Wishing us all Peace...

From a TBO alumni…

I wanted to offer up a meditation practice that I wrote for myself based on the work of Thich Nhat Hahn. 

It is a series of couplets to read during a meditation focused on breath. I have them written on a set of notecards, and I rarely go through the entire sequence, but instead choose the ones that seem most appropriate at the time.  I repeat each couplet until I feel ready to move on. I always begin with the first one and end with the last three.  Sometimes those four are enough.  I hope that others might also find this useful. Feel free to use what is helpful to you and to ignore what is not. And to add your own couplets that are specific to your own experience. 

A survivor’s meditation for comfort in troubled times:

Breathing in, I know that I am breathing in.
Breathing out, I know that I am breathing out. 

Breathing in, I acknowledge that I am suffering
Breathing out, I know that I am worthy of care and comfort

Breathing in,  I gently turn my awareness to my fear
Breathing out, I know that I am strong enough to transform this fear

Breathing in, I see my fear as a wave passing through me
Breathing out, I know that I am the water

Breathing in, I know that this fear comes from my past
Breathing out, I know that I am safe in the present

Breathing in, I seek out the suffering child within me
Breathing out, I offer that child comfort  and peace

Breathing in, I bring my awareness back to the present moment
Breathing out, I know that this is a beautiful moment

Breathing in, I see my self as clear water,
Breathing out, I reflect things as they are

Breathing in, I feel the peace and serenity of the present moment 
Breathing out, I feel myself grounded in this grateful present.”

Wishing us all peace,

Dolores

Be Kind Anyway

The internet right now is overwhelmed with messages of hope and despair, often both at the same time. Extraordinary times creates extreme responses—for worse and for better. Sometimes it is mind-boggling that some people can be so cruel or selfish. And yet, it is utterly amazing to witness the self-sacrifice of so many in the face of these difficult times.

For survivors, these times can strike at the core of a history of neglect, betrayal and vulnerability. It may create a return to default positions, bad physical care, the old addictions, and the embedded remembered anxiety and fear.

There is little to say that you have not heard before—about self-care, compassion and kindness now. It can be difficult to care for others by actually taking care of yourself. It might even become more, not less, challenging as this pandemic drags on. Texts, calls, zooms can be exhausting. Sometimes the constant stream of information and social media can make one feel even more isolated. So while you are still in the bunker of COVID, you may not need so many words to be connected with those you trust and cherish. Share a joke or music, share your grief, share your love. It is what community means in a time like this. Be fierce about your kindness. It has what kept your soul in tact.

Rage & Tenderness

from whenonearth.net

Out
Of a great need
We are all holding hands
And climbing.
Not loving is a letting go.
Listen
The terrain around here
is
far too
dangerous
for
that.

 -Hafiz

Rage and Tenderness

This world can stupefy us with its cruelty... Our response to such suffering is often a helpless rage. Rage can be cathartic in the short term, that blast of power, noise or energy that can blow things apart or shut things down. And, often it goes inside, which sucks up the lifeforce. That is called depression.

Anger does carry power. It is loaded with energy and can provide a sense of worth. But, this kind of self-protection is not necessarily self-care. Whether angry or raging, the response of tension we experience from this comes from emotional hurt. It is a strategy of self-protection to tend to the hurt. Anger creates tension, rigidity and sometimes aggression, either within or without.

For a survivor, history and programming - and creating some semblance of safety- have been what one had to survive the assaults and the abuses. One might have used (or continue to use) fear, passive aggression, or manipulation as strategies instead of outright aggression. But this takes a toll on our bodies certainly-- and our spirit.

Is it possible to use anger and the energy it creates as a source of both compassion and power? Is it possible to see the point of view of the person on the opposite side of the political, gender, racial justice spectrum without diminishing our own truth or safety? Can we neither give our power away, or on the other hand, bully our way to what we think we want? If we have been the aggressor, or the one with the power to harm, can we find the ways or words to apologize without our own diminishment?

It has been an inspiration to observe that recovery itself is a form of activism.
We learn the ways to be mindful, to respond instead of just reacting. We track the ways that our abuses have conditioned us and break those patterns by mending our own minds. We perform inner brain surgery on our programming We also bear witness with fierce compassion to the suffering of others and of ourselves—as a response to the racism, illness, loss of life and work, and the struggle for justice.

Anger can work as a creative force, not a destructive relationship with others or within ourselves. But dealing with the inequities, the injustice and the abuses of this world calls for creating space between the stimulus and the response. Can we find that one heartbeat between so we can redirect and meet the situation instead of using our old habits and addictions. Can we re-member ourselves instead of resorting to the old patterns that no longer work and perhaps never did. It is why we need community, not just our own individual resources.

Then we can act, respond, serve, choose to engage or disengage—love.