Lisa Walford

6:30, very quiet morning. The steady hiss of the fireplace; associations: warmth, superficial fire, comfort… slipping into thought. Open again, listen. Can I hear space? the hiss is to my left. To my right, far away, faint, barely audible, cannot distinguish anything. Breath breathing me… slipping into the breath, that familiar breath. The sensations sweeping through the body…familiar. Open again, listen.

The breath is now a familiar practice that I refine, but listening is a new meditation skill. I find myself in all kinds of interesting “other” states, thinking, feeling, breathing, and find my way back to open again, and listen.

Breathing alerts me to sensations.
Listening opens me.

Breathing – body regulation.
Listening – tuning, attuned.

I jumped ship and found myself back in waves of thought, in the past or in the future, over and over again. Coming back to listening, back to the breath, back to the moment, with care, I recognize that I live – inside and out – in a river of constant change. This realization is a dynamic and freeing experience when I hold it kindly.

Breathing and listening help reinforce body regulation and attuned communication, two essential mechanisms of mindfulness according to Siegal. Body regulation helps sensitize us to the simple, immediate, and always accessible messages that the body delivers. Some people disassociate themselves from the body. They come to yoga thinking that our classes will help them, but we all know the student who is just not in their skin. The breath meditation supports awakening to a deep felt sense in the body. Attuned communication is what I would call active listening, resonance, or having a wide antennae. We tune in to one another so that they feel really heard, and we have a felt sense of resonating with them.

I begin again and again. Wait, watch, and witness how I embrace the practice, how I rewire the brain, how I open to conscious choice. Over time I have cultivated the patience that enables me to pause before reacting and that has encouraged some emotional balance. The channel I choose to listen to is my choice. I can listen to music and watch the sky at the same time. I can engage in a conversation and be attentive to inner messages of harmony or discord simultaneously. This is a skill I have built over time, witnessing the intuitive response in my body as I interact with the world around me. I do not consider it multi-tasking or splitting my attention. Rather, it is being more fully present and using more completely the range of skills this magnificent instrument my body-brain-mind offer. Conscious choice comes with and from the emotional balance that Siegal lists as another skill of mindfulness.

Body regulation – breath
Attuned communication – listening
Emotional balance – reflection

A friend recently explained that he began meditation many years ago to change his behavior. I found this incredibly honest and direct. Many of us say that we want peace in our life, to reduce stress, to sleep better. Many of our yoga students look to yoga for insights and inspiration into the magic and mystery of the life, bored or discouraged by the seemingly incessant drive for satisfaction from external sources. But few of us are ready to log in the hours and years that real transformation requires. In Donna Farhi’s book, Yoga Mind, Body and Spirit, she asks us to ask ourselves, “Am I becoming the kind of person that I would like to be with?” We may reduce stress, we may open our windows of perception to the magic in even the small things around us, and ultimately, the practice changes us in deep ways.

Psychology, psychiatry, cognitive behavioral therapy, drugs, AA, gestalt, shamans, catharsis, redemption, forgiveness, begin again. How can I live more fully, clearly, cleanly. Perhaps meditation is the latest wave. But I think that we have reached a crossroads where we are beginning to understand that the solution is not outside us. If peace will ever reign in this world, it has to start within.

Albert Einstein said some variation of this “Problems cannot be solved by the level of awareness that created them”. We know that we can shift the level of awareness quit dramatically through many mediums, including some of those listed above. What is actually happening in the body, and in nervous system, and in the brain? And are these as separate as we might once have thought?

New studies in psychco-neuorobiology and neuroplasticity show how interdependent the body is with the brain, and how pliable the brain can be with training. My interest in this process is addressed and researched by Dr. Daniel Siegal, a psychiatrist and clinical professor at UCLA, in work which he calls Mindsight. Mindsight is a mindfulness practice which the doctor uses with his clients to address emotional and behavioral complexes. He researches neural activity and the changes in the brain through various practices. He identifies the practical mechanism of mindfulness as:

• Body regulation – fight flight vs rest and digest
• Attuned communication – everything exists in relationship, resonance
• Emotional balance – equals equanimity, chaos and depression (rajas/tamas) deplete us
• Response flexibility – pause before responding
• Fear modulation – learning to control survival mechanism, anger
• Empathy – to be able to “see” from another’s point of view
• Insight – a me-map which enables us to see our own mind, witnessing
• Moral Awareness – behaving for the social good
• Intuition – having access to the wisdom of the body, “heartfelt” or “gut feeling”

This may seem like a thesis, but the mechanism is fascinating, as it points not only to the steps we must take off the meditation cushion and off the yoga mat.

In Jon Kabat-Zinn’s words:

“Mindfulness has to do with examining who we are, with questioning our view of the world and our place in it, and with cultivating some appreciation for the fullness of each moment we are alive. Most of all, it has to do with being in touch.”

Wherever you go, there you are.

I will summarize my readings of what happens in the brain in future posts. For now, it is gratifying to realize that the changes which happen gradually through the meditation practice are deep, and that they affect every part of my body and being. Jai Ho!

It was a particularly quiet Sunday morning, soft light. Initially I allow the monkey mind loose to satisfy its need to wander. After a few minutes I generally tire of that and find myself naturally either being drawn to my breath or opening to sound.

Listening involves every cell in my body; as if I were to become like the salt in the ocean, spreading everywhere equally. There is no center, no I, just presence. It is an active state, opening, listening. Perhaps there is a resonance in all things; call it prana, Shakti, grace. When we bring our palms together in Namaste to say “the light in me sees the light in you”; perhaps we can also listen with the heart as well as the ear, welcome life, and open to all experience.

Now I understand why this was called a meditation challenge. This morning I awoke with a migraine. The last one was six months ago, thank goodness. My parents suffered from them, and my brother is debilitated by them. Everything is a challenge with a migraine. I only take medication if the headache is really severe, and this one was a 6. I had an afternoon of teaching ahead of me, and did not want to feel altered from medication.

Stephen Levine once said that “suffering is resistance to what is”. When I sat absolutely still, relaxing every nook and cranny of my being, even the space between the scalp and the skull, then the pain hovered, it did not settle. Even a thought was movement. If I resisted in any way from the reality of the sensation, then I was overtaken by the pain. A migraine is a formidable teacher of mindfulness. I stayed open, present, quiet, and waited. An hour later the monster released my neck and bid me farewell. A whole new level of lovingkindness set in as I gently prepared for my day.

Learning opportunities are now, and now, and now again. Each one a celebration both of what is, when I am fully present, and of what I am becoming, aware, awake, and available to the miracles around me.

Why do I meditate? Why did I start to meditate?

Two very different questions. As a young woman I needed something that felt intimate and uniquely me, some way to foster a relationship with who I was and who I hoped I might become. I suppose that I ask those same questions now, twenty five years later. Only now I have walked with life long enough that I have shaped my own dreams, wrestled with sorrow, befriended ambiguity and grown extremely patient. Meditation teaches me to be patient; to wait, watch, and to witness the stories around and within me with loving kindness. We are all doing the best we can with what we have!

When I take my seat I know that my mind will wander. I know that my breath will soften, that my back will most likely round and that I may gently water the wilting body with my attention. I know that each practice will have its seasons. And I know that over time I have cultivated the ability to focus and to accept that I have a lifetime to learn. A lifetime to learn… and to accept things as they are.

“All forms of meditation strengthen and direct our attention through the cultivation of three key skills: concentration, mindfulness, and compassion or lovingkindness.” Sharon Salzberg

Attention means we take heed of something, we care, we respect, we attend to the nature of our focus. Concentration helps train the mind to focus. There are so many distractions, both inside and out, that it takes a concerted effort to will ourselves to stay tuned in. Distractions are a turning away from what we care about, they waste energy. Tuning in is satisfying, it is means that we are showing up for what we care about.

Mindfulness is wide. It is wise. And it is like white noise that takes in everything equally, without judgment, preferences or prejudices. And as the nature of things is constantly changing, we cultivate the ability to stay present in the moment; neither pushing something away that we think is unpleasant or craving for something else. Being fully present, mindful, means we care. And when we care, we are in touch with the goodness in ourselves, with lovingkindness.

That is why I meditate.