Breath by Breath

Exploring the art of happy

I recently read this translation of Anna Karenina, my first reading of this, Tolstoy's self-proclaimed first real novel.  I was enraptured by the characters and fell a little in love with Tolstoy, who was so deeply flawed and human and therefore able to capture the fullness of each of his characters.  He made it impossible not to identify with or at least understand the motives, thought processes, weaknesses, strengths and vulnerabilities of each person, seen in relief against a background of a particular time and place in history.  I can't say enough good things about it.  I was deeply moved by Levin's spiritual maturation and his discovery that he's happiest when he is engaged in the work that needs to be done (solving disputes among his farmers, tending to his wife and son, ensuring preparations for the harvest, etc.).  When he stops to contemplate the meaning and purpose of his life, he becomes paralyzed and overwhelmed by existential longings and questions.  Hmmm.  I can relate.  

The pursuit of "happiness" being a tantalizing subject for me right now, I turned my attention to The Geography of Bliss, which a friend gave me about 2 years ago (sorry!).  But, it's one of those books that requires a certain mindset.  In my case, Anna Karenina strongly rooted me in a grand, sweeping view of human nature as essentially changeless, but expressed in a nuanced way depending on the social, political and historical circumstances in which a human lives.  The Geography of Bliss is the travel journal of a western worrier and grump who attempts to gain insight about himself by sifting through academic research about happiness and traveling to some of the "happiest" and "unhappiest" places on the planet. His goal?  To get a first hand view of happiness in practice from both cultural and personal perspectives.  As I was reading, I documented the keys to happiness that he identifies.  Here's a smattering directly from my notes:

•  Trust (personal, social, political)
• Lack of envy and either upward or downward comparison
• Embracing trying (and failing)
• Relationships (individual initiative, coupled with social responsibility)
• Creativity (at all levels and abilities.  To paraphrase:  You need a lot of crap to grow something great.)
• A culture of selfish altruism
• Belief in...something
• Being useful, helpful
• A social safety net
• Flow...the pure joy of being
• Hardworking and loving others
• Cold and dark yield coziness and interdependence
• Gratitude
• Happiness is 100% relational
• Not thinking too much
• Tolerance
• Modest expectations but 100% effort (let go of attachment to results)
• If it isn't fun it's not worth doing
• Let go of what you can't control (and all you can control is yourself and your attitude)
• The quality of a society is more important than your place in that society
• Everything you do and every memory of you will likely be gone in 3-4 generations, so don't take it too seriously
• Connection to place/nature

I'm now turning my attention from the theoretical to the practical.  I've resisted reading this book for a while.  The genre of "be like me" middleclass self-disclosure memoirs is a bit tiresome.  I read two earlier this year (Poser and Project Happily Ever After).  I frankly did not like either person as they presented themselves and I found myself full of judgments (I'm suspecting a little projection here...as well as internalized classism).  Nevertheless  I ended up identifying more than I thought with their feelings and experiences.  So, here I am reading, The Happiness Project, another middle class memoir/instruction manual.  I thought it would be  interesting to see a practical journey toward happiness and this is what was out there.  I'm 5/6 of the way through her year-long "project."  Frankly, I can't wait to be done.  I'm not sure I've gained anything useful for my own experience, but I'm reserving judgment.  Actually, I can think of a couple useful things...

• Be a keeper of happy memories.  I come from a family that doesn't talk about the past at all- the good, the bad, or the otherwise.  I didn't realize how much it matters to me to keep memories on behalf of my current family.  I don't scrapbook.  I don't record things faithfully.  But, I take tons of pictures, I keep notes about significant events, I blog.   I will take this role more seriously in the future.
• Do what you do.  Essentially this is a way of saying, "Be yourself."  She says this another way, "You can choose what you do, but you can't choose what you like to do."  If you are looking for more happy in your day, embrace the things you already find yourself doing (in my case, yoga, reading, cooking, bringing people together, writing, making things), and mine your childhood for the things that made your heart sing (acting, singing, building spaces, making up stories and characters).
• Your body matters.  Exercise, food, play and rest yield energy, vitality, stress management, feeling sexy, better sleep, increased patience, elevated mood.....need I say more?
• One of the best ways to get happy is to make others happy.  Conversely, one of the best ways to make others happy is to be happy yourself.  Small, daily happiness is actually really difficult to sustain.  At least one person was sainted for her almost invisible efforts at small happiness (Saint Therese, "I take care to appear happy and especially to be so").

(I guess I am getting more out of it than I thought!)

I think I'll turn to the Dalai Lama's The Art of Happiness next.  I can't help but be inspired by a person who exudes such positive energy and broad perspective in the face of cruelty to his own people and throughout the planet.  I had the privilege of hearing him speak in person once and I will never forget it.  If I ever doubted the power of one person's energy to ripple through and influence the energy of multitudes, I didn't doubt it after being in his presence. 

Here's to actually being happy. 

Home crafts ::: bedside caddies

Silas sleeps upstairs and we sleep downstairs (at least he sleeps upstairs until he decides to come downstairs).  Lately, that happens in the wee hours and he's requested a flashlight to guide his passage.  He also asked for a place to keep his flashlight so he can always find it. 

Thus, the gusseted bedside caddy was conceived and formed.  After making Silas's to fit his current chapter book and flashlight, I decided I needed one, too.  Mine is designed to hold all the important things I like at my bedside--book (and now Kindle), book light, notepad and pen, reading glasses, ear plugs and headphones/Bluetooth (who doesn't need earphones to facilitate those pre-sleep viewings of important things like "The Daily Show" and "Downton Abbey" and, if I'm super tired, "Murder She Wrote"?).  [Does everyone else love Jessica Fletcher the way I do?"]

I used cotton upholstery fabric and sturdy interfacing between layers, so they hang nicely without sagging.  Silas's has ties on it.  Mine employs hair elastics, which I hang from tiny cup hooks screwed into the underside of the moulding on the night stand.  Mine doesn't really show because it is attached to my nightstand, facing my bed.  I used the fabric to match the pillows I made last summer.  

All-in-all, quite functional.

 

A mother's journal ::: Ron's Big Mission and other books that make me cry

 Over the years there have been a handful of books that evoke a wellspring of emotion as I first read them to my son. Each time I am taken so very much by surprise.  I struggle to get through that first reading, throat tight and tears streaming down my face.  I have to read the book over and over on my own, allowing myself to cry thoroughly, so that I can read it in a way that is for my son and not for me. 

The most recent instance occurred this past week when Silas brought home Ron's Big Mission from the school library.  I launched in, expecting it to be a sweet story of imaginative adventure, only to realize midstream a) it's about Ron McNair as a young boy (he ultimately became an astronaut and died when the Challenger exploded), and b) it's true.  The story centers around a young boy who, because he wants to nurture his dreams, stands up for himself against the most vile and fundamental racism.  He wins through his own courage and the help of a white ally with power who recognizes she can no longer in good conscience enforce institutional racism.  I'm crying as I write this. 

Handling the conversation with Silas about historical, institutional racism in this country was hard for me.  Fortunately his world looks quite different than young Ron's.  His class at school beautifully depicts a good portion of the continuum of the skin colors represented in the world.  This is just how his world looks.  He has no preconceived judgments about people based on skin color and class and reaches out to everyone.  He is still mostly untarnished and undamaged by racism (although he got a clear picture of institutionalized, historical white privilege from this book).  I regret in some ways that he has met that concept so young. 

I'll be reading this book again on my own before it goes back to the library next week.  I have more than a few tears of outrage and sorrow to be shed about the heinous, despicable racism that has plagued this country and the injustice of white privilege.  Fortunately I also have tears of pride, gratitude, inspiration and hope that come from the examples set by people willing to stand up for what they know is right and do what is right, against incredible pressure to stay down and quiet. 

Here are a few other books on my personal must read and cry list.  I have to say that a few of these also grabbed Scott: 

Mrs. Katz and Tush, is another fantastic and healing book about bridging cultural divides and creating famlies of the heart.  I cry in remembrance of the dozens of reads.   

I Love You With All My Heart, Love You Forever, and On the Day You Were Born all touch that primal, visceral love and unbreakable connection between parents and children, and adult children and their aging parents. 

Wilfrid Gordon McDonald Partridge is about the generosity and purity of heart of a small person and the difference it can make it the life of an old person.  Miss Rumphius lives fully and leaves the world a more beautiful place. Owl Moon reminds us to create and share special adventures in nature with our children, and hold their hands as we walk through the scary and overwhelming parts so we can quietly embrace the wonder, awe and magnificence of the world around us.

Happy reading (and crying)! 

 

Practice Notes ::: practicing practicing

I missed my Saturday check in. Lots of reasons. Garage sale, lots of stuff to do, misplaced camera (can I post without a picture of some kind?), blah, blah. The truth is that it was a challenging week and I have failure (learning? observations? insights?) to report.

The big news: be careful what you put your attention on.

I learned this week (again for the hundredth time) that putting my attention on food, makes me eat food! I had a terrible summer cold last week, my periodic visitor arrived, I was prepping for a garage sale, craigslisting, and parenting through it all. I tried to journal my food, but kept grazing and grazing and grazing and stopped writing.

So, I decided this weekend that the flaw in my plan is that I want to focus on doing and documenting what I am increasing in my life. I'm still going to journal my food, but put my attention of what I am doing, not eating.

I know from experience that if I fill my life with the things I want, I become too engaged to go to the kitchen. There's no shortage of things I want more of, but wanting is not enough. I am learning again and again that if you aren't doing (practicing) the things you want, then you aren't really living. So, this week my focus is on the act of practicing practicing the things I want in my life.

::: physical activity (bike riding on errands, playing games and sports, water activities, etc.)

::: creative and/or productive projects

::: music

::: fun and laughter

::: water and green vegetables

::: inspiration (conversations, reading, the arts)

::: romance

::: courage to face the "full catastrophe" of living without numbness or insulation

Let's see what happens next, yes?

Weight: +0.5

Nourishment ::: on being hungry

"May this food and this setting/company provide genuine nourishment for my body, mind and spirit, so that I may be awake, aware and alive in every moment."

This is my prayer at meal times. I came up with it during the 30-day Nourishing the Whole Self workshop, which by the way is open for summer session registration (click the link).

When I think of food as nourishment for my life's work, it is much harder to eat loads of junk. This prayer also makes me notice how much broader and bigger nourishment is than just food, so when I'm "hungry" I can ask, what am I actually hungry for? It turns out that often it is for water, or sleep, or alone time, or touch, or laughter. Food is simply a convenient and ready response--a substitute that glazes over the real need with a veneer of numbness. The deeper needs are left unattended.

So, one week has passed. I've been writing it all down. Every bite. When, what and why I eat, drink, graze, nosh, bite, snack. I've also checked off number of vegetables, exercise, supplements, cups of water. I've noticed what has been genuine nourishment and what has been substance abuse. Here are a few things I've noted during my first week of journaling my food.

::: tiredness = lots of snacking, carb cravings

(I think the natural detoxing that occurs when eating less, drinking more water, eating more fiber also makes me tired.)

::: I am really, really thirsty, much more than I thought/knew

(I live in Houston where you can easily sweat off a pound just vacuuming the house!)

::: I need more fresh and raw foods, especially greens

(I probably eat more veggies than the average person, but not enough. Joel Fuhrman, MD, says that often we over eat because we aren't eating enough truly healthy foods to get the micronutirients we need. We are literally starving for nutrients while overdoing calories.)

::: I need more protein

(I read a fascinating article in the Nutrition Action Newsletter from the Center for Science in the Public Interest, about how we process protein differently as we age and that most of us need to eat protein with every meal. Low fat/calorie source of protein as a vetarian are somewhat limited. Legumes and more legumes.)

::: If I don't get my alone time in the early morning to write in my accomplishments/gratitude journal and read a little spiritual literature, things are much rockier during the day.

(This is a simple, but important way of nourishing myself, putting myself first, and setting me up to be a loving and not resentful caregiver.)

::: Being brutally honest with myself is good for me.

(It's fascinating to notice the impulse to lie to my self by not writing something down. How silly is that?)

::: I don't exercise enough.

(If I don't get it in the early morning, I don't get it at all. I don't have access to a place to exercise that has child care.)

WEIGHT: -1.5 pounds

Practice notes ::: working with resistance

[Note:  I just spent 30 minutes composing a post all about working with resistance and the breath only to get distracted and have my broadband stop working in the middle of saving it (it wasn't saved).  Ahh, the lessons continue.]

I named this new reboot of my blog "Breath by Breath" because my lesson in life right now seems to be that if I just breathe anything and everything is not only endurable, but can be received as a gift.  The very act of breathing with awareness brings me to the here and now, where all things (even a lost post that felt very profound and real) melt into the the eternal dance of give and take, cause and effect, loss and recovery.

During my practice this morning I was not breathing well.  I noticed again and again that I was holding my breath.  I was acutely conscious of every tightness in my body, every place I actively, voluntarily, rigidly held my musculature in place instead of finding steadiness and ease in poses.  

Little irritants loomed large. Each bead of sweat that dripped into my eyes.  The fact that my mat faced north rather than the east because the sun's angle was different at this later than usual hour of the morning.  The little interruptions inherent to a home practicing yoga mama/wife:  "Where are the checks?" [Scott] "I can't find the 'x' to close the Window" [Silas].  "Goodbye.  I love you"  [Scott] .

These acrobats actively tumbled on the field of my mind, just as the lack of ease in breath and posture registered in my awareness.  I recognized them as resistance. Internal resistance to being in this moment.  External resistance placed in my path as a test or challenge.

Will I let my practice get derailed?  Will I fight with myself or others over any of this?  Can I find equanimity despite it all?  Can I expand my repertoire and respond differently?  (That's a lot of "I"!)   One point of this yoga practice is to build strength and resilience, flexibility and responsiveness for life off the mat, right?

Resistance is an amazing teacher. Am I willing to be a learner?  

So, I persist.  I breathe.  I breathe.  I breathe.  Breathing itself goes on.  I will survive.  After all, nothing bad is actually happening.  

But, breathing with attention and intention isn't easy.  It doesn't flow.  I'm suffocating.  I'm resisting.  I'm still my (small "s") self--caught in my ego--trying to control things, trying to avoid things.  I breathe.  I breathe.  I breathe.  I ask for the grace and courage to meet this moment and this one and this one.  I smile at the absurdity.  I can't help but laugh at my (small "s") self who gets so bent out of shape trying to bend into shape.  

In reaching for my breath, I begin to untangle the knot of my resistance to this moment.  In reaching for my breath I reach for my (large "s") Self.  The breath is still ragged.  I feel sluggish.  This moment is guaranteed to morph into the next and if I keep breathing it will feel different, maybe more pleasant.  

But I know it is all illusion.  Beneath all of it (irritabilty, resistance, pleasure, pain) resides a place of calm, peace, equanimity.  The breath is the road that leads me to that place.     

 

Home crafts ::: Cleansing and letting go

I am tending a sick child today--one of the simplest things I get to do as a mother.  The priority is clear, the focus acute.  Nothing matters more than giving TLC.  My so energetic little one was asleep when I picked him up from zoo camp yesterday afternoon.  This is unprecedented for a child who hasn't napped since early fall 2009.  He has a little stomach virus, a little fever.  It will pass, but for today everything slows down a bit.  

While he was in camp for those precious 3 hours yesterday, I spent sometime playing Cinderella--cleaning ashes from the fireplace, scrubbing the tile surround, dusting, vacuuming, mopping, etc.--all at our "old" house.  The chores were mildly satisfying, but I was a little unprepared for the assault of emotion I received as the sun shone into the living room from the west around 6 p.m.  

I have watched the sun move across this room for 10 of the last 12 years.  For the last 5 years it's been part of my daily passage most days as I've been home with Silas.  A wave of grief siezed me as I caught that slant of light.  A torrent of memories swelled my head and heart.  I plan to write an ode to this house in which we have lived, and loved and learned--the greatest living, loving and learning of my life!  But, not today.  

Today I'm in our new home, caring for a recovering little one.  Living, loving and learning on this new day, where the morning light moves gently across the eastern-facing deck and the living rooms and the afternoon light casts rainbows across the dining room as it refracts through the leaded glass front door.

It's time to fully embrace this moment, this place, this life...with a heart full of love.

 

Practice notes ::: what am I doing?

[Swamp Boat Tour, East of New Orleans, LA, April 2011]

I like to get up early most days, do a little yoga, meditate for at least a few breaths, and read a little something inspirational while sitting outside and enjoying the view, the bird play, the morning breeze and the rising sun.  My day goes better when I get to do this before anyone else is awake.

One day not too long ago I was reading one of my two yoga magazines (I take Yoga Journal and Yoga International, both of which offer different good things).   All the wisdom blends together, but I took note of one suggestion that I've implemented daily since May 23:   

Document your accomplishments, large and small.  

The principle at work here is that your life follows where your attention goes.  And, if you note the things you accomplish, you will accomplish more--not in a productivity sense, necessarily, although for procrastinators that is not a bad thing.  Rather, in a full, rich, satisfying, purposeful life sense.  

If you are like me, you immediately forget or trivialize the things that you do.  I know I don't give myself full credit for the many small things and often don't notice or recall the important/good stuff. Consequently, I end up awash in feelings of meaninglessness; as if I haven't done anything worthwhile.  I'm in the middle of that swamp up there, knee deep in mud with no compass and gators lurking in the shadows, desperate to find my way to somewhere (anywhere).

So, I've tried this as an experiment.  Here's a typical day's entry:

June 3

a.m. 

• Remembered the importance of physical power work in managing anger.
• Sprinkler play with Silas and D/nice talk with K about moving down the street
• Cleaned out car of junk & trash
• Was moved by Silas' performance at drama camp show.
• Blogged a day ahead
• Deck time this morning
• Shared time with C

p.m.

• Gave Silas a lot of space to play in the surf (higher than I wanted to)
• Thoroughly cleaned and detailed car
• Played tinker toys
• Met and chatted with neighbors who are moving
• Made supper out of things on hand (Silas ate his veggies!)
• Cleaned up toys & made up guest room in prep for J to visit
• Sent e-mails to C & P

Nothing earth shattering here, right?  And of course it is only a smattering of what I did (what came to mind in the moment).   I can tell you that after a couple of weeks of this, my attitude has shifted.  I am more contented and focused.   I'm making decisions easier.  I'm resisting less often.  I feel more connected to my surroundings and people.  I'm more relaxed.  My life feels fuller and richer.  

I like it and I intend to keep it up.

I've kept a gratitude journal in the past and I like that ritual as well.  I see definite overlaps between that activity and this one.   The act of noting what I did (maybe the opposite of the "to do" list where I note what isn't done) is very rewarding in a different sense.  I reflect on my day and appreciate all that it was rather than focusing on what didn't happen or what I want to happen next.  And, I don't have the pressure of producing something I'm aware I'm grateful for.  As I simply review what I did each day the gratitude emerges in a global rather than specific manner. 

I certainly have goals, intentions and plans circulating all the time.  But in the end, what I do in this moment is what matters.  I hold out hope that this moment, approached with intention, leads to the accomplishment of longer term goals. Slowly I'm learning to let go of the outcome.  Perhaps the destination I have in mind is too narrow or small and something even better may come.  Staying open to the opportunities of this day may serve my longer term well being in ways all my best laid plans cannot.

So, I intend and plan to enjoy today as much as possible.  All the joys, hugs, play, laughter.  All the times I manage to overcome my weaknesses and resistance to see that my own perceptions are what stress me out. All the ways I notice that reality is usually benign and often quite amusing if my head is quiet and my heart is open. 

 

A mother's journal ::: gratitude list

 

Today as a mother, I'm grateful for:

:::  This information:  Crying, storming, etc. are natural healing processes, that if done in the presence 0f loving attention restore clear thinking, closeness, and natural playfulness and enjoyment of life.

::: A husband who works extremely hard at home and at his paid job, and doesn't have the habits of complaining or criticizing.

::: A confident child, who is playful, creative, fun, and siezes every opportunity for sharing his world with me.

::: A child who loves stories and is really into chapter books.  I get to discover children's literature I missed (we are currently reading The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle, after finishing 44 Magic Tree House books).

::: The big ball of orange sun I've watched rise over our "woods" the last two mornings, while enjoying some peaceful alone time, doing yoga, writing, having breakfast. 

Have a beautiful day. 

The (yoga) practice of homemaking and housekeeping

 
 
The endless cycles of food and meal preparation, dishes, laundry, cleaning, tending, bathing, bedtime stories, etc., may be accomplished in a rush and a fury ::: mindless, perfunctory, perhaps with a garnish of resentment.  They also may be savored in a quiet, meditative, mindful manner.  Sometimes they are even experienced as supremely blissful and joyous expressions of the highest purpose of humanity :::  service to and deep connection with the people and environments that nourish and sustain us.

I've certainly experienced all of these states in my time as a stay at home mama yogi.   How much control can I exert over this experience?  What are the predictors of one state or another?   How can I sustain a high level of awareness as I proceed through my daily round of chores and interactions about the business of life?  How can I grant myself grace and forgiveness when warranted? 

I'm reminded of Sri K. Pattabhi Jois' oft-repeated statement:  "Practice, and all is coming."  This statement has so many meanings for me:

-Practice my yoga and meditation and let go of the outcome.  Trust that somehow the discipline of practice will alter my consciousness and strengthen my resiliency for all the challenges I encounter.

-Practice the mental habits of mindfulness on regular basis (e.g., while washing dishes, bathing my child, etc.).

-Practice being a witness to my tone of voice, the state of my body, the thoughts/voice in my head, the reactions I elicit from others so that I can know myself, map out the mental and emotional terrain I'm up against, and strategize on my own behalf.

-Practice doing old things in a different way...say, yes instead of no; stay in PJs all day; be late for (or skip) school; tell a story instead of reading a story; leave the Legos out for two weeks.

-Practice honest communication.  If I'm tired, angry, hurried, anxious, own up to it and take responsibility for communicating that directly, asking for whatever help and cooperation would be useful, and making sure I let others know it's not their fault.

-Practice my arts and crafts.  The simplicity of a tangible product (like a "Spider King Crown" - more later) amidst the vast see of largely invisible, thankless, mundane and routine tasks is quite restorative.  Likewise, making music or drawing enables me to enter into a different kind of flow experience.  Creative expression is a powerful fuel for personal contentment, which in turn breeds patience, tolerance and freedom in relations with others.

-Breathe and breathe and breathe some more.  Slowly, deeply, and with a heart full of gratitude for the chance to try again.