6 Mindful Ways To Survive the Electoral Season

Although this post is specifically directed to U.S. readers, the suggestions can help in any potentially confrontational situation.

After the Republican and Democratic conventions, I realized that I wasn’t looking forward to the coming three months. Some very sharp divisions had emerged, and I had feelings about the candidates that differed from those of close friends.

I didn’t want to argue. I didn’t want to prove that I was right. With peace in mind, I set out to determine how I could survive August, September, and October. Here’s my list of tools.

1. My Friends are More Important Than My Opinions.

I treasure my friendships. I do not treasure my political opinions. In the end, no matter who wins the election, I will need my friends.

2. I Don’t Want My Ego to Be Running This Show.

In the final analysis, my political opinions are no more than an extension of my ego. My ego is the one who has to be right and who has to have agreement that it’s right. I want to live outside that constricting space.

3. Kindness is More Important Than Correctness.

I may disagree with people, but it’s more important to care about them.

4. It’s Helpful to Spend Less Time on Facebook.

There are many, many opinions on Facebook. I am tempted to respond to the absolutely ridiculous things that some people are saying. Such temptations should be resisted. One way to avoid temptation is to listen to a guided meditation instead of reading an idiotic post.

5. Life Goes On.

Unless it doesn’t, in which case it was really a waste of time and energy to get aggravated about political issues.

6. The Present Moment Is What Matters.

In the present moment, there are no ballots, political debates, or disagreements. There is only the spacious Now, and how I live it will determine how all following moments unfold.

Mindfulness and the Bodhisattva

In Mahayana Buddhism (practiced in Tibet, China, Vietnam, Japan, Korea, and Indonesia), a bodhisattva is someone who intends to become awake in order to liberate others. While most of us wake up wondering, “What can I do to make myself happy?”, the bodhisattva begins each day wondering what he or she can do to make others happy.

To do so, they don’t sink into self-hood (or ego), which they recognize as a false creation of the mind. It’s a state of “me-ness” that goes against the natural condition of oneness. Trying to hold the self apart and protected causes tension and pain. When threatened, the “me” gets angry. Observing “me’s who present more successful façades causes envy.

I was sure that this “me” obstacle would disqualify me for even baby bodhisattva status. Like many people working on spiritual awareness, I was always bumping into a stubborn ego. In the midst of wondering, I came across this quote by Thich Nhat Hanh:

“A bodhisattva doesn't have to be perfect. Anyone who is aware of what is happening and who tries to wake up other people is a bodhisattva. We are all bodhisattvas, doing our best.”

That opened new possibilities. I recognized that being mindful of my habitual negative (ego-driven) thoughts ultimately means accepting them instead of trying to bury them. The way to selflessness is not around the troublesome self but through it.

Developing deeper self-esteem satisfies the need for attention of an entity I have come to see as a lonely and generally unhappy three-year-old who built an ego to clothe her naked needs.

Self-acceptance provides a better wardrobe. The warmly dressed and deeply loved child who has assumed ego form can retreat to become the inner child who supports one’s joy, creativity, and faith. With that foundation, it becomes possible to turn one’s attention to the needs of others.

When we clear out space to accept ourselves as we are, we learn to accept others as they are. That kind of acceptance teaches us kindness and generosity.

We can say, “Just like me, this person suffers, feels guilty, has made mistakes, and wants to experience love.” Every time we recognize ourselves in another, we expand our capacity for mindful compassion.

This is surely the path of a bodhisattva.

Mindfulness Matters

This is not a political blog, but, in the aftermath of the police murders of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile, I have decided that I have to speak out here.

Several years ago, a state trooper pulled my car over because he didn’t like the way I paused before pulling onto the highway (which, by the way, was not illegal). He asked to see my driver’s license.

My bag was on the back seat of the car, and I could only reach it by getting out of the car. I opened the door. (This was a BIG mistake.)

The cop pulled a gun on me.

I am a small-sized, white senior citizen woman. If I’d been a young black man, I probably wouldn’t have survived the incident. As it was, I believed (and believe) that a cop who pulled a gun on a little old lady could go further. The wrong move on my part could have been fatal.

Doing my best to be calm and mindful (and still, very still), I said,” Officer, if you want to see my driver’s license, I have to get it out of my purse, which is in the back seat.”

The danger switch in his brain suddenly turned off. He asked me why I took so long to get onto the highway, and I explained that the habitually heavy traffic on that part of the road made it necessary. He looked at my driver’s license; he told me I could go. I drove very carefully.

“First, they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a Socialist.”

This line begins a famous poem by Pastor Martin Neimoller about the cowardly behavior of German intellectuals after Hitler’s rise to power. In the poem they take the trade unionists and the Jews. It ends:

“Then they came for me, and there was no one left to speak for me.”

The message of the poem fully applies to the present. Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayer, in a recent dissent in Utah vs. Strieff ( a Fourth Amendment case regarding whether an otherwise illegal police stop could be justified by an outstanding arrest warrant) describes those regularly targeted by the police as “the canaries in the coal mines, whose deaths, civil and literal, warn us that no one can breathe in this atmosphere.”

Girls and women know they may be sexually harassed, molested, raped, or otherwise attacked for being female. In 2013 more than 1600 women were killed by men. (That's reported deaths.) The Orlando massacre represented the greatest number of LGBTQ people killed in one incident but not the first.

Neimoller and Sotomayer point out that as long as any group can be violently targeted, no one is ultimately safe. To me, this means that when you stand up for the rights of others, you stand up for your own rights.

This is true not only politically but spiritually. Many religions share the theme that to relieve suffering is a spiritual obligation. Buddhism teaches us that all of life is interconnected.

This means that even if we can’t directly experience the suffering caused by a particular injustice, we share it. When we acknowledge that sharing, we are moved to relieve the suffering. This is not white or male or heterosexual guilt, it’s the understanding that what happens to one happens to all.

What action stems from that awareness? I’m seeing that question asked more and more on social media lately. I’ve seen some answers, too. For me the only answer is a question.

That question is: “What does love ask me to do?” Everyone must find their own answers, and those answers can only be discovered through mindfulness.

For tomorrow, Monday, July 11, my answer is to attend a march and rally in Springfield, MA to protest the recent killings.

If you find an answer or answers to direct your life, please let me know by posting.

Mindfulness and Independence

On this weekend that celebrates U.S. independence, I’m thinking about the foundation for true independence, a condition of much deeper freedom.

Mindfulness, I believe, is that foundation. When we allow ourselves to be mindful, to observe what goes on both within and without, we declare independence from the ego, who wants to tell us what we should notice.

The ego has a declaration of dependence in that its survival depends on noticing only what threatens or enhances its survival. It filters its observations through a thick veil of fear: that it won’t win, won't come out at top. It fears that it will land at the bottom. It fears its extinction.

Some observe that the ego acts like a child, a child who has lost its innocence, who has learned the adults it counted on for survival are also vulnerable and fearful. This child has also learned that to relax, to be in the present, to see without survival filters, is dangerous.

As a result, early attempts at reaching a state of mindfulness may, instead, bring up resistance from the ego, who doesn’t want us to see beyond it to the childhood experiences and decisions that created it.

Thich Nhat Hanh often says to smile at negative emotions. “I smile to my anger. I embrace my anger as if it were a crying baby.”

The first step in a declaration of independence from the past is to smile to our resistance. When we do this, it softens, little by little, and when we are ready to know the answers about how we became who we are, our deepest truth will speak.

The practice of mindfulness is a journey, and each step gives us a greater level of independence. This is true cause for fireworks.

Adventures in Mindfulness

My friends think I’m very adventurous because in June 2015 I moved from upstate NY to western Massachusetts. Although I had two close friends here, I basically had to get out and meet people—and I am an introvert.

Now, a year later, I’ve met many people, got involved in some major group activities, and am becoming integrated into life here. In addition, I’ve explored the area and know my way around. I did, however, avoid one adventure: going to the BIG MALL, the kind that has hundreds of stores and miles of parking lots.

This week, that opportunity, out of necessity, came to me. My Apple desktop started to make unpleasant sounds. After a phone call to Applecare yielded no results, I had to take it to the Apple Store at the big mall 20 miles away. This involved highway driving, which I’ve largely not done, to an unknown and quite possibly confusing destination.

I planned for it with mindfulness, looking up the best route, locating the Apple Store on the map of the mall, and telling myself that thousands of people have found this mall. I have read no reports of someone becoming lost forever there. Secretly, though, I thought I might be the first.

Before I left, I took time to meditate and center. I realized that—maybe—I could shift the energy of anxiety into that of excitement. I would be doing something new. I would be expanding my boundaries. I would be having an adventure. By no means was I sure about this, but I at least managed to make some space for it amidst the worry.

I got lost on the way there, ending up at a reservoir. There, I flagged down some nice people who told me how to get to the mall, a mere half-mile away. Huge as I had imagined it to be, the mall had three levels of both stores and parking.

To my surprise and relief, shopping carts abounded in the lot. This made the job of hauling the desktop to the Apple Store a lot easier. I was about to take a cart when a young woman walked by and offered to lift the computer into it. I so appreciated this kind act. (When you become a senior citizen, you learn how nice people can be.)

The guy at the Genius Bar was knowledgeable and explained everything he was doing. Though I was sad to have to leave the computer there for diagnostic work and repair of a failed hard drive, I felt it was in good hands.

When I got home, I saw one of the repair people from the complex where I live. He said that if I ever needed help carrying anything heavy, I should call him. He’d be glad to help.

Instead of a disaster, I had an adventure. I learned that I could find and negotiate the big mall and met friendly and helpful people.

Most importantly, I expanded both my geographical and mental boundaries. Am I ready for more adventures? Well, next month I’m invited to two picnics in unknown areas, and at one of them I don’t expect to know too many people. I’ll be there.

Adventures in Mindfulness

My friends think I’m very adventurous because in June 2015 I moved from upstate NY to western Massachusetts. Although I had two close friends here, I basically had to get out and meet people—and I am an introvert.

Now, a year later, I’ve met many people, got involved in some major group activities, and am becoming integrated into life here. In addition, I’ve explored the area and know my way around. I did, however, avoid one adventure: going to the BIG MALL, the kind that has hundreds of stores and miles of parking lots.

This week, that opportunity, out of necessity, came to me. My Apple desktop started to make unpleasant sounds. After a phone call to Applecare yielded no results, I had to take it to the Apple Store at the big mall 20 miles away. This involved highway driving, which I’ve largely not done, to an unknown and quite possibly confusing destination.

I planned for it with mindfulness, looking up the best route, locating the Apple Store on the map of the mall, and telling myself that thousands of people have found this mall. I have read no reports of someone becoming lost forever there. Secretly, though, I thought I might be the first.

Before I left, I took time to meditate and center. I realized that—maybe—I could shift the energy of anxiety into that of excitement. I would be doing something new. I would be expanding my boundaries. I would be having an adventure. By no means was I sure about this, but I at least managed to make some space for it amidst the worry.

I got lost on the way there, ending up at a reservoir. There, I flagged down some nice people who told me how to get to the mall, a mere half-mile away. Huge as I had imagined it to be, the mall had three levels of both stores and parking.

To my surprise and relief, shopping carts abounded in the lot. This made the job of hauling the desktop to the Apple Store a lot easier. I was about to take a cart when a young woman walked by and offered to lift the computer into it. I so appreciated this kind act. (When you become a senior citizen, you learn how nice people can be.)

The guy at the Genius Bar was knowledgeable and explained everything he was doing. Though I was sad to have to leave the computer there for diagnostic work and repair of a failed hard drive, I felt it was in good hands.

When I got home, I saw one of the repair people from the complex where I live. He said that if I ever needed help carrying anything heavy, I should call him. He’d be glad to help.

Instead of a disaster, I had an adventure. I learned that I could find and negotiate the big mall and met friendly and helpful people.

Most importantly, I expanded both my geographical and mental boundaries. Am I ready for more adventures? Well, next month I’m invited to two picnics in unknown areas, and at one of them I don’t expect to know too many people. I’ll be there.

Mental Carpentry and Mindfulness

I want to nail those doors shut against the temptation to re-open them. I am learning that the most effective carpentry technique is to get to the source of why, despite all my best resolutions, I want to go back.

An example: I am currently addressing a temptation to blame others for what goes wrong (and “wrong” is my interpretation) in my life. I have made many vows. I have made conscious decisions that I no longer wanted to participate in the negative thinking lurking behind that door.

It was like a New Year’s resolution. You probably know how well these go. That virtuous conviction that feels so good when you first commit to whatever major change you’re absolutely going to make deflates like a New Year’s Eve party balloon no later than January 2.

I think that’s because the temptation has such a powerful pull. In my case, blaming people is easy. It absolves me of taking responsibility for my feelings, thoughts, and actions. As surely as someone who self-medicates with alcohol or drugs, I surrender personal responsibility.

In other words, escape lies behind that door, and sometimes escape seems irresistible.

Understanding Why

We forget that the behaviors we’ve shoved behind that door once served a purpose. We evolved them to solve a problem. In my case, I experienced some major upsets in a short period of time.

Like all (or most) people, when something goes wrong, I want to know why so that I can keep it from happening again. This is very necessary survival behavior for all species. The deer learns that a human carrying a long piece of metal represents great danger and may develop the ability to sense the threat before its life is endangered.

Humans are hampered by tangled emotions and thoughts directed by an ego with an agenda. This agenda often involves deciding who’s to blame. Survival behavior can be either to avoid this person forever or to fight back.

I was doing the latter—but only in my mind. The low-key chorus in the background sang, “He’s ruined my life, which is hopeless because of him. I want revenge.” And on and on. And I thought I was actually hurting someone other than myself.

Listening at Low Volume

I’m learning to let the chorus sing without getting caught up in its dramatic arias. That means being mindful. It’s owning a feeling without shame. In its ultimate form, it’s unconditional self-love.

And that, I believe, is where we want to be. In that state (I think; I’ll let you know when I’m there), all the doors to past emotions and behaviors can be swinging wide open, but they offer no temptation. We have experienced and accepted their existence. We have faced their darkness, and that allows in the light.

Mindfulness and the Seth Material

Many people come to their awareness about the importance of the present moment through Buddhism. I am not one of them.

In recent years, books by Thich Nhat Hanh have helped me to use some new approaches for focusing on mindfulness, but my initial awareness of its importance came from The Nature of Personal Reality by Jane Roberts, who channeled the nonphysical entity, Seth.

To believe that such beings existed and that their information had value was my first challenge. However, once I started the book, that doubt vanished. My overwhelming sense was that not only was this information true but that I was being reawakened to something I’d always known.

Here is the essence of Seth’s message.

“The truth is this: You form your reality now, through the intersection of soul in flesh, and the present is your point of power.”

Seth goes on to explain that only the present moment has reality. We create both our past and our future within the present.

Rewriting the Past and the Future

The idea that we can change the past can challenge us. Here’s an example. A few days ago, I was having an episode of feeling sorry for myself because I felt abandoned by someone. When I thought about my past, I remembered all the times, from early childhood on, when I had felt abandoned.

I was seeing myself as a victim. Seth views this differently, saying, “You get what you concentrate on. There is no other main rule.”

If I concentrate on abandonment, I reorganize and rewrite the past so that this condition dominates my experience of it. To say I’ve always been abandoned implies that this pattern will continue in the future. This is really an energetic directive whose essence is: “It’s familiar; keep it coming.”

The future plays out according to my instructions. This confirms my belief, and I say, “See, I was right. Everyone abandons me.” Past, present, and future become a closed loop, invisible to mindfulness and awareness.

Let’s Not Rub Out Emotions

I’m not advocating repression of or resistance to emotions. Our emotions exist to tell us where we need to focus healing in the present moment.

If I’m feeling abandoned, I want and need to be mindful of that feeling. I will say, “Yes, I accept that I feel this way in this moment.” I will go a step further by tracing this emotion to my emotions regarding past events, and I will apply energetic healing methods (mostly meridian tapping) to them.

I will also remind myself about experiences when I felt included and loved. I will bring the feeling of those experiences into the present moment and concentrate on them.

Above all, I commit to being aware of what I’m thinking and feeling in the present moment. I choose to respect the immense power of the Now, which is my power.

And it is yours.

The point of power is in the present.

If you practice mindfulness in a Buddhist tradition, you might find it useful to explore the Seth perspective. The following link will take you to an article on sethnet.org, where you will find some valuable descriptions of the Seth Material.

To read Thich Nhat Hanh’s perspective on the present moment, see Our Appointment with Life: Sutra on Knowing the Better Way to Live Alone.

Fight, Flight, or Mindfulness?

Have you ever found yourself in a situation in which someone was pressuring you to make a decision, possibly a very important one?

Example: Your spouse tells you he’s been offered a job across the country. He wants the job, and he wants you to go along with his decision.

That’s a lot of pressure, and people never make their best decisions when they’re under pressure. That state activates the primitive brain, where the basic decisions consist of fight or flight. When your future as a live being depends on whether to fight or to flee, this fast-moving part of the brain is your friend. It will tell you what to do about the noise that sounds like a large, hungry animal and whether you should flee from or fight the stranger on your path.

We often have more complex decisions to make now, but the anxiety they arouse triggers our instinct to revert to the fight-or-flight mode of decision making. This doesn’t serve us in most situations. We can make decisions in our best interests, by consciously getting into a mindful state.

Steps Towards Mindfulness

First, breathe deeply. This takes awareness because our tendency in fight-or-flight moments is to engage in shallow breathing, which deprives our brains of oxygen, which further panics us.

Inhale and exhale for as long as necessary. You can enhance this process by placing both hands lightly on your solar plexus.

After that, you may want to meditate, do yoga, or chi kung. If you practice Reiki, you can give yourself a treatment.

One of the best things I’ve done for myself in a high-pressure situation is to use EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique). This consists of tapping on specific acupressure points while repeating statements (which will vary according to the situation). Research has shown that tapping can calm the primitive brain and restore calm and mindfulness to the mental processes. (For more information on EFT, you can go here. Once you feel more calm, consider the urgency of the decision. Do you really have to decide right away? By really, I mean 6 other people want the apartment, UPS has to pick up the package tomorrow, or your spouse has to decide about the job within 48 hours.

Consider—it may not be true, but consider it, anyway—that if a clear “Yes” or “No” aren’t coming up for you, “No” is often the best fall-back answer. This may lead to discussion, like “Why did you apply for a job 3000 miles away without asking me if I’d be willing to move?” This question could lead to an interesting conversation.

Sidestep Power Plays

Also consider that for many people, applying pressure on another is a form of exercising power over them. Recognize those who play such games, and walk off the court.

Play by your own rules. It’s your life and your decision to make.

I’d love to hear how you’ve mindfully handled a tough decision in your life. Please feel free to post below.

Mindfulness and Alice in Wonderland

Children's books are often rightly attacked for perpetuating dominant cultural modes: the white families of “Dick, Jane, and Sally,” the world of happy housewives, and countless other stereotypes.

For the many books that attempt to subdue rebellious impulses, there are at least a few that broadcast, whether consciously or unconsciously, subversive messages.

Recently I reread Alice in Wonderland, a favorite of mine in my childhood (mainly because of the cat). In this rereading, I found the book to be highly subversive in a way that I like.

For those who are unfamiliar with or who have forgotten the story, Alice falls asleep one summer afternoon and dreams that she’s in a very strange place with unusual beings of both the human and animal variety. She ultimately becomes involved in a croquet match involving flamingos as mallets, hedgehogs as balls, and playing cards as hoops.

The Queen of Hearts, who changes her mind about what she wants every few minutes, takes a strong dislike for Alice and decides that she must die, shouting, “Off with her head!” In the middle of this dream, Alice comes to awareness and realizes that the Queen’s army is nothing but a pack of playing cards. She knocks them all down and wakes up.

As a kid, I didn’t get the deeper meaning of this. I knew that dreams and waking reality were different. Only with age and some small degree of wisdom have I come to realize that waking reality isn’t all that real.

In our conceptions of our lives, we may have created details as bizarre as Cheshire Cats and Mad Hatters and feel that life is shouting, “Off with her head!”

Imagine a world in which you can be tall and proud when you think about your children and small and weak when you contemplate changing your career. No drugs are required in either situation.

Imagine believing you’re not as good as someone else—or better than someone.

Imagine thinking that you exist for any other reason than to realize your full potential and making a difference in the world.

Imagine waking up to the reality that such beliefs are nothing more than a pack of playing cards.

Another subversive children’s writer, Dr. Seuss, has this to say: “Why fit in when you were born to stand out?”

Can you think of one good reason?

Mindfulness and Delusions

When I was in high school, my family travelled from New Jersey to Wyoming, where we visited Yellowstone Park. While there, we had an incident with a mother bear and her cub.

In discussing it years later, we realized that none of our memories matched exactly. Two siblings said the bear chased us. One said “It was just there.” Another said it “followed” us. I remembered being chased, but I had forgotten that the bear chased or followed us all the way to our car and reared over it, giving us an excellent close-up view.

I tell this story to illustrate the deceptive nature of memory. How I remembered the bear had no major effect on my life. Memories, however, become significant when we assign a meaning to what we think is true and make decisions for the future based on our beliefs about the past.

We can use mindfulness to disrupt patterns based on false memories and interpretations. This process begins when we become aware that what we remember isn’t always true.

NO ONE KNOWS BEST

Being mindful is especially important with childhood memories.

You may have read or heard the notion that would-be parents should be required to pass a test at least as rigorous as a driving test. I agree. In many ways, we are the people our parents created. However, we have a potential choice about who we are. We exercise this choice when we question the truth of our memories.

We can discover and mindfully examine our childhood memories, especially those that don’t match what we learned was ideal family behavior. When I was growing up, the US media, especially TV shows, presented happy families. Things might go wrong, but these cheerful people made everything right again without even arguing about whose fault it was.

Where, I wondered, was my happy family?

I didn’t realize that the parent who never yelled, hit, acted stupid, who was sometimes vulnerable, and sometimes looked at you as if wishing to return to a childless state did not exist. I only knew that my parents didn’t meet televised standards.

Since then, I’ve come to a rational understanding of the cultural propaganda that encouraged me to believe that I lived in a psychotic setting (and, again, I realize that some people did), but I didn’t feel that maybe the comparison wasn’t serving me. If I felt it, I would have to forgive them and, even worse, let go of it being their fault that my life wasn’t perfect.

Because I avoided bringing mindfulness to my memories, they flourished in a fantasy land from which they governed significant aspects of how I viewed my life. As I worked on renovating Fantasy Land, it looked like a different place.

Mindful Memory Practices

1. The more positive and especially curious you can be about this, the better results you’ll get. See yourself as a treasure hunter. Once these gems come to the surface, their reflected shine will lighten you.
2. It can be difficult to admit that one was wrong. I ask myself, “Would I rather be right or be happy?”
3. Don’t force it. Sometimes the search is more about noticing what shows up in your life. Maybe you get invited to the wedding of a hated relative. That could be fun.
4. If at any point, reality is shifting too quickly, and you feel really uncomfortable, stop.
5. Come back when you feel strong, or if you want to explore the subject but feel you need assistance, call a coach or counselor.
6. Keep a journal. It makes good reading.
7. Remember that it’s a project that never ends. New discoveries are always waiting to be unearthed.

Mindfulness of Snow

Today, April 4, it's snowing and has been all day. My kitten, Roo, has been sitting all day in front of the sliding doors watching. Maybe she's tracking the fall of each snowflake. Maybe she's been lulled into a snow-induced trance.

To make it clear how much she's engaged with the falling snow, this morning, at the time when she expects treats and complains about the slightest delay in receiving them, she instead continued her snow vigil. Only later, when the snow had temporarily stopped falling, did she review her morning and remember what had been missing from it.

While she meditated, I agitated.

Snow in April, so unfair. Should I go to my chi kung class? I never miss it. It's only down the road, but the parking lot hasn't been plowed. My car is covered with snow. The roads might be unsafe. But I always go. I hate to miss it.

On and on the cycle of anxious thoughts went until it was clear that even if I suddenly changed my mind and decided to go to the class, I would be very late. Then I relaxed.

It is said that animals are creatures of habit that follow strict and unvarying patterns for the purpose of safety and protection. Yet this morning, I was the creature made anxious by a deviation from my invariable routine. Meanwhile, the animal forgot her habits and sat by the sliding doors, enraptured by the wonder of snow.

The Mindful Smile(with thanks to Thich Nhat Hanh)

“Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.”

Last week, I needed to smile, and I remembered that Thich Nhat Hanh frequently writes about the importance of smiling. I’ve collected some of my favorite quotations for this blog post.

The following explains why smiling is so powerful.

“When you don’t have joy and you smile, that is a real practice. You know there are something like 300 muscles, small and big on your face. Every time we get very angry or worried, all these muscles are very tight. When people look at you with that tension on your face, they don’t see you like a flower. People are afraid of you when all the muscles on your face are tense like that. You look more like a bomb than a flower.

But if you know how to smile, in just one second, all these muscles are relaxed and your face looks like a flower again. It’s wonderful…”

I’ve learned that smiling, even (or maybe especially) when I don’t feel like it, can indeed be the source of joy—or at least of a major mood shift.

Smiling means that we are ourselves, that we are not drowned into forgetfulness.

To smile restores my attention to the present moment. When I’m unsmiling and frantic, gloomy, or angry, I’m not usually experiencing the fullness of the present moment. I may be brooding over a past insult or rejection. I may be worrying about something in the future.

Suffering is not enough. Life is both dreadful and wonderful...How can I smile when I am filled with so much sorrow? It is natural—you need to smile to your sorrow because you are more than your sorrow.

To shift our focus to smiling helps us to focus on the present moment. A smile opens the door to appreciation. With a smile, we may go outside and enjoy the cloud-swept sky or the tender buds that will soon become leaves. We may pause to think of the people in our lives whom we love and value. We may smile to our sorrows and fears as we would to a small child who needs our love and comfort.

Thich Nhat Hanh offers this short meditation:

Breathing in, I calm body and mind.
Breathing out, I smile.
Dwelling in the present moment,
I know this is the only moment.

Thanks for reading this. I smile to you.

Here's something else to make you smile, "Smile," sung by Nat King Cole.

The Mindful Purr

Sometimes mindfulness is simply listening to your inner knowing.

In January 2016, I adopted a black feral kitten. Roo (short for Roisin, meaning “Rose,” and pronounced “Roo-sheen”) was five months old. She’d been feral until she’d been four months old.

This made her at best a difficult kitten to socialize. Feral kittens get socialized to learn what is safe and what isn’t during the their early months. Any unfamiliar experience can activate their desire to find safety. After two months of age, feral kittens are considered much more difficult to socialize. Many rescue organizations recommend that feral kittens four months or older be trapped, spayed or neutered, and released.

I was looking for a companion for my three-year-old black cat, Pangur, and I visited the web site of the shelter where Roo was living. I wanted a different colored cat, like a tabby or gray tuxedo. I wanted an older, less adoptable cat. One day, though, I noticed that Roo had been there for a month. Something switched on inside me, and I said aloud, “That’s it. I’m adopting her.”

I looked at the clock. The shelter opened in ten minutes. I got into my car with a cat carrier and drove there. All the way there, I argued with myself. What happened to the tabby, to the older cat? This was surely a very feral kitten. Was I acting impulsively? I kept driving, even though I felt like a lunatic.

I got there and visited with the kitten, who mostly hid from me. I decided that I had to hear one purr, even if it was tiny. I needed some confirmation of my intuition. After half-an-hour, I was ready to give up when I heard it, an infinitesimal vibration in her throat. “Do it!” intuition shouted, and I was mindful enough to listen.

Now, eight weeks later, I’m so glad I did. It’s been a process. She still runs away from me when she’s in active mode (since she’s a kitten, that’s often), but at night she sleeps next to me, and when she’s drowsy, she loves to be petted. She even lets me rub her belly, which to many is the ultimate sign of trust.

The best part of the story, though, is that my three-year-old cat, Pangur (another black cat) and Roo are inseparable. They play together, groom each other, and sleep together.

And when I look at this beautiful kitten, I remember how clearly intuition spoke to me and how mindfully I listened. Every time I see her, Roo serves as a reminder that the voice inside will never fail me.

Note: If you would like to adopt a feral kitten, here are some suggestions from Alley Cat Allies.

Mindfulness and Silence

If there is one thing people know about the Society of Friends, it is that in many meetings people sit in silence that is occasionally interspersed with people speaking.

After a long absence, I’ve been attending a Friends’ Meeting since July 2015. Someone told that Friends are encouraged to speak only when what they would say will improve on the silence. I contemplated this recently during a Meeting.

Whether I am sitting in Buddhist meditation, a meditation of Reiki practitioners, or Friends worship, I find the energy of the group very rich and conducive to my own meditation. It would take a lot to improve on it.

As I considered that, someone got up and delivered what I judged—and I use the word deliberately—a low-quality, long, and very boring message. Frankly, I was annoyed, and I decided to look at my annoyance. What I discovered surprised me.

I realized that I am constantly giving myself long and low-quality messages thick with repetitive anxiety, that I can remind myself that I have to do something countless times, and that my ego gives me other messages that do not improve on silence.

This gave me a powerful incentive to be mindful of what I’m thinking. That doesn’t mean that I will suppress. That’s what I have been doing. Instead, I intend to simply be aware of it, to allow it but not to feed it.

That resolution gives me contentment. I thank the boring Friend. Once I mindfully contemplated my reaction to his message, it turned out to have far greater value than I had imagined.

Mindfulness and Essential Oils

Mindfulness can be a multisensory experience. We know that beautiful natural sights and peaceful music can both relax us and focus our attention to the present moment. Scent, too, can have a calming and meditative effect. Think of incense in churches and the fragrance of a rose garden or a field of lavender.

Below, I’ve chosen oils that are known to have meditative and/or mindful effects. I included among them those which can assist in emotional healing.

I recommend not burning oils. The heat will damage them. Use a diffuser or a mister. If you are going to be meditating, you can also occasionally inhale directly from the bottle. They make a fragrant addition to a calming bath. (See cautions below.)

If your heart feels wounded, you could use bergamot. If you’re feeling emotionally vulnerable, reach for chamomile.

You can find a lot of more specific information about essential oils on the internet. Consider this a starting point.

Bergamot: Opens hearts closed by grief to receive and give joy. Helps hearts already open to direct healing to others.

Cedarwood: Cuts through mental blockages to deepen our connection to spirit. Excellent for deep relaxation, meditation and psychic work.

Chamomile: Calming and soothing, with a strong effect on anger and oversensitivity. Assists in loving communication.

Cinnamon (bark): Helps us connect with our psychic powers; used with visualization to create prosperity.

Clary Sage: Helps to encourage vivid dreams and clear inner visions. Also relieves stress.

Cypress: Helps with transitions, especially when involving decision-making; gives comfort and strength in the face of loss including that of death.

Eucalyptus: Psychic cleanser of negative energies especially from arguments or fights.

Frankincense: Historically a ceremonial oil, used to deepen breathing and elevate consciousness; helps to make us aware that reality is multidimensional; also helps break unwanted ties with the past.

Juniperberry: Cleans out negative psychic energy, including one's own feelings of un-cleanliness.

Lavender: Calming, balancing; helps us integrate spirituality into everyday life. Can assist in sleep.

Lemongrass: Stimulates psychic awareness.

Marjoram: Eases loneliness and grief, unites psychic and conscious minds.

Melissa (also known as Lemon Balm): Opens the heart center; good for anxiety, emotional shock, grief; assists in past-life recall.

Myrrh: Grounds spiritual energies, aids in meditation; helps us move through emotional and spiritual blockages.

Patchouli: A grounding oil which connects us to our physical selves.

Peppermint: Mental stimulant; balances both the overblown and the underdeveloped ego.

Rose: It is a healing and balancing oil with a natural affinity with the heart. Rose has the highest frequency of any oil, and raises the frequency of cells bringing harmony and enhanced well-being to the body and balancing personal will.

Rosemary: Psychic protector; stimulant which promotes mental clarity.

Rosewood: Calms without inducing drowsiness; an excellent oil for meditation.

Sandalwood: Stills the conscious mind so a meditative state can be achieved; helps free the mind from the past.

Vetiver: With its wonderful earthy smell, this is one of the most powerfully grounding oils.

Guidelines and Cautions

Choose only therapeutic-grade oils. I use Young Living Oils. I get no financial benefit from saying this. I just think they’re the best. If expense is an issue, it’s better to have a few high-grade oils than a lot of lower-grade ones that will deliver fewer benefits.

Skin irritants that should neither be applied directly to the skin or used in the bath include bergamot, lemongrass, lemon verbena, melissa, peppermint. If you're susceptible to skin allergies, place no essential oils directly on the skin.

Do not use if you have high blood pressure: cypress, rosemary

The information herein is not intended to replace the advice of a qualified medical professional. I recommend looking up any oil you contemplate using.

Is Mindfulness Dangerous?Part III

I’ve devoted two blog posts to writing about an article entitled, “Is Mindfulness Making Us Ill?” published in the “Is Mindfulness Making Us Ill?” January 23 issue of The Guardian. (In the first post, I described some of the misconceptions in the article about what mindfulness is and how it’s being applied in the UK. In the second, I explained why mindful meditation programs and retreats may not be for everyone.

In this post, I share how everyone can practice mindfulness on a daily basis.

This brings me again to the basic error of the Guardian article, which begins with the title. “Is Mindfulness Making Us Ill?” No. Meditation retreats led by unqualified individuals may activate long-held traumas, especially if sensory deprivation is a feature. Giving someone an app and telling him it will change his life is surely dishonest. Telling someone she has to take a mindfulness course or she’ll lose her job is frankly coercive.

We can, however, practice mindfulness in very simple ways because the basic concept of mindfulness is simple. It means to focus one’s attention on the present moment, a practice that’s essentially healing.

What can make us ill is to focus on the suffering and resentments of the past. We can also become ill from stress and anxiety as we dread the future. Mindfulness provides an antidote to past and future focus.

We can start in little ways, like small steps in exercise. One way would be to choose one activity per day to practice mindfully. It could be washing the dishes; it could be walking to work.

An activity I highly recommend is mindfully petting your cat or dog, who will thank you for this. Think of the many aspects you can focus on: fur texture, purring (cats), deep sighs of contentment (dogs and sometimes cat), how the chin goes up when you scratch it, the way the animal may bury his head in your hand. You can also learn from the animal’s gift of being fully in the present.

You can also practice “on-demand” mindfulness. Say you have a problem (you think) coming up in the future. You think about this problem during the middle of the night, and anxiety erupts.

Ask yourself if you can do one blessed thing about this problem at 2 a.m. Mostly likely, you’ll realize that you can only worry, which you’re already doing. It doesn’t seem to be helping.

Instead, try this relaxation method, which is a very basic and simple mindfulness technique taught by Thich Nhat Hanh. Slowly inhale and exhale, and as you do so, follow your breath.

Say to yourself, “Breathing in, I know I am breathing in. Breathing out, I know I am breathing out.” Or you can simply say, “In, out.” Breathe as slowly and deeply as you can.

When thoughts arise, don’t try to resist them, but don’t focus on them, either. Allow them to be and return your attention to breathing.

This is only a sample of how you can practice mindfulness.

Ask yourself questions. If you’re unhappy, agitated, depressed, or bored, ask what you’re thinking about. Ask where you are: in the past, future, or present? If you’re not in the present, bring yourself there. Do one of the above procedures or an engaging physical activity.

The more you focus on the present, the easier it gets. The easier it gets, the more enjoyable it becomes.

Mindfulness and Suffering

Does being mindful end suffering? Not that I’ve noticed. It can, however, change the nature of suffering.

In The Mindfulness Backlash, I wrote about the speed with which mindfulness is being marketed as a cure-all, which it is not. Mindfulness will not get you a new car, a better car, or a great relationship.

It also will not erase moments or longer time spans of suffering from your life. This sometimes seems unfair. If you can be serene, accepting each moment as it unfolds, surely, just as correct sanitation creates an environment in which germs don’t thrive, negativity should feel unwelcome in your mind.

However that thought reveals an inherent resistance. When I think it, I’m saying, “I don’t want negativity.” The statement that what we resist persists may be over-used, but that doesn’t make it less true.

It is often said that resistance is the source of all mental and physical pain. Take a moment to check out your body: neck, back, shoulders, wherever you may experience tension and pain. Think about some of the classic phrases related to physical pain and discomfort: “Pain in the neck,” “Don’t expect me to swallow that,” “I can’t stomach it.” Hear the resistance in these statements.

Imagine instead, waking up with a physical pain and surrendering to it, saying, “OK, pain, you win.” Some people ask what the pain wants to tell them, and this is an approach that can work for many varieties of suffering.

That person at work you can’t stand? (And how are your legs and feet doing?) Becoming mindful and going within may bring up a memory of someone of whom that person reminds you. Now you have an opportunity for release.

A situation that frightens you may represent the past intruding into the present moment and projecting into the future. A very common example involves people who are terrified about the idea of public speaking and who remember that when they were children, they suffered a humiliating experience in school. Suffering, when it operates in the background of consciousness, persists.

This is why the Zen Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, advises us to make good use of our suffering, to embrace it as a teacher, to understand that in suffering lies the key to its resolution and healing.

Yes, it takes courage and commitment—and mindfulness. When I can allow whatever is happening in the present moment, I may not suddenly become happy, but in the acceptance that I’m not in control of the situation, I can surrender to it and invite it to teach me. It’s not my fault; it’s not anyone’s fault; it is.

And that’s the beginning of peace.

Giving Thanks Mindfully

I don't always do this, but this Thanksgiving I'm going to make a list of the many things for which I'm thankful.

Among these things are the many examples of seen of people who have risen above the limitations of prejudice and bigotry to welcome those who need who need new homes and communities and to offer support to those who have been the victims of vandalism and hatred. 7-year-old Jack Swanson is a shining example.

A Small Boy's Generosity is Unexpectedly Rewarded.

We can also take comfort in seeing how animals don't see themselves as separated by species.

A Cat, a Fawn, and Louis Armstrong's Wonderful World.

If you celebrate Thanksgiving, I wish you a blessed day and reasons every day to feel blessed.