O'Grady Psychology Associates

Psychotherapy, Marriage Counseling, Neuropsychological Assessment

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Learning to Notice What is Already There: The Rose Itself

Being aware of pleasant events is an important skill in mindfulness and Mindfulness-based cognitive therapy.Behavior therapists have long used a technique to distract clients from their difficult thoughts. The client wears a rubber band around their wrist; when they have an upsetting thought, they snap the rubber band so that the sting wakes them up and interrupts the thought. This always seemed silly to me. And when I tried it myself, it didn’t work very well. The reasoning behind the rubber band is that distraction from a difficult thought will interrupt, not just the thought itself, but also the chain reaction that painful thoughts set in motion.

Distraction works for children quite well. If a child is crying about a lost toy, we show them another toy and they forget what they were crying about. But as we get older, emotions become more complex. The typical pattern is that when something difficult happens, we make a negative appraisal about it. Then we start thinking about the difficulty, which brings up negative feelings, sending us down the rabbit hole of rumination and worry. For example, a co-worker points out an error you made. Your thoughts might go, “Oh no, a mistake. I shouldn’t make mistakes. I’m a fraud and my co-worker knows it. I’m going to lose my job. Everything always goes wrong for me.” Our often-silent judgment triggers mental elaboration of what could have been simple awareness of a thought or feeling in the moment: “I made a mistake. It feels bad to get things wrong.”

We often go through the day thinking of what’s next. We plan dinner and dread the grocery store even as we’re walking around our home or office, long before we actually get to the store. Being 20 steps ahead of where we actually are misses opportunities that exist in the moment. But what if some of those moments aren’t very good? Wouldn’t avoiding them just make sense? The problem is that avoiding thoughts and feelings that evoke sadness or anxiety usually just postpones problems while they get bigger. There are endless ways to distract ourselves from even benign feelings such as boredom, or the effortful focus needed to complete a project. Constant phone checking may keep us from feeling bored or focusing on what we should be doing in the moment.

I did 6 Google searches for ‘North Coast silver cuff raven steals the light’ –to find information about a bracelet I purchased at a thrift store over the weekend. Do I feel better for putting off writing this post? No I don’t feel better after my  search, but I tell myself, “Ok, that wasn’t a great use of time, but now I am back to it.” I don’t need to chastise myself, but I don’t need to continue to distract myself either.

Being able to experience our thoughts and feelings without judging them opens up the possibility for experiencing the richness of the moment. It may be as simple as feeling engaged with what we are doing, or acknowledging our humanness and bringing forgiveness to the moment.

In practices like mindfulness-based cognitive therapy (MBCT) and mindfulness-based stress reduction (MBSR), therapists have people keep track of pleasant and unpleasant moments in their day. This doesn’t have to be a tiresome homework assignment; it’s just jotting down, at the end of each day, something you noticed that was pleasant, or the opposite. By doing so, you can more easily increase awareness of the experiences when they are happening.

The most important component of mindfulness is attention to the moment. This awareness helps us notice what triggers ruminative thoughts. Rather than mechanically snapping a rubber band, we notice the thought and where our minds want to take it next. We don’t need to add to the thoughts, take them further, or elaborate on them. We also don’t need to classify or analyze them. Being attentive but nonjudgmental in this way helps us not only to let go of negative thoughts, but to notice pleasant things that may escape our awareness because we so often rush around, either literally or in our heads. As a result of paying attention to small bursts of pleasure, happiness grows.

In a commencement address to Colorado College, the poet Billy Collins described the power of mindfulness as being like an atom smasher:

Matter is composed of atoms and subatomic particles. Through the use of a particle accelerator it is possible to make these tiny bits collide which releases energy. Time, on the other hand, is composed of moments. And by arresting one of those moments, by concentrating fully on it, by smashing it under the intensity of your gaze, an energy will be released.

Poetry, Collins says, can help you slow down and pay attention, but you don’t need to be a poet. What do you notice right now? Are you aware of something pleasant—the shape and feel of your coffee cup and the color of your coffee, the song of a bird, or the light coming in the window?

In the same talk, Billy Collins says that gratitude “for simply being alive” goes along with mindfulness:

The taking of breath, the beating of the heart. Gratitude for the natural world around us—the massing clouds, the white ibis by the shore. In Barcelona a poetry competition is held every year. There are three prizes: The third prize is a rose made of silver, the second prize is a golden rose, and the first prize: a rose. A real rose. The flower itself.

Though we spend so much time worrying about the future or the past, it’s what’s real and present in the moment that is “the flower itself. “ To tell it another way, there’s an old Zen koan (teaching story) that illustrates these concepts.

 

Muddy Road

Tanzan and Ekido were once traveling together down a muddy road. A heavy rain was still falling. Coming around the bend, they met a lovely girl in a silk kimono and sash, unable to cross the intersection.

“Come on, girl,” said Tanzan at once. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her over the mud.

Ekido did not speak again until that night when they reached a lodging temple. Then he no longer could restrain himself. “We monks don’t go near females,” he told Tanzan, “especially not young and lovely ones. It is dangerous. Why did you do that?”

“I left the girl there,” said Tanzan. “Are you still carrying her?”

The whole way back to the temple, Ekido missed the birdsong, the breeze, and the fragrance of the cherry-blossom trees—and thereby deprived himself of the pleasure around him, just so he could fume and ruminate about what someone else did.

To increase mindfulness, try printing the chart below and filling it in each day. Make a point of remembering to notice just one thing each day that you find pleasant. If, like Ekido, you are still carrying unpleasant feelings, notice how far you take them, and see if you can find something in the moment that is even briefly pleasant.

Awareness of Pleasant Experiences

Instructions: For one week, be aware each day of one pleasant experience or occurrence while it is happening. At the end of the day, on this calendar or in your journal, record in detail what it was and your experience of it. (Click on image for a larger view.)

Keeping track of pleasant experiences during the day is a core component of MBCT and MBST.

 

 

 

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Maintaining Composure as a Parent and Householder

Parenting require finding balance and composureMaintaining a graceful composure when performing life’s demanding household and child-raising chores can take a toll, leaving us feeling depleted and out of balance. But practicing the postures and meditation of hatha yoga can restore that equilibrium. Yoga practice connects us to our bodies, and thus to our bodily wisdom if it is done mindfully.

Remember: If we don’t give to ourselves by taking care of our well-being, then we cannot take care of others.

One lovely pose (asana) to try is called lalitsana, the pose of royal ease. You can see this pose in statues of Yogini Hayagriva. Yogini translates as female practitioner of yoga. In Hinduism, the god Vishnu is one of three supreme deities, called the Preserver. One of his avatars (manifestations or incarnations) is the goddess Hayagriva, which means the “horse-necked one.” She is depicted sitting on an animal in a graceful posture, lalitasana, supporting her child with one arm. Both mother and child have horse’s heads. Hayagriva is considered to embody knowledge and wisdom. In this mythology, the horse pulls the sun’s cart into the sky every day, shedding light on the world. Symbolically, Hayagriva represents the triumph of pure knowledge, guided by God, over the forces of passion and darkness.

To assume the lalitasana pose, sit on a low stool, chair, bench, or firm ottoman with your left leg bent so that the sole of your left foot rests on your right inner thigh. Allow your right leg to extend, half bent, to the floor. You may notice a sense of ease and grace as your spine becomes aligned in this pose. This asana is similar to a half lotus pose, but sitting on a chair or bench allows the right leg and foot to drape down, without the strain that sitting in lotus pose can have on the knees.

Take this pose throughout the day when you feel restless and distracted. Even a few moments will help ground you so you can return to the tasks at hand with a bit more calmness. A few minutes of mindful breathing in this pose will enhance the experience. May all mothers and fathers feel this sense of comfort!

The horse head on the voluptuous human body reminds me that our being is composed of many aspects. Being a loving parent will look different at different times and stages of your life. Practicing yoga and meditation on a regular basis will help keep you limber and supple in mind, body, and spirit. We need this suppleness to stay open to the many ways life brings us into contact with our own darker natures.

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Standing Behind the Waterfall: Learning to Change Distorted Thinking with Mindfulness

Giving yourself a ledge to stand on as you watch your thoughts will help get perspective.
Getting a Different Perspective

Thoughts are not facts. When we’re upset, our thoughts seem valid—yet it’s exactly when our emotions get stirred up that our thinking can easily become distorted. Conclusions based on distorted thinking can’t be trusted.

When my friend Sharon returned from a business trip, she was feeling disturbed and uncomfortable. As she described her experience, she clarified why: She had been working remotely in Africa and knew few of the other participants in her company’s conference. She wanted to be included, but wasn’t part of the main team; she felt uncharacteristically shy and felt that her participation wasn’t up to her typical style. Sharon was aware of the tremendous talent that surrounded her and wished she’d had more opportunity to interact with her co-workers.

Taking a Different Vantage Point Gives Perspective When Thoughts Are Overwhelming

Sharon observed her feelings and thoughts with great skill, teasing out the mixture of sometimes conflicting emotions she felt, but importantly, she wasn’t condemning herself or anyone else. If her thought had been “I’m so inept, I can’t compare to these other people,” she might have gotten carried away with ruminations about her inadequacies. By asking herself “What is this I am feeling, in this moment?” Sharon gave herself a vantage point—feeling anxious is not the same as being worthless.

Teachers of meditation often use the image of the sky to illustrate how thoughts, like clouds, come in and out of our mind. The sky is always there, even when dark clouds momentarily obscure the sky. In another moment, the sky might be a brilliant blue with white downy clouds moving slowly or swiftly across its surface. We use these images to show that clouds come and go changeably, just like our thoughts, but mind and sky always remain. Sitting in meditation, we witness the changes of thought and feeling but don’t partake in them, just as the sky is unchanged by the clouds.

One of the exercises used in mindfulness-based cognitive therapy is that of standing behind a waterfall. Standing behind the rushing water and watching it without getting swept away by the torrent gives us a ledge to stand on, just as meditation gives us the perspective to look at our thoughts. We don’t have to believe everything we think, and we don’t have to be deluged by ruminations arising from anxiety or depression.

Try this short meditation:   

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Meditations on Humpback Whales: Mindfulness of Sights and Sounds

Tofo Beach, Mozambique
Tofo Beach, Mozambique

On a recent trip to Africa, I climb the bluff from which, I’d been told, I could see whales breaching. I have the strand to myself; September in Tofo, Mozambique, is not the season for beach-goers. I stand like a sentry as I gaze out at the Indian Ocean. I’m familiar with the Pacific, but this is new and thrilling, standing at the edge of the great continent of Africa where several oceans meet.

I scan the white caps for whales, not sure what to look for, not expecting to see them, but feeling excited and hopeful. White, foamy waves turn and tumble in a violent sea…but no whales—and I begin to feel like I have missed out on something important. Perhaps something that will give this long journey a special meaning, beyond appreciating seeing my family.

And then I settle into just gazing and waiting with no expectations. Letting the waves curl and furl as they will, but still letting myself settle into a comfortable place, a standing meditation on the waves. I notice in that stillness of mind the breeze has calmed. My mind has calmed and settled…and there, I spot what’s clearly whale blow, distinct from the wave spray. The sea water gusts up and disappears, and then I see the first of the whales breaching. An enormous black body thrusts up and crashes down in a huge swell of white that I’d have mistaken for another wave if I hadn’t seen the whole sequence. When I calm and settle, letting go of expectations and anticipated disappointment, whales breaching are there to be seen.

In fact, I see so many whales I lose count. I am alone on this bluff, feeling contentment I had not experienced on this trip until now, through patience and letting things happen without trying to make them happen: Allowing the experience to be just that, being with the waves, the sound of the surf, and the breeze. Feeling the sand under foot, and settling into myself.

Insight in meditation happens in much the same way. It is not the goal. Insight can be an outcome, but can’t be forced. Thoughts and feelings that come up during meditation should neither be pushed away nor clung to. Letting go of striving for any particular experience to happen allows for effortless inner quiet.

When I first looked at the ocean, searching for whales, I was craving to see them—and so couldn’t settle into the experience of just being there. But when I let go of needing the experience, my vision shifted and I saw clearly. The whales continued to slap the ocean’s surface, I continued to watch, but without getting caught up in excitement—which can be a seductive detour away from insight.

Splash
Splash

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The New Year, Rebirth, and Obstacles

Photo credit: Bahman Ferzad
Photo credit: Bahman Ferzad

By the third or fourth week of January, many of us are reevaluating our lives. We’ve either made resolutions (and perhaps already broken them) or we are resisting this ancient practice with awareness of the years of collapsed intentions when previous New Year’s hopes didn’t pan out.

Yet we continue to be drawn to the symbolic cycle of each New Year because we crave growth and change. Like the snake, the symbol of healing (seen in the Rod of Asclepius), we long to shed our skin and emerge from the constraints that hold us back.

Stories of rebirth offer hope that change is possible, and that we can be made new again. The parts of ourselves that we’ve outgrown—the aspects of our personality and our life that keep us stuck, can be discarded, making room for new growth. With each new year, we imagine ourselves in new light—and set intentions to change.

Images of rebirth in faith traditions, in myths, and in nature symbolize the cycle of death, liberation, and ultimately rebirth. The Phoenix, for example, is a mythical bird that was said to live 500 years, burst into flame, and then arise from its own ashes after three days. This image represents the recurring cycle of resurrection, immortality, and the indestructible nature of the spirit, as well as the pain and destruction necessary to this cycle.

In the Gospel of John, Lazarus is raised from the dead after being buried four days in a dark tomb. Jesus tells Lazarus—still wrapped in the cloth that bound him—to get up and come to the entrance of his tomb. He commands Martha and Mary, Lazarus’s sisters, to unbind their poor brother so that he can be free to live life with fullness. Imagine that you can unbind yourself from whatever darkness holds you.

The lotus flower is another symbol of rebirth.  The Sanskrit word for lotus, pankaja, means “mud-born.” Although rooted in mire and nourished by decomposed matter, the lotus rises each day and opens radiantly into the light. Throughout the day the flowers turn to face the sun as it moves across the southern sky. After sunset the petals close into a tight bud before the lotus descends into the murky soil of the pond or river. We are not separate from the earth. We grow from it and each day is a new beginning. All arises and passes away.

We must be willing to let go of parts of ourselves that do not serve us well. That might mean something as seemingly small as forgoing coffee in the afternoon so we sleep better at night, or as large as leaving a job or relationship that no longer fits who we are becoming. Growing into our fullness requires that we accept the mud from which we come.

Photo credit: Bahman Ferzad
Photo credit: Bahman Ferzad

The butterfly is a ubiquitous symbol of transition, growth, and rebirth because of how the crawling caterpillar enters its cocoon and is transformed into the delicate and graceful winged butterfly. But this process needs effort to work, as Paulo Coelho describes in his Dec. 2007 blog entry “Lesson of the Butterfly.” A man watches “a butterfly struggling to emerge” and decides to help it by cutting open the cocoon, but the butterfly never flies, never even opens its wings, remaining shrunken and shriveled:

What the man – out of kindness and his eagerness to help – had failed to understand was that the tight cocoon and the efforts that the butterfly had to make in order to squeeze out of that tiny hole were Nature’s way of training the butterfly and of strengthening its wings.

Psychotherapy is not painless. People wanting to change must face fundamental aspects of themselves that no longer (or never did) serve them. The obstacles we confront help us to be whole; avoiding them never does.

It’s popular in social media to present lists of “5 ways to cure” this or that. Such lists simplify and distort what is often difficult inner work. Some psychotherapy sessions are smooth and feel-good, but if every session is like that, the work may not be deep enough—for surely change involves difficulty.

We can be born anew each day, and in every moment. Many traditions teach lessons about renewal. Mindfulness meditation, when done regularly, can provide the foundation to live each moment and then let go of it as the next moment comes.

What are the important images in your life, and what do they say about you? Find the images that form inside you, as you listen to stories, poetry, or in the silence of the meditations. Your image could be a butterfly, a lotus flower, even a humble loaf of bread (which can’t be made without punching and kneading). Allow images to form in your awareness, and then bring insight and understanding to what they might symbolize.

Think of a story that was central to you and your development. For me, the tortoise and the hare was important, and one I have returned to many times in my dreams and as I face challenges.

You cannot live without dying. You cannot live if you do not die psychologically every minute. This is not an intellectual paradox. To live completely, wholly, every day as if it were a new loveliness, there must be dying to everything of yesterday, otherwise you live mechanically, and a mechanical mind can never know what love is or what freedom is.

~ J. Krishnamurti

We need stories to grow.

Habits are hard to change. There are ways to help you keep realistic resolutions. This NY Times article summaries several studies that show ways to make good habits stick.