Seeing clearly: A personal story

Last week was the third anniversary of the aortic dissection three years ago which changed my life in many ways and about which I have written many blog posts. Reflecting on what has changed, I realized that I have been making obvious and subtle decisions that are having a bigger than expected effect on my life.

In July I realized for the nth time that I have watched a lot of sports during my lifetime, a lot! My father was an avid sports fan, and so I became an avid fan, living and dying with the ups and downs of the teams and people I rooted for. As I grew older, I continued to watch a lot of sports--baseball, football, basketball, the Olympics, golf, and more.

When I got back from the Peace Corps in 1981, I had become very involved in meditation, and I began to question the amount of time I was watching sports. My wife tells a humorous story several months after we met. I had come to her house on a Sunday afternoon to watch football. I was also crocheting a baby blanket for friends who were expecting a baby. She loved the contrast of me crocheting and occasionally yelling at the TV if there was a bad call by the referees!

Over the years, I made excuses for watching so much sports. When the kids were young and I was working so hard, watching games was important down time for me. Also, my father and I had very little in common other than sports. So keeping up with the sports he loved gave us something to talk about on the phone.

My father died two years ago, and I wondered if my sports watching would decline now that I no longer needed to stay current to have something to talk about with him. But the habit was deep. I realized that the addiction to sports was as deep as the addiction to cigarettes, which I started smoking in 1965. I tried to quit within two years, but it took until 1984 to finally quit.

One morning this past July, I suddenly saw with clarity that this obsession with sports just wasn't serving me anymore. That morning I decided to go cold turkey on sports for one week--no internet or TV. I also decided to do the same thing for news--no internet or TV. For the next week, the house was pretty quiet, though I would occasionally have soft music in the background. I spent more time reading, writing, and walking. Suddenly I had plenty of time! The week went by pretty quickly and at the end of the week I thought about what I had noticed.

What jumped out quickly is that my mind was quieter during meditation. That made sense because of the stimulation of watching sports or news. However, I realized that it was more than constant stimulation. It was also constant agitation—the loud commercials during the games and the tendency of the news channels to exaggerate and catastrophize because that sells!

At the end of my reflection, I decided to "sign up" for another week. A week later, I realized that during meditation my mind wandered less and when it did wander, it didn't go as far away. After that two weeks, I experimented and found that I could occasionally check sports and watch parts of games if I was tired, and I could check the news, but just on the internet.

My decisions connect to Skillful Effort, part of the 8-fold path in Buddhism. The Buddha talked about the importance of developing and maintaining healthy habits ( like generosity, gratitude, kindness) and letting go of and preventing the arising of unhealthy habits (like drinking, getting angry, and watching too much TV). A commonly used phrase in Skillful Effort is "guard the sense doors." That is, be mindful of what you allow to come into your awareness. If I had fully known the effect of so much time watching sports, I would have let go of this activity a long time ago!

Other more subtle changes
I have noticed more subtle changes that have also had significant effects.

Partly because of less attention on sports and the news, I am able to remember more often to move more slowly when I am in the house instead of rushing, another life-long habit. More often I can feel my feet on the floor and the sense of gracefulness as I walk around the house. I am remembering to shut cabinets. My usually leaving them open has both amused and irritated my family for 40 year! I am also preparing meals more slowly, enjoying cutting one carrot at a time instead of lining up three carrots so I can make the salad in half the time. By working slowly, I am remembering my physical therapist telling me that if I stand more upright when I am preparing food, my back will ache less. I am also typing more slowly rather than as fast as I can. Now instead of a typo every sentence, it's every other sentence.

While I still have times when I am several minutes into a meditation and still haven't noticed my breath, this is much less frequent. Off the meditation cushion, I am noticing more quickly when I'm beginning to get irritated or frustrated, or having feelings of despair about the future of the country and world, or worrying when one of my grandchildren is sick.

The Buddha taught many practices which can help us to see more clearly the consequences of our choices and actions. I have written about these in my blog posts and many of the people who have come to our Mindfulness Center and to the courses I have taught have also noticed striking and subtle changes in their life. Lastly I note that such changes are not just available from Buddhist practice. It is simply the practice that has worked best for me.

Choice, control, and slowing down

Between low energy from the aortic dissection and surgery and writer's block, I haven't written here for a while and a few people have emailed to see if I'm OK. I realize that when someone asks me if I'm OK or how I'm doing, one word just doesn't begin to answer it. In one respect I'm doing OK given the dramatic changes in my life that are the new normal: monitoring my salt intake (reading all the labels), taking my blood pressure and medications every day, and making sure to keep my heart rate under 100.

I realize that part of my chronic tiredness is the normal "I'm ready for winter to be over" and "I'm ready for covid to be over." I also realize that part of my tiredness is tinged with some depression at having to let go of so much. There's also some fear about going back into the world, e.g., to the local Co-op, to the local coffee shop. Last Saturday we were invited to a small outdoor gathering for a friend's birthday. The chairs were several feet apart and we were masked. It was such a joyful feeling seeing people face to face.  The next day I felt a bit down, and I realized that I wanted more. I'm guessing this is what many others are feeling too.  

Slowing down
While there is fatigue and a bit of depression, I am also finding it fascinating to actually be moving much more slowly through the world. This may sound weird to some, but for the first time in my life, I am flossing my teeth slowly. I can feel the floss as it moves up and down on both sides of the tooth. I am paying attention. When going fast, I'm already thinking of what's next. I am also catching myself more often typing as fast as I can, fingers flying across the keys, and I can feel the tightness in my shoulders and the back of my neck! I can also feel a more relaxed body when I type more slowly. By walking so slowly on the Ashuelot River I have seen things that I have never noticed in the 30 years I have walked on that path before.

I have written before (12/31/19) about our three intelligences: body, mind, and heart.  I can tangibly feel the difference in my body when I go slower and when I am speedy, and I feel good that these three systems are more aligned and integrated. Yesterday I totally blew it while working on our family's taxes. I recognized it while it was happening, but my desire to finish before dinner was much greater than my desire to go slowly. When I was doing the taxes as fast as I could, I was aware of my irritability when I couldn't find the information that I needed. Especially with something like an onerous task like taxes, I can now feel more tangibly the after effects for the rest of the day--slipping back into an old habit of focusing on what's not working/what's not right--with the world, the country, my state, my family. And by taking a few minutes to just breathe, I can often feel that negative energy dissipate, at least somewhat.

Choice and control
The last blog entry was on choice and this is one of the great benefits of slowing down. When things happen that I don’t like, I can feel my reactivity in my body, my mind, and my heart and then be more aware of the choices I have in how I respond.  My natural tendency is to try to control what I don't like--in myself, in others, and in the world. From having lived in Nepal, I have seen that there are other ways of being with what one doesn't like than simply trying to change it or "fix it." This has been a major gift of mindfulness. For example, some people are talking loudly at 10 pm at night on the street or a neighbor, bordering on OCD, is once again mowing the lawn and trimming the bushes, or a colleague has a voice that grates on me. I, and most Americans, could go on and on about pet peeves. When I visited my dad, the number of times I heard "you know what really galls me is. . ." was in the double digits every day.

I've found the thoughts of two meditation teachers to be very helpful in this quest to be with what I don’t like in ways that keep my heart open, my body less tense, and my mind clearer.

From Winnie Nazarko: "One thing we’re developing clarity about. . .is what we have control and influence over and what we don’t. How do we figure that out? By again and again and again and again, on levels gross and subtle, attempting to exercise control over what’s arising in the body-mind…and usually failing. Eventually the mind starts to realize, “Wait. This is actually suffering when the mind goes like that. Can I let go of that? Can I sit back and be more receptive and allowing?” In order to do that, the mind has to give up trying to implement its ideas of how things should be. But it’s not easy." 

From Pema Chodron: “The circle of compassion widens at its own speed and widens spontaneously. All we can really control is that we choose to show up, we choose to practice, we choose to do the best we know how to do, we practice with the skill that we possess right now. We cannot control the results. We suffer so much less when we realize and accept that simple truth." 

And so I, and we, continue to practice and live the best we can, sometimes happy with the changes we have seen in ourselves and sometimes frustrated. And we continue to practice!