Here’s a link to a short article on how breathing facilitates stress release.
This article says that rapid shallow breathing, as in fire breath, stimulates the energizing sympathetic nervous system, while slow deep breathing stimulates the calming parasympathetic nervous system.
I’d heard previously that emphasizing inhalations stimulates the SNS, while emphasizing exhalations stimulates the PNS.
I do know that long, slow exhalations are very calming.
I recently was fortunate enough to receive Reiki attunements from a Reiki master.
I’ve long been aware of energy flowing through my body, of chakras, nadis, and meridians. I’ve studied various cultures’ knowledge and ways of working with the energy body.
For instance, for several years I’ve practiced the Q’ero way of bringing energy in from the center of the cosmos through the crown and sending it out the feet to the center of the earth, then bringing clean earth energy up through the feet and out the crown. The downward direction releases hucha, and the upward direction connects your authentic being to the cosmos.
Learning Reiki is a natural extension. I’ve long been giving Reiki to my cat without knowing it was Reiki!
Now to put what I learned into practice. As part of the detox process after leaving my job, I commit to giving myself a Reiki self-treatment every day for 21 days.
I’ll sit in a chair, spine erect, visualizing energy descending from my tailbone, anchoring it to the center of the earth.
Then let earth-colored energy come up through my feet and circulate in my lower body until it feels heavier.
Let white light from the center of the cosmos enter my crown chakra and fill my upper body until it feels lighter.
Then begin the Reiki hand positions, holding each as long as needed.
I want to start channeling this prana-ki-qi-life force-healing energy to others, and this is how I prepare.
From the book What Really Matters: Searching for Wisdom in America, by Tony Schwartz, a quote from Sandra Maitri, a teacher of Hameed Ali’s Diamond Approach (she later wrote The Spiritual Dimension of the Enneagram):
“Emptiness can be experienced in very different ways,” Maitri explained, after we’d done the exercise. “Often you almost literally fear you’ll die if you stay in that emptiness, and in a sense that’s true. A given sector of the personality will die if you don’t keep trying to fill it up. But there is something deeper. Emptiness feels like a black hole when it’s viewed through the prism of the personality. But that same hole is experienced as open and pristine and very peaceful when you are in essence. It may take a leap of faith to let go into this emptiness — whether from courage or desperation. But when you do, it is very spacious, and it’s anything but deficient. It is the beginning of opening up to our true selves — to the empty space in which everything arises, to the ground of our fundamental nature.”
This popped up into my awareness after writing previously about jumping off the train, a form of ego death.
For many years, I didn’t really work on taking care of my health and wasn’t very aware of my body. My identity resided more in my head than in my heart or my body.
Then I was in a car accident. That started me on the healing path.
The healing path has led me so many places! Massage, chiropractic of many types, Rolfing, yoga, Pilates, Alexander Technique, Feldenkrais, diet and supplementation, cranio-sacral therapy, regular therapy, Neuro-Linguistic Programming, traditional Chinese medicine, meditation, Zen, and I’m sure I’m leaving out some good stuff.
About 5 years ago, I got tested for food sensitivities, and as a result, I cleaned up my diet. Most unexpectedly, I felt a whole lot better.
Hindsight tells me that I probably have been gluten-sensitive for most of my life, and getting wheat out of my diet made the biggest difference in how I felt from day to day than anything else I’ve ever done — and that’s saying a lot.
The difference in how I felt pointed me to the realization that I truly had no idea how good it was possible for me to feel. I don’t mean feeling good in a hedonistic sense. I mean basically experiencing myself as healthy, happy, whole, resourceful, alive, alert, intelligent, present, competent, able, capable, loving, compassionate, strong.
That became my key question: How good is it possible for me to feel?
Of course, there’s no answer to that! Who could possibly know? That doesn’t mean it’s not a great question!
The question began to influence my choices. For instance, f I had a choice between eating something that I knew would probably make me feel not-so-great, the question gave me more motivation not to eat it.
The question helped me stick with the program.
Other people have key questions. “How perfect is this?” is one. ” “Which choice brings the most joy?” is another.
Do you have a key question that guides your choices? If so, I would love to know what it is.
It’s been 10 years since I jumped off the train, and my life hasn’t been the same since. It’s been so.much.better.
Ten years ago, I had just moved from Dallas to back to Austin to a new job. I was very wound up about some choices that someone close to me had made, choices that were terrible, with dire consequences, in my opinion.
My friend with whom I was staying followed a spiritual teacher called Prasad. I went with her that day to one of his satsangs.
I wasn’t sure what to think of him — a long-haired American dude with a Hindu name, dressed in white, sitting on a carpeted platform with flowers, answering questions as if he was a guru.
He looked like a hippie putting on airs to me. I was silent during the satsang, observing.
But Prasad said something about “jumping off the train,” meant in the sense of shifting into a more authentic way of being. “Jumping off the train” was a nice metaphor. It stuck in my mind.
That night, which was the night before I was to start my new job, I laid awake, mind whirling with anxiety and anger about what this person had done and what I believed the consequences would be.
I could not fall asleep. The clock slowly crept past midnight into the wee hours as I lay awake, monkey mind going a hundred miles per hour.
I knew how important the first day at a new job is. I wanted to make a good impression, not be bleary-eyed and tired.
That part of me was really annoyed that I was letting this worry get to me so much. That part was self-centered. That part remembered “jumping off the train” and decided I had nothing to lose by trying it.
I imagined myself on the top of a train speeding through the darkness. The train was my train of thoughts and emotions. Monkey mind on speed.
Crouching atop the train like an action hero, I could feel the cold air and the wind generated by the train’s speed.
I began to think about jumping off. What would happen to me if I did? Could I die?
Yes, definitely I could die from jumping off the train!
I did it anyway. I flung myself off the train, somersaulting into the air.
And what happened was this: Nothing happened. Literally. Nothing happened.
I found myself experiencing dark, silent stillness. I didn’t land. I didn’t die. And in that nothing was a blessed, blessed relief. Peace. Peace of mind. At last.
I slept like a baby the rest of the night and felt rested my first day on the new job.
I later recognized that jumping off the train was an experience of ego death. What died was my self-important belief that I had to worry and suffer because someone I loved made what I thought was a dire mistake.
I began to accept the situation and recognize for the first time in my life that worry doesn’t do a thing for anyone, especially the worrier. I found ways to love that person without losing sleep, without taking their choices personally, without suffering but with compassion. For both of us.
I have since noticed that when one experiences ego death, humility accompanies it. Humility and humus come from the same root in Latin. It is grounding to experience humility, and it brings grace.
Ego death. Believe me, we spend a lot of energy fearing and avoiding it. And when it happens, grace follows.
How else can I be wrong and find grace?
A quick post. This morning when I sat, I noticed clearly that when I am thinking thoughts or telling myself a story with negative emotions like anger, blame, fear, and worry attached, I go completely into the story.
Then I realize that I have been sucked out of the present moment into the story. Rather, the story I tell myself has sucked me out of the present moment into suffering.
Then I come back to the present moment.
Then I feel it in my body. Somewhere in my body, I feel holding, stiffness, tightness, a grinding sensation, emotional distress. This is armor.
When I let go of the story and just be present with what is, I feel relaxed and pleasantly centered in my body.
It’s very clear. I do this to myself with my mind by telling myself stories. It’s not that the stories themselves are bad. There are real injustices in this world, and people make real mistakes, including myself.
But I see how I create my own suffering at times when I don’t need to suffer! Hashing over past events, imagining future events, arguing, trying to win, trying to control others…
I see how addictive drama can be.
Today, I practiced letting go of my stories when I realized they were hurting me.
Today I’m sharing a note that the writer/teacher/healer Oriah Mountain Dreamer posted on Facebook, which one of my friends shared. I am grateful to have come across this (thanks, Victoria), because this season, leaving a job sooner than expected, I have a lot of emotions to acknowledge and honor.
Still, I am mostly grateful today.
Taking the “Should” Out of Giving Thanks
When I was a child being thankful was more about manners than real appreciation. When Aunt Lucy insisted that my brother and I take the candies she’d dredged up from the bottom of her purse covered in lint and other unsavoury and unidentifiable bits, my mother prodded us with a hasty, “What do you say?”
We of course responded on cue, our small voices chanting, “Thank you,” with compliance if not enthusiasm. We were not expected to enjoy the candies. We were not permitted to refuse them. We were expected to express thanks.
The confusing messages about gratitude didn’t stop there. Growing up, if I tried to get up from the supper table without finishing the peas that had been put on my plate (you know the ones – pale green, from the can and simmered for twenty minutes to finish off any texture or taste that might have survived the canning process) my mother would call me back with an admonishment about starving children on other continents who would be grateful to eat the peas I did not want. Once – and only once – I suggested that the offending vegetables should be shipped to those who could fully appreciate them.
Then there was the general principle of gratitude that was presented as one of a long list of “shoulds” emphasized if we wanted or asked for something. We should be grateful for what we have. We should be grateful that we are not starving, that bombs are not falling on our houses, that we have a long list of freedoms that others in the world do not have.
Expressions of gratitude that are compelled by rules are often reduced to empty gestures devoid of real appreciation. And the “shoulds” around gratitude don’t stop with childhood. Just today I’ve read two blogs that, in preparation for the American Thanksgiving, explicitly tell readers how and why they “should” be grateful. It’s not that I don’t think that cultivating gratitude can’t be done or that it isn’t a good idea. I just have doubts about our ability to experience the full joy of appreciation on demand.
Once, years ago, when I confessed to a therapist that I was disappointed – mostly with myself and some of what I had and had not done in my life – he cut me off before I could finish the sentence. “Well,” he said, “you know what the antidote for disappointment is, don’t you?” I waited. “Gratitude,” he said with a kind of fierce conviction. “Count your blessings. Be grateful, and you won’t be disappointed!” Feeling chastised I never brought my sense of disappointment to him again.
Counselling individuals who are often going through difficult times of confusion, ill health, financial crisis, divorce or other major losses, the statement I hear most often in initial sessions is: “I know I shouldn’t be feeling this sad (or angry or confused or scared.) I know I should feel grateful for what I do have. . . .” It’s not that people are unaware of those things of value in their lives. It’s not even that they aren’t grateful for caring family, or friends, or the job or home or health they may have. It’s that something else – some painful circumstance or choice or loss – is calling for their attention at the moment. And, if they feel they do not have the right to turn their attention to that pain because they “should” be grateful, they can neither fully appreciate what they do have nor take care of the painful inner or outer situation that needs tending.
Developing the habit of courteously acknowledging the things others do for us or offer to us is a good thing. It helps us live side by side. And, if I slow down and really see the other, I can put my heart into even simple words of common courtesy and convey real appreciation. Similarly, setting aside time on a regular basis – daily, weekly, and/or once a year – to do prayers or practices that acknowledge what is good in our lives can surely increase our ability to appreciate what life has provided. But, like all spiritual practises, if the intent has been lost in the rules, if we find ourselves having to deny the reality of the moment to try to feel something we think we “should” be feeling instead – it won’t work. Like most spiritual practises that bring us deeper into life this is not an “either/or.” It’s an “and/but.” It’s not – either I am grateful for my home or I am discouraged by my health. Some days it’s – I am discouraged about my health and I am deeply grateful to have a safe, comfortable place to live and rest.
Because the thing I am most grateful for, that aspect of life that I have learned to appreciate most deeply, is that it is large enough to hold it all. We do not need to wait until everything is perfect in the world or our lives before we make room for deep gratitude for being alive today. But we also do not need to deny the pain or confusion or despair that may be present in this moment in order to be deeply grateful for the life we have been given. Life can hold it all, can hold us all. And for this I am deeply grateful.
How much change do you need or seek?
I need a certain amount of change in my life, and I’ve worked in an environment for the last six years where people often stay in the same job for decades.
I gave two weeks’ notice at my job on Monday.
I once worked at the same place for eight years, although that job involved promotions, various managers, and several reorganizations. In my current job, I have done the same thing for the same manager for six years. I’ve liked working with her. She hasn’t been perfect, but I’ve felt comfortable with her supervising my work. She’s a literate technologist, and I appreciate her. Now she’s retiring, and I’ve come to see it is also the best time for me to leave.
Even though giving up a secure job brings insecurity, I feel strongly that I did the right thing anyway! I feel exhilarated and insecure, free and scared and adventurous.
I’m excited about the new opportunities I have — to work in a health food store, to work in a garden center, to spend more time with my granddaughter, to catch up on my reading, to devote more time to improving my blogging, maybe travel a bit, take some workshops that intrigue me.
To rediscover my own biorhythms instead of those artificially imposed by an employer’s needs — yippee!
And of course as I’ve mentioned before here, I’m selling my house, planning to downsize into a vintage trailer, and have been accepted into the Academy of Oriental Medicine of Austin with a summer start date.
I am witnessing doors open — like being asked if I’d be interested in teaching an “old men’s” yoga class!
I notice a kind of shedding that accompanies leaving this job. My mind feels sharper and more resourceful. I feel more alive.
I am not who I was six years ago. Dang, but I have done a lot of yoga since then, substituted for my teacher, and finally trained as a teacher.
I’ve taken two levels of NLP training and presented on NLP topics, with plans to do more and some coaching again.
I finally read all the Carlos Castaneda books and discovered some great poets and took up the pennywhistle.
I’ve traveled to Maui twice and discovered West Texas.
I’ve been in and out of relationship a couple of times.
I’ve been a support for my daughter while she’s gone to nursing school.
I’ve been an integral part of my granddaughter’s life.
I’ve worked hard on several health issues with a lot of success.
I’ve made some friends at work and gotten kudos for my work.
And of course, I started meditating and started this blog.
Really, I cannot count all the changes I’ve made while working in this same steady job. The job has made it possible for me to grow and change, and now it seems I’ve outgrown the job.
I’ve come to accept that truly, life is change, that change is the key characteristic of life. I walk towards it now.
According to the book I’m reading, What Really Matters: The Search for Wisdom in America, many of the biofeedback pioneers viewed the early focus on training people to experience the alpha range of brain waves as a mistake. Elmer Green, biofeedback pioneer said,
Alpha is finally only an idling state. It’s ten times better than beta when you’re tense, but beyond a certain level of relaxation, it doesn’t have that much to offer by itself. If you want to truly grow, the only way you’re going to do that is through the deeper state of theta. That’s where you can interrogate the unconscious and even gain the ability to reprogram it. The true value of alpha is that it’s a necessary bridge between beta and theta.
Green did research on theta in the early 1970s. Neurofeedback studies of yogis and monks showed that as they moved into deep levels of meditation, alpha eventually gave way to long trains of theta waves. Zen masters have described this deep state as having access to some deeper level of truth or knowing.
The challenge is to learn how to experience theta without falling asleep. Our most common experience of a pure theta state is in those moments when we are falling asleep or awakening, when our minds let go of rational thought and often spontaneously form images.
We found theta to be associated with a deeply internalized state. The state of deep quietness of body, emotions, and mind…achieved in theta training seems to build a bridge between conscious and unconscious processes and allows usually “unheard” things to come to consciousness. It’s as if you have two radio signals. One is loud, the other is very soft and faint. To hear the faint one, you have to turn the loud one down. We go into theta to get this loud noise of normal waking consciousness turned off, so we can hear the softer voice underneath. And we do that because the breadth of our consciousness turns out to extend far beyond what we’re usually conscious of.
The book goes on to relate studies done by Green and associates where they trained themselves and others to relax the body, quiet the mind, let go of emotional tension, and increase theta while remaining awake enough to be aware of the imagery that arose.
College students so trained were able to recall rich imagery, including long-forgotten childhood events. After the studies, a significant percentage of students reported positive changes, including greater clarity, more energy, improved relationships, and better concentration and recall.
Green went to India to study brain wave patterns of advanced yogis and tested Ram Sharma, who could produce nearly pure theta waves on command while remaining fully conscious, unheard of in the West.
Green later said the value of theta training…
…is the relatively rapid development of a skill in shifting, without years of trial-and-error meditation, into a state of consciousness in which one comes face to face with one’s Self…. You can feel all the mental, physical, and emotional things going on around you and in you and yet not be identified with the individual pieces.
So how can you experience theta without a neurofeedback machine? I’ve experienced it when receiving cranio-sacral therapy, esoteric acupuncture, regular acupuncture, and massage, and also through meditation.
Once experienced, it becomes easier to re-experience.
Every Wednesday, I get an email from Nipun Mehta called InnerNet Weekly, also viewable in a browser. Here’s the link to view this week’s message on how to suffer more effectively, written by Shinzen Young.
Therefore, there is nothing whatsoever to be said in favor of pain per se for meditators. It can just as much create new blockages as it can break up old ones. Everything depends on one’s degree of skill in experiencing it. Very little depends on the intensity of the discomfort itself. A small discomfort greeted with a large amount of skill will break up old knots. A small discomfort greeted with a large lack of skill will create new knots. The same is true with respect to big discomforts. The trick is not so much to endure massive doses of pain, but to develop that skill which will allow you to get the maximum growth out of whatever happens to come up.
Click the link above to learn more about the skills needed.
Here’s more from Thomas Merton on suffering:
Indeed, the truth that many people never understand, until it is too late, is that the more you try to avoid suffering, the more you suffer, because smaller and more insignificant things begin to torture you, in proportion to your fear of being hurt. The one who does most to avoid suffering is, in the end, the one who suffers the most: and his suffering comes to him from things so little and so trivial that one can say that it is no longer objective at all. It is his own existence, his own being, that is at once the subject and the source of his pain, and his very existence and consciousness is his greatest torture. This is another of the great perversions by which the devil uses our philosophies to turn our whole nature inside out, and eviscerate all our capacities for good, turning them against ourselves.
The Well: bodymindheartspirit 