bathing any discomfort in kind awareness, trusting the process as best as you can. It might help to feel the presence of a being who supports your sense of safety and comfort: a spiritual being, a parent, grandparent, partner, good friend, or pet. What might this being want you to remember that is positive in times like this? Maybe it’s access to healthcare, supportive beings at work and at home, how interdependent we are locally and globally, how a virus can physically separate us and still motivate us to work collectively towards health, wellbeing, and a potential vaccine. Or maybe this being has another message of care and concern for you. As the philosopher Albert Camus said, “In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there's something stronger – something better, pushing right back.” Writing Elements -Timed writing. Set a timer for a certain length of time (20-30minutes). Try and write for the full length of time. Keep the pen moving on paper like a skater on ice. This will encourage you to keep exploring, even when you feel stuck. That being said, sometimes the kindest thing is to stop writing if you are feeling overwhelmed by something or feel as if your exploration is complete before time is up. Writing continuously helps to bypass the left, logical, linear mind and the inner critic to access our creative, intuitive side. -Nothing will be graded. Let go of grammar, spelling, punctuation, etc. Give yourself the permission and space to write in a manner that supports your exploration. If it’s helpful, imagine you are having a conversation with a kind and supportive friend. Feel free to say whatever you want to say. You may even choose to write in your native language. -If you get stuck, you can always write ideas down like a grocery list. They don’t have to be complete sentences. You can also rewrite part of the poem or writing reflection question that stands out to you and see where it takes you. -Trust yourself. If you’d like to write about something other than the writing prompt, feel free to do so. This is your time to explore in a manner that will best serve you. The Peace of Wild Things (excerpt) When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For the time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free. By: Wendell Berry Writing Reflection: When despair for the world grows inside you, where can you go and lie down to feel safe, rest in the grace of the world, and be free? If this place is not physically available to you due to illness, isolation protocols, or bans on public meetings, can you reflect and write about the last time you were there? 12-28-19 Softening Ideas of Self Loving presence doesn’t ask why I’m going on retreat, leaving family behind Why I didn’t bake cookies on Christmas with my sweet-toothed daughter Why it’s tempting to sleep in for a 6am sit when the season encourages hibernation Loving presence doesn’t award certificates to a maternal safe harbor holding her daughters emotional waves To a physician’s compassionate heart making space for each patient’s story To a writer and yogi trying to wake up from dreams of identity and safe passage Loving presence becomes the heater when a yogi can’t sleep in her dorm room Puts a hand on a quivering belly and heart Finds sacred in the mundane, the profane Sensing the potential in a winter’s branch Without needing to see the bud 12-29-19 Never Enough winter trees, clawing fingers grasping for spring for something they don’t have this moment is never enough 12-30-19 Enough winter trees, bare fingers not needing spring to remind them this moment is enough 12-31-19 The Indriya River The river knows it is destined for the ocean. It does not resist meanderings away from the suspected path, energetically flowing in the direction it was meant to flow. It is aware of each stone it caresses, each leaf, each fish, each root it touches moment by moment. The river does not wish it were further upstream or downstream, honoring exactly where it is at any given point in time, surrendering to an ever changing scene. The river knows it is destined for the ocean. When it forgets, may it remember again, and again, and again. 1-1-20 Ode to Wool Blankets You’re scratchy. You keep slipping off the bed in the middle of the night, leaving a hole for cold air to wake me up before it’s time. Do you understand why I don’t like you, why I long for the down comforter my husband insisted I bring here knowing how cold and grouchy I get with poor quality sleep? Maybe it’s not your fault. Maybe it’s the way I’m relating to you, insisting you transform into something you’re not. What would happen if I trusted you to keep me warm, gently pulled you back over this body when you’ve slipped off rather than yanking you into submission? What if I accepted you here and now without rewinding or fast forwarding (in time) to a high and lofty bed at home, knowing this can’t last forever? What if these words could form a soft quilt, the five faculties stitched into the fabric of a metta-loving heart? Wool blankets, may you not be so irritable as I wrap myself in your embrace. A new year...trying a different way to make the bed. The next morning...it worked!!! 1-2-20 sitting on top of a stone sculpture i am not afraid to fall knowing how to rebuild the structure of samadhi when needed 1-3-20 Listening Sit as if you are supported by an invisible chair made just for you, it’s contours molding to your body better than any lover can. Breathe into the areas of discomfort, massaging them with gentle patience. How is a masseuse on some tropical beach supposed to know your body? The terror, the longing, the hope that one day no part will remain uncharted, that all the cobwebs will glisten with tears in the light of loving awareness, that a heart can radiate Brahmavihara blessings above, below, around and everywhere, inviting integration. One body. One breath. One home. Realizing what I experienced on 1/2/20 was not samadhi. Hindrances were absent but senses were still present. Darn! And trusting it will happen if/when it is meant to. Let’s redo that poem again. sitting on top of a stone sculpture i am not afraid to fall knowing how to rebuild the structure of ego falling again ...and again and again... 1/5/20 Coming Home
devoting my life to the teachings i am not afraid of what lies ahead dying again and again and again resting in the arms of truth She asks if I’ll come on a Stanford dish hike with her and Papa. “C’mon Mom! If I have to do it, you can, too." The next morning, we drive out to the Stanford dish later than I would prefer. The sun’s already out to test hikers’ endurance. It doesn’t take long for aversive mind to set in. Thought clouds pop up left and right. Too bad they aren’t precipitating any moisture or helpful cover against the sun. “I shouldn’t have come.” “We should have left earlier.” “I hope my SI joint and gluteal muscles can do this.” “My daughter should have worn shorts like her parents. What was she thinking hiking in jeans? She didn’t even sunblock her arms!” Thank goodness for awareness. There is clear recognition that none of these thoughts are helping me cool down physically or emotionally. As we walk to the dish and begin the hike, I change thought channels to things I am grateful for. The family hiking together. The choice to change thoughts. Dressing appropriately for the weather. Bringing a water bottle along. Sunglasses, sunhat, sunblocking the skin. A body that can walk. “I can do this! We can do this!” It doesn’t take long for my teen to complain as we trudge up the first steep hill. “(Groan) How long is this hike anyway? Why did I ever agree to this?” Papa is further up the hill walking backwards as if he is our guide. “Welcome to the Stanford Dish. As you can see, shade on this hike is sparse. It’s 3.5 miles. Keep up or be boiled alive!” I glance over at our daughter’s expression. She isn’t exactly smiling at this motivational pep talk. Recognizing the aversion and allowing it to be just as it is, I try a different approach as we reach the top of the hill. “Wow! We made it. Sure is hot out here. How are you doing in those jeans? Do you need any water?” Throughout the hike, I try to mirror her groans with my own, the two of us swearing and laughing at how good it feels to express discontent. She seems to appreciate the fantasy of us walking in a different season altogether or having our favorite flavored popsicles and snow cones to cool us down. I realize that this is only a partial drizzle of “RAIN”. I am not helping her to investigate the discomfort in her body or to not identify with the experience as “me” or “mine”, to nourish with self-compassion. Is it enough? Trusting the recognition and allowing parts of RAIN, we stay with the imaginary drizzle. Granted it’s more guided imagery than straightforward mindfulness, maternal instinct tells me she isn’t ready for the investigation and non-identification/nourishing parts. She isn’t ready to open to the deluge of what’s inside her. Most adults aren’t ready, either. Guiding her too far, too fast would be a subtle form of spiritual bypass. It’s tempting to get to the end of the hike, the metaphorical end of suffering as quickly as possible. I should know. I’ve done it plenty of times in the delusional name of healing. We eventually reach the end of the hike. No actual rain, but a partial drizzle with “RA” was good enough. An understanding of “IN” may come with time. Take all the time you need, Dear One. The emotional intelligence I see in you surprises me, surpasses where I was at your age. May you meet the ups and downs of life with emotional, spiritual tools that make sense to you. Lopsided crescent moon framed in cobalt clouds. It’s been raining for days, the storm of life relentless. A temporary clearing, a smile, a sliver of hope. An invitation to notice this smile in others when everything else feels tragic. With Christmas just around the corner, a question I’m often asked is, “Are you ready for the holidays?". Listening to others’ plans, I hear the following questions beneath this question. “Are the Christmas lights and stockings up? Is the tree dressed in its finest, proud of the presents below it? Will there be gingerbread baking in the oven, along with a perfectly planned holiday meal? Does the family look happy in the Christmas card photos? If not, should you take another picture?” Though I appreciate the genuine warmth and curiosity behind this question, I can’t help but wonder. How long did you stand in line at the mall, how much did you spend online to get the last version of the latest (fill in the blank) so he or she can unwrap happiness? The tree sure looks pretty, but did you ever stop to appreciate its natural beauty out in the wild? Does it bother you that it’s dying, that it cannot live off artificial lights, that it might miss the exchange of carbon dioxide for oxygen? Will you taste and enjoy the food you are about to prepare? Or is it all for show? What if someone isn’t smiling in the picture, the lighting is off, or you look older than you should? Is it still ok to send the cards out? Reflecting on generosity, the question for me isn’t how much, but why. It’s not how much money I spend, the time it takes to cook, bake, or make something, but why I am giving it. What is my intention? Can the one receiving the gift feel my care? How well do I know them? What do I want them to know about me? Tomorrow may never come. One day you and I will both die. This is for certain. It is only a matter of when. We don’t need a terminal diagnosis to wake up to this truth. I want to know how it is for you. I want you to know how it is for me. This presence is the greatest present I could ever give or receive. (This post may impact you negatively. Please know that I am not against holiday traditions, but questioning their authenticity. The invitation is to look beneath the surface of appearances and connect from the heart. May you and yours celebrate Christmas joyfully. May you be happy, warm, and safe. May you experience a deep and profound sense of peace.) When I got married almost nineteen years ago in July, I still had some romantic fairytale pixie dust mixed with classic chick flick movie moments clouding my vision. My Braveheart husband would take care of everything. This notion, coupled with my Tenderheart optimism, would conquer any insurmountable problem. Was I naïve!
Marriage is not a Mary Poppins musical. It takes work, patience, clarity, curiosity, forgiveness. Not just love (unless your definition of love is expanding to include more virtues:). The following reflections are by no means a perfect prescription for marital bliss. They are pearls I’ve picked up from personal experience, needing a good polish every time I forget. Are you still holding on to the good ol’ days when your partner was a perfect gentleman, lady, or person? Have they suddenly turned into someone you barely recognize? Ah, dear one. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but things change. People change. It doesn’t mean he/she/they stopped loving you. Like you, they are a beautiful being growing in the direction of what nourishes them most. The challenging part is that you both may be growing in different directions. Once you can see this clearly, with curiosity and without judgment, it’s possible to make space for who you both are in this new chapter of your lives. Certain life events (the birth of a child, the death of a parent or other loved one, major illness, career change, big geographic move, etc.) can blast any deep subconscious discontent out from the landmine of living. Suddenly, you’re so tired of the struggle, and there’s no place left to hide. Arms up and out in surrender, what can help you pick up the broken pieces, make a mosaic of healing out of suffering? Begin by defining who you are, what matters most to you. Engage with people and practices that support your growth. But be careful! Who you are isn’t better or worse than your partner. He/she/they are growing, too. Get curious about what feeds them. Be patient with their response. This doesn’t mean you become a doormat or a punching bag in the relationship. It’s called a relationship for a reason, implying healthy connection, not disabling connection or hanging on by a thread. You will find the balance between shouting vs. whispering to be heard, between taking the backseat or insisting on being the driver. Make time for this new dance you are choreographing together. It’s easy (and tempting) to fill the calendar with work, social engagements, the children’s activities, caring for aging parents, and time for self-care. Sometimes you both will fall into bed after a long and tedious day with nighttime silence as a welcome reprieve. Eyelids drooping, the lips can barely formulate a Good night honey or I love you. Please don’t make yourselves the last priority! You are the sun and moon of your family planet. You will each take turns shining warmth on a joyous day or being that third eye in dark times to calm restless tides. The poet Mark Nepo said, “To listen is to continually give up all expectation and to give our attention, completely and freshly, to what is before us, not really knowing what we will hear or what that will mean. In the practice of our days, to listen is to lean in, softly, with a willingness to be changed by what we hear.” When I listen to my partner by leaning in softly with a willingness to be changed by what I hear, I am no longer the Wise or Gentle One. He is no longer the Logical or Tough One. We are simply one man, one woman, Braveheart and Tenderheart, trying our best to live in sync with Earth’s eternal heart. Chances are we'll be the combination Chances come and carry me Chances are waiting to be taken, and I can see Chances are the fascinations Chances won't escape from me Chances are only what we make them and all I need Let’s take a chance. You be you and I’ll be me. Let’s listen to each other. Let’s grow. Let’s dance. Let’s be the sun and moon for our family. Thank you for taking a chance on me. |
AuthorKaveri Patel, a woman who is always searching for the wisdom in waves. Categories
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