I have belonged to a book club for about a year. Tonight I made it to my second meeting. Several times in recent months I was on work-related travel and unable to attend. At least twice, I intentionally missed because I hadn't had time to crack open that month's book.
We had a meaty 90-minute conversation. I discovered the members are well-educated, well-read, and thoughtful. I found myself remembering things I hadn't thought about in years. The evening was stimulating.
About an hour into the dialogue, I shared something from my undergraduate years that I hadn't thought about for a very long time--something as an undergraduate I wanted to learn more about "when I had time." Of course, I never had time or more accurately other things were priorities. Breaks between terms were always too short for the things I wanted and needed to accomplish. As soon as I graduated, I headed to grad school, where there was hardly time to breathe.
Grad school was followed by starting my own business; anyone who has done that would laugh that I might have time to go research something of interest, but the truth is, by then, the thought was long forgotten. As testament to our amazing brains, although forgotten, certainly not gone, just lingering in the gray matter eagerly awaiting attention.
Almost immediately my train of thought in the last paragraph began to chug through my reverie. I consciously felt myself exhale. Until this month, I can't remember when I wasn't racing from one thing I had to do to another thing I had to do, rarely taking time to breathe much less check in on what I wanted to do. In my exploration time, I can exhale...regularly and often, and take time for things I want to explore. That's the point: learn about things that interest me.
I knew that taking time to exhale was something that I will relish and I wanted to write about it. Yet, as I sat down to write the title of this piece, I believe I heard a chuckle in my ear: "Inhale first." Then I chuckled. How many times have I suggested to coaching clients to "breathe"? Yet from that crazy treadmill I've been on, I haven't taken time to either exhale or inhale.
Even though I had made a commitment to write for this blog every day, I sat and explored the topic that has been sitting in the back of my brain, awaiting attention for decades. It fascinates me still. I know that I will investigate more this weekend.
In the meantime, I will exhale...and inhale...and exhale...and inhale...just like it was a normal thing to do, because I think it is.
Showing posts with label breathing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label breathing. Show all posts
Thursday, February 2, 2017
Tuesday, September 29, 2015
The Accelerator is Stuck!
This afternoon I went into the kitchen at work to toss together the ingredients for the lunch salad that I'd prepared the night before. As I was racing around, I man said something to me that just totally shocked me into consciousness. He said, "You have no where to be and nothing to do. Take your time."
Since sometime in late 2000 or early 2001, I've been racing. In the early years, the dot.com bust had tanked my business, and I was attempting to right it before it sank. I raced. When I failed at that, I started teaching. To earn a living as an adjunct college instructor requires teaching a lot of classes. That means lots of class preparation, paper grading, test making, and office hours. Up at 4 a.m. most days, my evening classes usually ended at 9 p.m. I raced all day. Then when I got a consulting job that paid a normal salary, the expectation was that I'd work almost every waking hour to justify the salary. I raced. I often fell asleep over my computer.
You get the gist.
I've been racing so long, and I think my accelerator has been stuck in overdrive. When Thomas said to me, "You have no where to be and nothing to do," you could have knocked me over with a feather. For years there have always been five other things I should be doing and back-to-back meetings. But, not now. Of course, I had no where to be, and nothing I had to do. For a few seconds, I didn't know what to make of that.
When I finally got my head around it, I went into the lunchroom table, and I did something I've rarely done in the last 15 years. First, I breathed. Then, I sat down, ate my lunch, and chewed my food. I tried to see if I could make my food last for 20 minutes. I had conversations with two interesting new coworkers. With one, I shared Italian food/cooking stories. My creativity kicked into gear as I thought about things I haven't cooked for a while, and mentally, I played with variations I might make. I took a full 40 minutes for lunch.
I've been "loaned" by my employer to work for the Combined Federal Campaign (CFC) for 4-1/2 months. I needed a break from the pace of work I've been keeping for years and from the toxic work environment in which I have found myself, which increasingly seems to be spinning completely out of control. I applied for the opportunity and was accepted. Tomorrow I will have been there for a week.
There are times when we are very busy, but on each end of most days, there is time to catch my breath and to do paperwork, return email, make calls, and even to do analysis about how to improve campaign performance. Such a luxury.
Today when Thomas made his life-changing comment to me, I'd been in overdrive for about four hours. In my "regular" job, that wouldn't have slowed down for another seven or eight hours, and when it did, I'd be looking at a ton of email and prep for the next day. Today, my four hours of overdrive was followed by delicious sanity...and lunch, of course.
I've read a number of different estimates of how many days it takes to develop a new habit. Some say 30 days, and others report 21. Some longer, others shorter. But, I have 4-1/2 months to practice breathing, walking at a normal pace, eating lunch, being creative, talking to coworkers, and just generally enjoying myself at work. Surely I can form a useful habit in 4-1/2 months that I can take back to my "real job" with me. That will definitely be my intention, and taking a new habit back to work with me will certainly be a wonderful investment in my life.
Since sometime in late 2000 or early 2001, I've been racing. In the early years, the dot.com bust had tanked my business, and I was attempting to right it before it sank. I raced. When I failed at that, I started teaching. To earn a living as an adjunct college instructor requires teaching a lot of classes. That means lots of class preparation, paper grading, test making, and office hours. Up at 4 a.m. most days, my evening classes usually ended at 9 p.m. I raced all day. Then when I got a consulting job that paid a normal salary, the expectation was that I'd work almost every waking hour to justify the salary. I raced. I often fell asleep over my computer.
You get the gist.
I've been racing so long, and I think my accelerator has been stuck in overdrive. When Thomas said to me, "You have no where to be and nothing to do," you could have knocked me over with a feather. For years there have always been five other things I should be doing and back-to-back meetings. But, not now. Of course, I had no where to be, and nothing I had to do. For a few seconds, I didn't know what to make of that.
When I finally got my head around it, I went into the lunchroom table, and I did something I've rarely done in the last 15 years. First, I breathed. Then, I sat down, ate my lunch, and chewed my food. I tried to see if I could make my food last for 20 minutes. I had conversations with two interesting new coworkers. With one, I shared Italian food/cooking stories. My creativity kicked into gear as I thought about things I haven't cooked for a while, and mentally, I played with variations I might make. I took a full 40 minutes for lunch.
I've been "loaned" by my employer to work for the Combined Federal Campaign (CFC) for 4-1/2 months. I needed a break from the pace of work I've been keeping for years and from the toxic work environment in which I have found myself, which increasingly seems to be spinning completely out of control. I applied for the opportunity and was accepted. Tomorrow I will have been there for a week.
There are times when we are very busy, but on each end of most days, there is time to catch my breath and to do paperwork, return email, make calls, and even to do analysis about how to improve campaign performance. Such a luxury.
Today when Thomas made his life-changing comment to me, I'd been in overdrive for about four hours. In my "regular" job, that wouldn't have slowed down for another seven or eight hours, and when it did, I'd be looking at a ton of email and prep for the next day. Today, my four hours of overdrive was followed by delicious sanity...and lunch, of course.
I've read a number of different estimates of how many days it takes to develop a new habit. Some say 30 days, and others report 21. Some longer, others shorter. But, I have 4-1/2 months to practice breathing, walking at a normal pace, eating lunch, being creative, talking to coworkers, and just generally enjoying myself at work. Surely I can form a useful habit in 4-1/2 months that I can take back to my "real job" with me. That will definitely be my intention, and taking a new habit back to work with me will certainly be a wonderful investment in my life.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Going to school
My life has seemed to go in cycles. For a few years life flows swimmingly. Money, relationships, health, and career all work well. Then, for no apparent reason, one day it shifts, and life can be very difficult for the next few. While I certainly think the easy times are much more fun, in truth, I am sure that the difficult ones are more important to the evolution of my soul.
I think of the difficult times as when we are in "spiritual school." It is easy to have faith when everything is easy. I have learned the most about faith when it is tested. Like in the life of the Biblical Job, if we are able to remember that we are on a spiritual journey, we come out the other side stronger and closer to whatever we consider the divine. When things really fall apart, we are going to spiritual graduate school.
When I was publishing a book each year, writing several newspaper columns, consulting globally, and delivering a reasonable number of keynote addresses, I had lots of people around me who loved me. Then the economy went bust...and my business with it. Suddenly, most of my "friends" evaporated. I found out who my true friends were. I would never have learned what makes a real friend without those times.
Similarly, I won't ever really learn about forgiveness and gratitude until I need to forgive someone for a particularly wicked deed and then take it one step further to expressing gratitude for the deed. Twenty years ago a friend and I would talk about "being in lesson" at moments like that. We would know that there was a spiritual purpose for our challenging times. The more challenging the times, the more we were sure we were "in lesson."
School goes in other cycles too. A different friend and I were talking over dinner Sunday about the same lessons that seem to keep showing up in our lives every few years. In my belief system those repeating lessons are ones that our souls signed up to master. But, with each cycle, we learn something different.
I am a bit reluctant to announce at this early stage, but I feel a difficult cycle is approaching an end. You may recall that a few days ago, I wrote about feeling as if I were pregnant (11/2/12.) I've been restless and keep feeling like I have been about to deliver something. Today, I think my "baby" is an easier stage of life. In several arenas in life, I feel little breakthroughs, harbingers of better times. I feel as if it might almost be safe to relax. Ah!
While I look forward to easier times, I am cognizant of being truly grateful for the years I've been "in spiritual school," maybe this time for a spiritual post-doc.
I think of the difficult times as when we are in "spiritual school." It is easy to have faith when everything is easy. I have learned the most about faith when it is tested. Like in the life of the Biblical Job, if we are able to remember that we are on a spiritual journey, we come out the other side stronger and closer to whatever we consider the divine. When things really fall apart, we are going to spiritual graduate school.
When I was publishing a book each year, writing several newspaper columns, consulting globally, and delivering a reasonable number of keynote addresses, I had lots of people around me who loved me. Then the economy went bust...and my business with it. Suddenly, most of my "friends" evaporated. I found out who my true friends were. I would never have learned what makes a real friend without those times.
Similarly, I won't ever really learn about forgiveness and gratitude until I need to forgive someone for a particularly wicked deed and then take it one step further to expressing gratitude for the deed. Twenty years ago a friend and I would talk about "being in lesson" at moments like that. We would know that there was a spiritual purpose for our challenging times. The more challenging the times, the more we were sure we were "in lesson."
School goes in other cycles too. A different friend and I were talking over dinner Sunday about the same lessons that seem to keep showing up in our lives every few years. In my belief system those repeating lessons are ones that our souls signed up to master. But, with each cycle, we learn something different.
I am a bit reluctant to announce at this early stage, but I feel a difficult cycle is approaching an end. You may recall that a few days ago, I wrote about feeling as if I were pregnant (11/2/12.) I've been restless and keep feeling like I have been about to deliver something. Today, I think my "baby" is an easier stage of life. In several arenas in life, I feel little breakthroughs, harbingers of better times. I feel as if it might almost be safe to relax. Ah!
While I look forward to easier times, I am cognizant of being truly grateful for the years I've been "in spiritual school," maybe this time for a spiritual post-doc.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Everything is Planned to Teach Me Love
Some days as I go through my affirmations, one will particularly resonate with me, and then it hangs in the back of my mind all day. Today when I got to "Everything is planned to teach me love," the statement wouldn't let go of me and whispered to me all day.
Even before I got to the office, I was pondering, "Why does something need to teach me love?" The immediate answer seemed to be that I don't know love. When I focus on breathing into my heart, I am sure the "vibration" that I feel is God's love. By extension, since I believe that we are all connected through God's love, I am sure that it should be the same or similar.
Yet, I don't know that I've experienced that feeling with any human being when I know I should feel it with all human beings. Hmmm... Maybe I don't know love, or don't know how to feel love. Or, just maybe, I've guarded myself so that I shut others out. Ouch! That again.
I believe that part of our basic equipment as humans is to be able to give and receive love. Is it possible that my equipment is so under-used and rusted that it has forgotten what is basically human?
One of my favorite little books is one that has been around for awhile, called The Knight in Rusty Armor (Robert Fisher.) The book relates a parable about a knight who has lived in his armor so long that he can no longer take it off at the end of the day when he is done doing battle. Only when he weeps at not being able to hug his family do his tears cause pieces of his armor to drop off.
I sense his experience may be similar to what occurs to well guarded hearts, like mine. I haven't cried...yet. I have been overwhelmed with a deep sense of loss about all the people I have "loved" intellectually in my life but for whom I have thought it was just too risky to really open my heart. Well, I didn't really "think" the risk part in a conscious sort of way. I am pretty certain, though, that it was happening in a less-than-conscious way. Now I realize that whatever damage I thought might be done to my heart could only be exceed by the sadness at not having really let "my people" in.
I feel like a toddler at this, taking my first wobbly steps. I am certain that I need something to hang onto as I steady myself, and my heart tells me that something will be God's love--it will be my compass teaching me love.
Even before I got to the office, I was pondering, "Why does something need to teach me love?" The immediate answer seemed to be that I don't know love. When I focus on breathing into my heart, I am sure the "vibration" that I feel is God's love. By extension, since I believe that we are all connected through God's love, I am sure that it should be the same or similar.
Yet, I don't know that I've experienced that feeling with any human being when I know I should feel it with all human beings. Hmmm... Maybe I don't know love, or don't know how to feel love. Or, just maybe, I've guarded myself so that I shut others out. Ouch! That again.
I believe that part of our basic equipment as humans is to be able to give and receive love. Is it possible that my equipment is so under-used and rusted that it has forgotten what is basically human?
One of my favorite little books is one that has been around for awhile, called The Knight in Rusty Armor (Robert Fisher.) The book relates a parable about a knight who has lived in his armor so long that he can no longer take it off at the end of the day when he is done doing battle. Only when he weeps at not being able to hug his family do his tears cause pieces of his armor to drop off.
I sense his experience may be similar to what occurs to well guarded hearts, like mine. I haven't cried...yet. I have been overwhelmed with a deep sense of loss about all the people I have "loved" intellectually in my life but for whom I have thought it was just too risky to really open my heart. Well, I didn't really "think" the risk part in a conscious sort of way. I am pretty certain, though, that it was happening in a less-than-conscious way. Now I realize that whatever damage I thought might be done to my heart could only be exceed by the sadness at not having really let "my people" in.
I feel like a toddler at this, taking my first wobbly steps. I am certain that I need something to hang onto as I steady myself, and my heart tells me that something will be God's love--it will be my compass teaching me love.
Monday, October 21, 2013
Feeling My Heart
In less than a minute, I can transform my world. All I need to do is to close my eyes, concentrate on my heart space, and "breathe into my heart." I can't really explain how I "breathe into my heart." I understand the physiology of breathing which involves nose, mouth, windpipe, bronchial tubes, lungs, and diaphragm. There may be other parts, but I am fairly confident that the heart isn't one of them.
Yet, as I concentrate on my heart while I am breathing, something magical happens, my heart seems to get bigger and "vibrates"--a warm and wonderful sensation that defies description. Even more remarkable is when I imagine the breath coming through the front of my body directly into my heart. All I need to do is 3-5 of these "heart breaths" while saying "I AM." It reminds me that I am here to reflect God.
Every bit of tension melts from my body, my jaw relaxes, and suddenly I am able to be present only to what is in front of me.
What is really remarkable, other than a part of my body that isn't supposed to be involved in respiration actually "breathing" is that I don't do this more often during the day. I am back to work again today, and as much as I had pledged to stay present--to reflect God and receive God from others--I quickly slipped into autopilot. I was nearly home when I noticed the tension in my shoulders reminding me to breathe into my heart. Almost as fast as I had the thought and started to breathe, the magic happened, as it always does.
This should be a no-brainer, but clearly the only "no brain" part of it for me is no brain between my ears engaged in remembering how simple it is to connect. Another choice point for me--that time and place when I become conscious, recognize that I have a choice, and choose differently...in this moment. For this moment, I am choosing differently.
Yet, as I concentrate on my heart while I am breathing, something magical happens, my heart seems to get bigger and "vibrates"--a warm and wonderful sensation that defies description. Even more remarkable is when I imagine the breath coming through the front of my body directly into my heart. All I need to do is 3-5 of these "heart breaths" while saying "I AM." It reminds me that I am here to reflect God.
Every bit of tension melts from my body, my jaw relaxes, and suddenly I am able to be present only to what is in front of me.
What is really remarkable, other than a part of my body that isn't supposed to be involved in respiration actually "breathing" is that I don't do this more often during the day. I am back to work again today, and as much as I had pledged to stay present--to reflect God and receive God from others--I quickly slipped into autopilot. I was nearly home when I noticed the tension in my shoulders reminding me to breathe into my heart. Almost as fast as I had the thought and started to breathe, the magic happened, as it always does.
This should be a no-brainer, but clearly the only "no brain" part of it for me is no brain between my ears engaged in remembering how simple it is to connect. Another choice point for me--that time and place when I become conscious, recognize that I have a choice, and choose differently...in this moment. For this moment, I am choosing differently.
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