Sunday, September 30, 2012

White Space

A few months ago I re established my meditation practice. It was (and is) a non negotiable, peg in the ground practice that happens shortly after I wake up. However, it didn't start this way.

I would get up in the morning, make coffee, feed the animals and do some reading of the news and contemplate the things I'd like to do before getting off to work. Even though I'm an early riser, the progress of the clock hand would stress me out and even something as easy as doing a round of crunches or sitting still for a few minutes overwhelmed me. I would force myself to sit and then run out the door, hopefully with my lunch made and in time for my first meeting. This inner turmoil is completely invisible to the world because A> I don't talk to others about it and B> I'm habitually punctual when other people are involved.

I have a weird relationship to time in that I am keenly aware of its passage in terms of minutes, months and years. Unlike some who simply get lost in whatever they are doing, I can perceive the clock winding forward. Likewise, I also am aware of the passage of years and where I am in my life relative to how many I've accumulated. In short, I'm always somewhat experiencing a mid life crisis.



I was very frustrated with the daily drama of getting in meditation and I always felt I was in danger of falling off my practice. Getting myself to the cushion felt so stressful as did getting in my workout. Even though I knew both of these activities would benefit me, I felt like I couldn't breath adding them to my morning--it felt like too much.

I knew this was a ridiculous crisis--regardless of that I had to find a way through my discomfort. I could feel my life clock winding forward. I wanted to do more meaningful things with my time. At the same time I didn't want to feel crushed by activity--of never having time to breath. Everything takes energy and I know I only have so much.

Mid summer, after struggling but not abandoning my practices, I decided to build "white space" into my life. Another term I use for it is "purposeful boredom". I dropped my nervous activities and decided I would simply be still when I would otherwise drift into some undirected mental exercise. I substituted slow walks or just plain sitting. In those periods, instead of ingesting more information, I breathed light and air into my life. At the same time I made meditation and exercise non negotiable. I kept both to small quantities to prevent being overwhelmed by another crushing commitment.

What I found was that energy showed up. From that energy, I also received a reserve of concentration. The result was bandwidth to tackle the genuinely meaningful things. I started attending Sangha, I found time to write and work on art projects. I was also able to maintain an even keel at work despite mounting pressure and stress. 

Building concentration and mental expansiveness has been such a challenge for me as an adult. I'm easily distracted and overwhelmed. I'm a naturally curious person so I am always attracted to information--even the trivial stuff. However the flood of passive stimulation surrounding me continually threatens to hook my brain and throw off its delicate balance of dopamine, serotonin etc. Understanding this dynamic, activity and information look more like food to me now--I know I can improve my mental experience by choosing what enters my brain the same way I can choose how my body feels by what I put into my mouth.

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