Nurturing mind

‘Watching over water and over grain, shouldn’t everyone maintain the affection and kindness of nourishing children?

Dogen Zenji, in his ‘Instructions to the Cook’

Last month we looked at joyful mind, the first of the ‘three minds’ which were recommended by the famous Zen master Dogen Zenji for the monks in his monastery. The second mind he called ‘nurturing mind’, or parental mind. I think of it as the mind of ‘taking good care’. Dogen was the leader of a community, and he wanted to encourage a culture where people took care of each other rather than expected to be taken care of. The monks in his monastery would have been very serious about their meditation practice – after all, to become a monk requires a significant amount of sacrifice. It’s easy then to be focused on ‘my meditation’, ‘my gains’ and ‘my progress’. Yet Zen has a strong focus on community – for everyone to take good care of each other and of the buildings, grounds and belongings. Dogen was asking the cook to watch over the rice not as a task to be completed so that dinner could be served, but with the ‘affection and kindness of nourishing children’. The same would have been true of the many other daily chores around the monastery – washing clothes, sweeping the hall, raking leaves, cleaning the toilets.

How would it feel to bring this nurturing mind into the everyday aspects of our lives? To bring affectionate attention to folding the laundry, paying a bill online, filling up the car with petrol? We can bring into our day either an underlying attitude of slight impatience, or else of kindly presence. This sounds simple, but in fact reveals a lot about our basic approach to life – whether we’re holding back a little, or are really prepared to commit ourselves to being fully present.

‘The quality of mercy is not strained. It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath.’

This famous speech by Portia from Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice is about mercy, but we could also apply it to nurturing mind. At its best, nurturing mind is quiet and gentle, nurturing the soil of our lives with little moments of affectionate presence. While it requires a certain amount of intentionality, it’s not about trying too hard (straining) to be nurturing. Next month we will look at what Dogen called the ‘magnanimous’ mind, which is like a container providing a context for joyful and nurturing minds.

Mindful practice idea:

Pick an everyday physical task such as tidying, cleaning and so on, and for a week, experiment doing this task with either slight impatience, or affectionate presence. Do you notice a difference, and how does it feel?

Anja Tanhane

Joyful mind

The famous thirteenth century Zen master Dogen Zenji, in his ‘Instructions to the cook’ (Tenzokyokun), wrote about three minds which the cook (and anyone else who is practising Zen) should maintain as they go about their daily tasks. These three minds are joyful mind, nurturing (or paternal) mind, and magnanimous mind. We will look at these over the coming months, starting with joyful mind today.

When Dogen spoke of the joyful mind, he did not mean it in the sense of pretending to be happy when we’re not, or pushing away negative thoughts and only letting positive ones in. In his monastery, daily work was considered just as much part of a Zen life as sitting and walking meditation. He instructed the cook that when he was cooking, the cooking itself was the practice – not getting the cooking over and done with so that everyone would be able to eat, but simply cooking for the sake of cooking. We can find joy in these tasks because they connect us to each moment as it is. There is no need to be focused on outcomes, to feel we’re rushing through mundane tasks so that we can, at some time in the indeterminate future, arrive at the more ‘important moments’ in our life. The cooking is the life, as is offering the food we’ve cooked to others, eating the meal, and cleaning up afterwards.

One of the easiest and most profound ways we can cultivate a joyful mind in everyday life is through pausing, taking a breath, and allowing ourselves to feel a gentle half smile in our body. This smile is almost imperceptible, it is more felt than seen, and we can imagine it in our face, or behind our eyes, in our shoulders or heart centre or the belly. There is a world of difference between going through the day with a slight frown or a gentle smile. The half-smile brings a sense of openness, connectedness, and softening into our lives – it can be wonderfully restful and grounding.

We can also pause to appreciate how precious it is to have a human life where we can practise meditation and other ways of nurturing wellbeing. Our human lives involve suffering, but we also have countless opportunities to cultivate qualities such as compassion, equanimity, and joy. From a Buddhist point of view, living in the ‘heavenly realm’ is not conducive to good practice, as we have no motivation to try and improve the lives of others if we’re too comfortable in our own! There is also an acknowledgment that being in the ‘hell realms’, going through periods of intense suffering, can limit our capacities to fully develop ourselves, at least for a period of time when we’re just scrambling to survive.

Most of the time, however, we’re hopefully living here on earth, between heaven and hell, and this brings with it many precious opportunities. It is easy to miss these in the hectic distractedness of daily life. Yet our so-called ‘ordinary’ daily life can actually be the most reliable and effective way to cultivate a joyful mind, if we keep bringing this simple intention into our days.

Mindfulness practice idea:

Set aside ten to twenty minutes, and either in meditation, or through journaling, drawing or some other creative expression, reflect on the qualities of your human life which are precious to you. Choose one of these, and notice how it manifests in your everyday life for the next three days.

Anja Tanhane

Enjoying meditation

There is no doubt that meditation is not always enjoyable. Sometimes it can be hard work, even confronting. The aim of meditation is not necessarily to feel relaxed at all times, yet our meditation practice can also become a bit too earnest, involving too much striving for some desired outcome. Different times in our lives may call for varying emphasis in meditation. We don’t want to discover one way of meditating and then stick to that for the rest of our lives. It can be interesting to look at our personality and tendencies, and to consider how these might impact on our meditation.

If we have a personality which likes to take it easy and prefers the path of least resistance, then perhaps during meditation we can balance this out by being more willing to stay with difficult feeling states. On the other hand, if we tend to drive ourselves quite hard most of the time, then meditation could be an opportunity to practise being more gentle, less compelled.

Even on days when we feel quite stressed, we can make a conscious effort to enjoy one aspect of our meditation. This can also be true for any other time when we take the opportunity to pause for a few moments. For example, our mind might be quite busy with anxious thoughts, but the feeling of the breath in the belly might be pleasant. There may be a bird which sings from time to time. Our face might be at rest, or the ground may feel solid underneath our body. We might be aware that the sun is shining outside, or there could be the yearned-for patter of rain.

There are many opportunities for resting in a small area of enjoyment, even when our life is far from easy. Most of our moments, if we become more attuned to them, are like a painting with many different colours and shapes. There may be a dark corner, but also shimmering light, and a section in the left which is intriguing but doesn’t quite make sense.  We’re complex beings, and we can live more embodied lives when we embrace the full range of our experiences.

This includes enjoyment – enjoyment of the simple fact that we are alive and breathing and able to perceive the world through our senses. That is by no means the whole of meditation, but sometimes, perhaps, it is enough.

Mindfulness practice:

Sit for ten minutes, and allow your mind to rest on enjoyable experiences – something very simple, such as the softness of clothing against the skin, or a sound which is nice to listen to. Notice how it feels to turn the mind towards enjoyment.

Anja Tanhane

What is mindfulness for you?

‘While mindfulness, a once obscure term, has quickly become a coin of the realm, I prefer to call it affectionate attention. Whatever its name, this quality of attention is profoundly liberating. ‘ John Prendergast

In the last few years, the word mindfulness has become so ubiquitous that it is difficult to know what it means anymore. It has come to describe almost anything which involves pausing for a moment, sometimes for no more than a minute. There seems to be a heartfelt longing for more mindfulness in the lives of many people, and there are many different pathways to cultivating a greater sense of being mindful. So rather than trying to find one ‘correct’ definition of mindfulness, it could be more useful to ask ourselves what mindfulness actually means for us – for each of us as unique individuals. Why did we become interested in mindfulness in the first place, and why are we intrigued enough to stay engaged with the idea?

For me, one of the aspects of mindfulness which I appreciate most is having a greater sense of connectedness to my life – feeling more present within my life, rather than rushing through it on automatic pilot ticking off a never-ending list of ‘things to do’ as I go. There’s also a greater sense of friendliness, appreciation, and engaging with challenges rather than avoiding or inflating them, and these are all welcome benefits of a regular mindfulness practice. So mindfulness for me could mean ‘being present rather than absent from my life’. Music, gardening, walking in nature – these all help to cultivate this sense of presence as well.

When I teach mindfulness, it’s not uncommon for participants to share that they somehow feel guilty for not being ‘mindful’ enough, for not making the time to meditate regularly, for finding themselves caught up in unhelpful patterns. Rather than trying to attain some idealised state of mindfulness it might be more useful to ask ourselves – where does my yearning for more mindfulness come from? What does mindfulness mean to me? What practices are helpful for me, and what seems to easily lead me into a sense of mindlessness? Sometimes there are powerful reasons why we may struggle with mindfulness. We may have experienced traumatic events, including being bullied, spending time in hospital as a child, or having a parent who was moody and unpredictable. Or our current life may be so demanding there seems no room left for us to pause and reflect.

It is our inner motivation, our inner call, which can best guide us on our mindfulness journey. What is this inner yearning about? And if we didn’t call it mindfulness, what other word or phrase might best describe it for us?

Mindfulness practice idea:

Set aside ten minutes or longer to explore the place of mindfulness in your life. You could start a sentence, ‘for me, mindfulness means…’ and go from there, either through journaling, meditation, or some other form of creative expression. What did you discover? Which words stood out for you?

Anja Tanhane

Being mode

‘If we’re not careful, it is all too easy to fall into becoming more of a human doing than a human being, and forget who is doing all the doing, and why.’  Jon Kabat Zinn

We are known as human beings, but, as Jon Kabat-Zinn points out, life can sometimes feel more as if we’re ‘human doings’. Our days are filled with tasks we need to accomplish, often with a fair bit of time pressure, and even as we’re ticking off one task we’re already thinking about the next. Where, in this hectic hive of activity, can we find the time to ‘simply be’?

A mindful life is not just about stopping to pause from time to time, grounding ourselves for a few moments in the here and now – although those times are certainly valuable. Mindfulness is about bringing a sense of ‘being’ into all the ‘doing’ aspects of our lives, regardless of whether life is relaxed or hectic right now. So rather than rushing through our tasks half-heartedly, caught up in thoughts about something completely different, we commit to being fully present with whatever we’re doing, whether it’s writing an email, washing the dishes, or crawling along in a traffic jam on the way to an important appointment. Whatever it is, we bring our full attention to the task – we become fully embodied within it.

So what are the challenges to living in this way? It can be interesting to explore these for ourselves. Sometimes we literally have a lot ‘on our minds’, such as anxious thoughts which keep intruding. We may have people who keep distracting us, or constant notifications from our electronic devices. Other times it might feel easier to do something we don’t particularly enjoy with only minimal attention, as if this makes the unpleasant or boring task less real. To be a human ‘doing’ might feel like the path of least resistance, but if we spend a lot of time in this mode, we run the risk of feeling a sense of absence from our own lives.

Mindfulness practice idea:

Each day, choose one unexciting task and turn it into a mindfulness exercise. It could be brushing your teeth, folding and putting away your laundry, or washing the dishes after a meal. Slow down, and allow yourself to experience every aspect of the task, to embody it fully. How does this feel?

Anja Tanhane

Love the question

‘Be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart

And try to love the questions themselves.’

Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

A common question we might ask ourselves during meditation from time to time is simply – ‘what is actually happening right now?’ We pause, and bring awareness into our moment by moment experience. What is happening right now? Often there’s quite a lot going on. There are many layers of sound – everyday sounds, unusual sounds, sounds we perceive as pleasant or unpleasant, sounds we usually don’t notice at all. What is happening in our bodies? Perhaps our back is sore, and that’s all we are aware of. But there is also the contact between skin and clothing, between our face and the air around, there may be a slight feeling of hunger, and subtle sensations in the face. Where is our mind? How long since we were aware of the content of our mind? Is it focused, or jumping all over the place, or a bit of both? Are we experiencing any emotions? If yes, are there one, or two or more? Are they changing or fairly stable? Where do we feel them in our body, in our mind?

Another question we could ask ourselves is – ‘what is the point of all these questions? I just want to meditate, and then feel a bit more calm and relaxed…’

And yet another question – ‘why meditate?’

We can read about the benefits of meditation, and nowadays there is no shortage of research to indicate a wide range of positive effects. And yet, to start a meditation practice, and to keep it going, we usually look within. Yes, the research can seem compelling, but plenty of people live perfectly happy lives without meditation. Meditation is not so much an answer – ‘this is what has been shown to happen when people meditate’, but instead a curious, often playful, and sometimes challenging exploration of the state of our lives. What is really happening right now? Is it helpful for me to explore this, to sit with it, to be present to it? As Rilke said in his letter to the young poet:

‘Live the questions now

And perhaps without knowing it

You will live along some day into the answers.’

Mindfulness practice idea:

A few times a day, pause for a moment and ask yourself – what is happening right now? Try to be present to multiple aspects of the experience – physical, sensory, mental and so on. Notice how it feels to tune in like this.

Anja Tanhane

Being engaged in life

‘Who or what we are is defined by the quality of our engagement with this moment, whatever its content.’

Barry Magid

Most of us hopefully have memories of one or two teachers at school who stood out in the way they fostered a love of learning in us. When we reflect on what made these teachers special, it is often the quality of their engagement with us. They weren’t simply going through the motions of delivering the curriculum, but were really present to the class and responsive to us children as individuals. It’s likely that they kept good order in the classroom, but they didn’t withdraw or become spiteful when students acted up. To maintain a high level of engagement as a teacher year after year is quite a gift – there are usually all kinds of pressures within the classroom and the school system which can wear a teacher down. Yet to the children they teach, this consistent level of engagement can really allow their students to shine, and sometimes set them on a positive path for life.

In our own lives, the quality of our engagement with what is happening right now can fluctuate wildly from moment to moment. Sometimes we may be fully present, other times half-heartedly so, and we may also go through stages where we’re so distracted and absent-minded that we have little awareness of our lives at all. As we become more mindful, those times when we are absent can begin to feel like a loss – the loss of an opportunity to just simply be present in our lives.

Engagement doesn’t always have to be ‘over the top’ enthusiastic. Sometimes it can be more of a quiet presence, like someone sitting next to a hospital bed and keeping a silent vigil while their family member is sleeping. Engagement is really about saying ‘yes’ to our life as it is right now, rather than a conditional ‘maybe’ or even a ‘no’. And, as the quote by Barry Magid suggests, the quality of our engagement will play a part in forming the person we are.

When we are feeling disengaged, disconnected, what is really going on? A bit of escapism every now and then can be relaxing, but if much of our life is spent like this, what is it we’re actually missing out on?

Mindfulness practice:

Choose an activity you might usually do in ‘automatic pilot’ mode – perhaps cleaning up after dinner, or having a shower, or walking across a car park. Next time you’re doing this activity, pretend you’re a wonderful teacher who is teaching a child how to be curious, fully engaged and enthusiastic about this task. What do you notice?

Anja Tanhane

Obstacle as path

‘The obstacle is the path.

Zen saying

We hear a lot about the negative effects of stress, so it’s easy to think that any stress must be bad for us. And it’s true that chronic stress can place great wear and tear on our bodies and minds, and eventually become a leading cause of illness. Yet a life with not enough stress can feel boring, pointless. In such a life, our abilities and talents aren’t tested and developed, and we don’t have the satisfaction of rising to a challenge and emerging stronger and wiser.

In traditional Buddhism, the human realm is only one of several realms we can be reborn into. There are others like the heavenly realm, jealous gods, or hungry ghosts, the hell or animal realms.

We can think of these various realms as psychological states which we all pass in and out of at various times in our lives. For example, the hungry ghost realm is when we feel deprived, and nothing is ever enough, no matter how many possession or achievements we accumulate, or how much others are trying to help us. It is the realm of addiction and discontentment. The jealous gods are always fighting, trying to be superior and more powerful than others. The animal realm is the space of non-reflection, being driven by basic desires only. There is hell, which is a period of intense suffering. The heavenly realm, a state of blissful contentment, certainly sounds most appealing. Yet interestingly, the heavenly realm is not considered to be a good rebirth, as the heavenly beings have no motivation to practice kindness and compassion, to alleviate suffering, and to thus develop their better qualities.

Just like our lives, our meditation practice also passes through the six realms at various times. Yet sometimes we may be caught up in an expectation, whether conscious or not, that at some stage our meditation should reach the heavenly realm and remain there. No more dissatisfaction, strive and jealousy, suffering or ignorance! No more obstacles! This desire for the contentment and peace of the heavenly realm is very understandable, yet it can potentially stunt our meditation practice if it becomes our sole focus. We can spend time in blissful states during meditation, and these can be strengthening and supportive. Yet during the next meditation we may come face to face with jealous feelings against a good friend, and this ‘jealous gods’ meditation may ultimately be much more beneficial to us, and our friendships, than the time we’d spent in peaceful bliss.

The more difficult meditations are the ones which encourage us to change, to find new ways of approaching the challenges of our lives. We develop new capacities, new inner resource and an increased resilience. We become less reactive, and are able to see the bigger picture. If our life is currently like walking along a steep, stony path, then meditation won’t suddenly turn this into a comfortable shaded avenue. Yet meditation gives us the shoes which protect us from the sharp stones, and a wider ‘big-picture’ perspective which allows us to explore other pathways, rather than simply trudging along the same narrow path forever. Seen from this perspective, the obstacles don’t block our path in life, but assist us to grow and mature in our practice.

Mindfulness practice idea:

In the next few days, note times when you become frustrated by something, and take a moment to pause. Instead of getting upset, is there an opportunity to practise a virtue you value, such as patience, or kindness?

Anja Tanhane

A good meditation

‘A good meditation is one you have done.’ Shinzen Young

When we reflect on the expectations we have of ourselves, we might notice that we often tend to set the bar pretty high. This can be true for meditation, where we might feel as if everyone else in the world is meditating like little Buddhas, with their minds at rest in perfect peace and equanimity, and it’s only us who is struggling with intrusive thoughts, physical discomforts, an inability to focus for more than a few seconds, and general feelings of restlessness and frustration. In fact, virtually all meditators have experiences which are far removed from bliss and calmness, and each tradition has techniques for working with our inherently restless mind, and systems of thought for putting these experiences into context. This is why it can be difficult to learn meditation on our own, without a teacher – we don’t know what to expect, and how to work with the challenges which inevitably arise when we meditate regularly. It can be helpful to regularly be in touch with more experienced meditators who can guide us, by attending courses or meditation evenings or retreats. And if we’re fortunate enough to find a teacher we trust long-term, this can be wonderful opportunity to deepen our meditation practice.

Meditation is about seeing clearly what is actually going on – not getting caught up in avoidance or projection or excessive drama. Sometimes, what is going on are strong emotions such as frustration, sadness, resentment. We might sit down to meditation with the idea of gaining some relief from these, and then find ourselves confronted with the current state of our mind, with nowhere to escape to. Mindfulness meditation cuts off our usual escape routes, the many ways we might have at our disposal to avoid being with ‘life as it is’. We are left instead with the bare bones of our existence.

These bare bones can become the building blocks for a less reactive life, a life where we are more present, more grounded. Regular meditation involves simply showing up to the practice, and staying as present as we can during the time we have set aside for it, whether it be five minutes or thirty or an hour. Some days we may notice sensations of peace, whereas other days we realise that our mind is really quite busy today. As Shinzen Young says, a good meditation is one that you have done. Sometimes the most challenging meditations are the ones which are ultimately most useful to us, as they invite us into a different way of responding to the challenges of everyday life.

Practice idea:

Draw a line down the middle of a piece of paper, and on the left hand side, write down your expectations of how meditation ‘should’ be, and on the other side, some of the experiences you’ve had during meditation. What do you notice?

Anja Tanhane

Six simple ideas

Sometimes, a small adjustment can make quite a difference to our lives in the long term. Today I’d like to share with you six simple ideas you may like to try out sometime – I’ve had great feedback about them all. They are, in no particular order:

1. If you find yourself frowning, try a gentle half-smile instead. This is not about putting on a fake happy face when you’re not in the mood. Rather, the gentle half smile is very subtle, but can do wonders to lift our mood. You can think of it as being ‘behind’ the face, even in the heart centre or the abdomen. Play around with it – experiment with what feels right for you.

2. Practise (perhaps in the privacy of your home) walking around with a paperback book on your head. While this may feel like being in a deportment class in a girl’s finishing school, it’s actually the best exercise I’ve come across to really get a sense of where your head should sit in relation to the neck. Our heads are very heavy, and being slightly off-centre may cause tension in our neck muscles and shoulders. The book lifts your head up and into exactly the right position. You will walk like an Egyptian princess, and the rest of your body will send you grateful thanks. It’s also wonderful for those who practise sitting meditation – try it during meditation, and you may be surprised at the difference it can make to your posture, and to how long you can sit comfortably.

3. Learn diaphragmatic breathing. You might have heard the instruction ‘breathe into the belly’, but your lungs are in your chest – so how does that work? The diaphragm is a sheet of muscle below the rib cage. When your lungs are fully filled with air, the diaphragm is pushed down and the stomach expands. The easiest way to get a sense of this is to lie on the floor with a heavy book on your stomach, and to feel the book rise and fall. Later you can try it sitting and standing (without the book this time!). Diaphragmatic breathing is great for a number of reasons – firstly, we get more oxygen into our lungs, and thus also into our body. Diaphragmatic breathing also signals to the brain that you’re not in fight/flight (i.e. high alert and stressed) mode. So there can be plenty going on in your life, but your brain is receiving messages that all is well, and that you’re comfortable and in control.

4. Notice the ground under your feet as you walk. Whether it’s crossing the car park, walking to the photocopier, or strolling in a park – noticing the contact between the soles of your feet and the earth is wonderfully grounding. It connects us to our body and to the earth, and stops us from being so caught up in our thoughts. It’s worth practising this somewhere quiet, walking really slowly, where you notice the touch of the heel on the ground, the transfer of the weight onto the foot, then the weight onto the other leg. Once you’re familiar with this feeling, you can use this technique in everyday life, at your normal walking speed. Which brings me to idea number 5…

5. Slow everything down by 10%. Some people are naturally steady and well-paced in their activities, but most of us can do with slowing down a little. You don’t have to go from frenetic super-achiever to the pace of a zombie. But even a small decrease in speed might give you a lot more opportunity to simply be present with what is happening right now, rather than always mentally rushing ahead of yourself.

6. Start a gratitude journal. If you’re not already doing this, I would highly recommend it. Each night, I write down three good moments I experienced during the day – just a few words for each. They tend to be very simple, such as the opportunity to go for a short walk at lunchtime, or eat some vegetables from the garden, or have a nice chat with a colleague or neighbour. We’re hard-wired to be constantly on the look-out for perceived dangers or ways we in which we might be missing out. Taking the time to remember three good things which happened that day helps us to appreciate what we have, and to become more aware of the times when life is actually blessing us in many small ways.

I hope you find some of these ideas beneficial – let me know how you go with them!

Anja Tanhane