Tag: meditation

Grateful by Christina Knowles

Every year about this time, like most people, I reflect on the things for which I am grateful. But what does gratitude look like when you’ve just been diagnosed with cancer?

A cancer diagnosis will shake anyone, and I admit, I took a few days to cry about the scary and unknown outcome of my diagnosis. But as a self-labeled secular pagan Buddhist, I know what I should be doing, and by should, I mean what will alleviate suffering. When the reality of having cancer hit me, I told myself to just breathe, to be with the breath. If I could just focus on the breath right now, where nothing bad was going to happen, I’d be okay. I mean, I could get hit by a bus tomorrow, and this diagnosis wouldn’t have meant a thing, right? None of us know how long we have or what the future holds. That’s why we need to live in the only time we are sure to have, right now. 

And ironically, as the doctors were giving me the bad news, they told me how important it is to stay positive. At first it was hard to be positive about having cancer, so I just told myself to focus on what I know I am grateful for. The more you practice gratitude, the easier it becomes, even when you wouldn’t expect it to be. Sometimes gratitude just sneaks up on me, and I’m overwhelmed with the realization of how absolutely beautiful this life is, and how extraordinarily lucky we are to be here experiencing it. This feeling will sometimes come upon me so suddenly that I am caught breathless, or I am brought suddenly to tears with the recognition of it.

So what about now? Am I lucky? Absolutely, it turns out I am even luckier than I knew. With the news of my diagnosis, the generosity and compassion of friends and coworkers astonished me. Every day someone is offering me so much more than support. They are offering me time and themselves. My friends offer to take me to appointments, take me out for girls’ nights, bring me food, do my laundry, travel across the country to take care of me, talk to me for hours on the phone, or text me first thing in the morning and last thing before I go to sleep. I don’t really need anyone to take care of me, at least not yet. I have my husband, Randy, and he is my rock, but I love knowing that they would be there when I need them. 

Today, at the cancer center, I felt so cared for by the staff, nurses, and doctors. They are so professional, compassionate, and kind. Any recovery I make will be mostly due to them and the scientific progress they are committed to. But there is so much more to be grateful for everywhere I turn. So, according to tradition, here is my list of things I am grateful for this year.

  1. Gratitude: I am grateful that I have the ability to be grateful. I love that a sunset or a beautiful piece of music can bring me to tears.
  2. My husband: Sometimes you really hit the marriage lottery, and I did. My husband is everything I want and need. He is loving, gentle, compassionate, real, loyal, and always, always there for me, but most importantly, he makes me laugh.
  3. Friends and loved ones: I always say I have the best friends in the world, and I really do. My friends are the kind of friends I can tell anything to and be accepted. I am lucky enough to have deep friendships that stand the test of time and distance. One of my very close friends is coming to stay with me during and after my surgery in December. This is a huge sacrifice as she has work and a family, and well, it’s in December—and she doesn’t like rain. I have so many friends in Colorado, but I also have such good friends here in Oregon, and we’ve become close in the four years I’ve lived here. I have several friends here that I can lean on whenever I need to.
  4. Great coworkers and a good job: I am so lucky to work with the best group of caring people to whom I am already getting attached. The benefits of my job couldn’t be more ideal for a person in my situation. Plus, I actually like going to work.
  5. Oregon: I can’t say enough about how much I love this place, from the spectacular waterfalls to the snow-capped peaks, from the giant moss-covered trees and lush ferns to the dramatic rocky coast. I love that it rains all winter, the grass is literally always green, spring flowers pop out in February, and a weeping Alaskan cedar grows next to a tropical palm tree. How cool is that?
  6. Home: I love my cozy little home. We call it Storybrook Hollow because inside it is a fairytale cottage mashup of a Hobbit hole, a medieval castle, and the Gryffindor common room at Hogwarts. It is my peaceful haven where Pyewacket and Walter are always there to cuddle, and I’m surrounded by music and my favorite books. I’m grateful for my backyard, which is my personal paradise where I love to meditate.
  7. Today: I am grateful for this day. Today is all I am guaranteed (this moment actually), and I’m not going to throw it away worrying about a future day that may or may not ever come. Today I am alive and content. I’m joyful even. This day is glorious and worthy of my attention. 

So, I’m going to stop at lucky seven even though there is so much more for which I am thankful. I’ll save those for contemplating another day. I hope you all have a lovely Thanksgiving day and every day is something to relish.—Christina Knowles

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Breathe

mediateJust breathe

Sinking deeper, I turn inward

Searching for me

Just rest here awhile

Letting the thoughts drift

Along the outer edges of my mind

Immersed in my inner sanctuary

I don’t need anything

Safe and alone

Peace settles over me like a soft blanket

Drift

Just breathe

The air filling my lungs

Satisfies me

I am content with nothing more than breath

Assuaged and serene

I rest

No expectations

With every exhalation

Taking me down

Further into me

A soft breeze kisses my skin

The wings of a bird flutter overhead

In a nearby tree

These images drift slowly in my mind

Before dissipating like fog in the sun

Just breathe

–Christina Knowles (2015)

Photo snagged from lifescapesolutions.com

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Failing at Meditation? No, You’re Not by Christina Knowles

Hippie girl in nature Recently I’ve returned to practicing meditation. I only stopped because I thought I was a failure at it. I thought I had to empty my mind and think of absolutely nothing, and I never could accomplish this. I thought I had to feel nothing but calm, and if I could not think of nothing, then I had to focus on just one image. Well, after succumbing to a stress-related heart attack, I decided I needed to give meditation another shot. This time I joined a meditation group that meets on weekends at one of our many beautiful and natural parks in Colorado Springs. The one where we met the first time I attended, was in a large mountainous park, full of rocky cliffs and pine trees, dirt trails, and wildflowers. We sat in an open pavilion in the shade and let the cool breeze flow over us. We wrote down our worries on pieces of scrap paper and ceremonially put them in the Universe Box to symbolically let the universe take on these problems for us. Then we went inside ourselves, eyes shut, quiet, breathing smoothly, and let our thoughts float in and out. I felt the breeze, I listened with gratitude at the birds chirping, and I went deeper into me. It was like my unconscious mind woke to put her arms around me. Occasionally I’d hear a dog bark or a siren in the distance, but it would gently float in one ear and out the other, not even disturbing the serenity I felt. It was like I was one with everything, a part of each thing happening around me, yet above being affected by it.

What happened next was somewhat unexpected. My mind gently drifted to images that I call my “happy place.” Usually my favorite happy place image is a wintry Christmas scene in a room only lit by the softly blinking lights of a small Christmas tree and the warm, crackling of a fire. Looking through the window into the night sky, I see big fat snowflakes falling slowly and gently, no wind to divert them from their path. The light from the moon illuminates them just enough to be clearly seen through the glass. My hand rests on my dog’s back. She is lying next to me with her head resting on my lap. I look down at her, and it’s my beagle, Mulder, who passed away several years ago. She looks up at me with love in her soft brown eyes. I notice that the gifts piled haphazardly under the tree, the tree with homemade and personalized ornaments from my childhood, are all wrapped in old-fashioned Christmas paper, reds and greens with pictures of kids dressed in snow gear that look like they’re from the 1950s. All around me I feel love, not just any love, but the love and wonder of my childhood. I felt like I was me back then. I just sat and let the love and memories wash over me until tears streamed down my face, happy, poignant tears; the coolest thing was I felt such love for me—that little girl. I thought, Is this what they mean by visiting your inner child? At that moment I had an epiphany, that child, her feelings, her hopes, her fears, her personality, they are still me. This was profound to me because I usually feel like such an adult, not in touch with what I always considered my old self. Just realizing that this was still me, that I am still she, gave me a strange kind of understanding of how to take care of myself, how to live a life that I need to live for my good. It was so beautiful. I went home feeling lighter and filled with pure joy.

When I told my meditation group leader about the experience, he told me that what I did was meditation, and it was just fine. I hadn’t failed. I didn’t need to blank out my mind. I can just let my mind drift, go deep, and let my unconscious tell me what I need to know. This was so freeing, and now I am excited each day to visit myself, which ever part of me that decides to show up, and relax, be comforted, and learn whatever I need to learn or let go of. It has been so much easier to make time for my meditation each day. It has never been just like this first experience again, but it is always good. It centers me and I let my mind drift to anything positive it wants to, gently pushing away any other distractions. Sometimes it is just sweet images, sometimes it’s only the sound of nature, or the feeling of a fan blowing on me, but every once in a while, the little girl me, will make a small appearance just to remind me she is still there, we need each other, we love each other.

I’m still working on giving things to the universe, but I’m getting better and better. It’s not like I’ve become a spiritual person though. Well, I guess it’s how you define spirituality. I don’t believe there is such a thing as a spirit—I mean the kind of thing that survives death and somehow contains my personality and essence of who I am. I believe these things, things that make me me, live in the brain, and the brain does not survive the death of the body because it is part of the body. But if you want to call the essence of who I am, the sum total of my experiences, feelings, and personality, maybe even the unconscious or subconscious mind, spirit, then okay. I can deal with that. Meditation for me is getting to the heart of who I am and visiting this calm place where I can be with the inner me in a totally intimate way, a way that I can’t be in touch with myself during the busyness and chaos of the day.

Being exactly who I am on every level and loving that person despite my flaws through meditation has been a freeing experience that I never imagined. I’ve never had a problem with self-esteem, but it’s a different thing to really feel love for who you are, fully acknowledging every flaw. I’m not talking egocentricism, but just really loving and accepting yourself despite not being perfect and not caring if you are perfect to anyone else. Through meditation I understand who I am and can completely accept myself without the pressure of any performance. During those 15 minutes, the world disappears, and I am just a being, worthy of love and tenderness, with no expectations at all. So when I return to the world of constant demands, the responsibilities seem lighter. I am refreshed, rested, and ready to set boundaries to protect the value of myself as a being on this earth, a being with an expiration date. I won’t let that time be used to harm me anymore. So if you think you are failing at meditation because it doesn’t fit some description in a book, don’t listen. If it helps you, if it calms you, or benefits you in any way, you’re doing it right. Do it however you need to do it. Your subconscious you knows what you need. Peace—Christina Knowles

Photo snagged from aquarian.es

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My Moment of Zen by Christina Knowles

MeditationThose of you who are Jon Stewart fans, like I am, know where this line comes from. At the end of every show, Jon would show a clip of something unbelievable, ridiculous, or ironic that reveals a not-so-surprising truth, at least it shouldn’t be surprising. Well, my personal moment of Zen came a few weeks ago when I had a heart attack at the end of a long day of stress, work, dehydration, and lack of sleep—during the summer break when I should have been having fun and relaxing. It’s ironic because I’m the youngest in my family, the one who eats organic, does yoga, and exercises every day, and the only one who has had a heart attack. It was not-so-surprising because I was a workaholic perfectionist. I say “was” because this epiphany-causing event has changed my focus from work to living my life.

With that said, this is not an instant fix for my workaholism. Like any addiction, working too much and trying to make everything perfect are things that are not easy to give up. Having started the school year, I am bombarded with opportunities and requests to work around the clock that have to be ignored. This is not easy for someone like me. I have a list of things to do that seem urgent and could never be accomplished in the work-day, but I’m trying. I have to constantly put my list out of my mind and do something purposefully peaceful and get to a place where I feel comfortable doing what I want to do with my free at-home time.

According to my list, this weekend, I have to create leveled reading groups for two classes, grade sample writing, create some unit modules for my website, look over and record pre-tests, and fill out some teacher evaluation goals and self-evaluation stuff. All of these things seem urgent. Ideally they would be done by Monday, but I worked very hard all week, and I need to relax and have fun, as prescribed by my doctor—I’m not kidding. Besides that, if I die next week, will I rather have had fun with my husband, or have gotten my “goals” written for the state evaluation, which are not really my goals, but what I think they want to hear anyway? I know what I want to do today and it’s not that.

In a few minutes, I’m going to meet some friends in nature to meditate and drink coffee—not at the same time, of course. Then I’m going to hang out with my husband and go see an art/photography opening by a friend of his. Later, we will do something with our dog. It’s his birthday month, so we’re celebrating our little guy. Maybe I’ll do a little reading later, and if I feel like it, I might do one thing for school—probably create those leveled reading groups. Then I will go back to focusing on my actual life until Monday.

I have to keep reminding myself that work doesn’t own me; it rents me from 7 am to 3 pm and occasional evenings. It’s just what I do when I’m not home, living my real life. I love it, but it is not who I am; it is does not define me. Who I am is here with my friends and family and experiencing the life I want to live. That is my Zen, and I will go on reminding myself of this until it comes naturally. Peace.—Christina Knowles

Photo snagged from gabby.tv

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10 Mind-Bending Epiphanies That Changed My Life by Christina Knowles

epiphany1) I’ll never be all caught up. Getting caught up in getting caught up is like a hamster running in a wheel. It’s pointless, so stop trying so hard. Now I make a few daily goals, but getting done with everything is no longer on the list. Knowing it is impossible sets me free to just stop and relax once in a while.

2) Pain is our friend. Whether it is physical pain or emotional pain, it is a signal that we need to do something different. It is the catalyst for change. Embrace it.

3) To some extent, you are already doing what you want to do, or you wouldn’t be doing it. Let’s be honest for a second. We can’t make ourselves do anything we don’t want to do for any length of time. Otherwise, we’d all be thin, healthy, and adept at meditation. So, the fact that I’ve been a teacher for 15 years must mean that some part of me actually wants to be a teacher. The same is true for all the rest of my habitual behavior.

4) I’ve believed lies most of my life, but because of this, I don’t know if my current beliefs are also lies. We grow up listening to and believing everything our parents or authority figures tell us. Then we find out that much of what we learned and believed is not true. We read, discover, and form our own ideas and teach them to other people who grow up and realize that much of what we taught them is not true. Who really knows the truth?

5) Marriage doesn’t have to be work, and shouldn’t be. People who tell you how hard marriage is and how much effort you have to put into it have bad marriages, so don’t listen to anything they say. Who would want to be married if it made your life more difficult? Evolutionarily speaking, the whole point of marriage is to make life easier. Don’t fight nature. Marry someone who is easy to be married to.

6) You don’t have to worry—I’m serious, you really don’t. Worrying is a choice. Sometimes we unconsciously begin to worry, but as soon as we realize we’re doing it, we can choose to stop. I know it’s cliché, but worrying never changed anything except your mood and physical health for the worse. There’s no point, and I’m too busy for pointless things. Whenever I start to worry, I allow myself to imagine the worse thing that can happen. It’s pretty ridiculous and funny, so it snaps me out of worrying pretty quickly, which leads me to number 7.

7) The only people who are stressed are people who care too much. I love the saying, “I don’t know about my bucket list, but my fucket list is getting pretty long.” The quickest way to stress-free living is shockingly not meditation—I’ve tried that. It’s saying, “Fuck it.” If something is going to cause my stomach to turn to knots, I realize that it must be something over which I have very little control, so I choose to not care about it anymore. I realize this is not possible in every case, especially when it comes to the health of loved ones, but as I understand number 6, there’s nothing I can do about it anyway.

8) We can love or hate anyone, regardless of what they are like. Almost 50 years of life has taught me that loving or hating someone is more about me than it is about them. I have learned that I am capable of loving the most unlovable person once I learn enough about them to understand their perspectives, what made them like they are, what is important to them, what they fear and for what they hope, and see them as they see themselves. Conversely, I can despise wonderful people if I choose to see them only through their faults, mistakes, or little annoyances.

9) Everyone is mentally ill, but then mental illness is normal, so no one is mentally ill. It seems like everyone has some sort of neuroses, depression, or anxiety today, so much so, that it’s hard to find someone who is not depressed, bi-polar, who does not have OCD, ADHD, addictive behavior, or some nervous disorder. It’s like allergies. Almost everyone has one. So doesn’t that make it the norm? And if it’s normal to have these brain malfunctions, then are they malfunctions? I’m not talking about serial killers here—serious sociopaths. I’m speaking of all the little idiosyncrasies that are now so common. Didn’t we always have them? We just didn’t label them and medicate them in the past. Get over it; you’re normal.

10) Death is not a big deal to the person who is dead. As a person who has serious doubts about the existence of an afterlife, I’m not worried about it. When I’m dead, I won’t know it, so what’s the big deal? Bury me, cremate me, throw me in a ditch. Who cares? I’m not there anymore. Sure, my life will be over along with all my potential, all my hopes and dreams, but again, I won’t know it, so what’s all the fuss about?

11) We choose friends in whom we see what we like about ourselves. People say that when we dislike something in another person, we are really seeing something in them which is negative about ourselves. I don’t know if that’s true, but the converse is most assuredly true. We really do choose friends in whom we see what we like about ourselves. We like them because we have these things in common, and because of them, we notice the best in ourselves.

12) People continue to lie when the best thing in the world is to be known, known by self and others, truly known. In an effort to be accepted, they never can be, and they are subconsciously preventing their own happiness.

Yes, I can count. I said there were 10 epiphanies that changed my life, but then I wrote 12. Well, as a person about to turn 50, I refuse to be constrained by a number. I am a rebel, and 10 sounded better than 12 in the title. But seriously, when I realized each one of these things, it changed my whole outlook on life, for the better, I’d like to think. So mind-bending? Yes, whenever my worldview shifts and things become clear and my life changes as a result, I consider my mind bent. —Christina Knowles

Photo courtesy of cloudfront.net

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Balance? Yeah, Right by Christina Knowles

Snagged from Jacinta-Yoga
Snagged from Jacinta-Yoga

 

I’ve always believed people should live balanced lives: you know, mind, body, spirit. I learned this was important through life-long yoga practice, reading philosophy, and talking to wise ones who successfully practiced this path to peace and contentment. However, I’ve NEVER been able to achieve it–not even for one whole week. I live a life of never-ending to-do lists, schedules, alarms, and obligations. I even make to-do lists and schedules to make sure I schedule time to relax, but no matter how hard I try, something important is always neglected.

I am naturally motivated to improve my mind. For this I need no prompting. I don’t have to try very hard to make time to learn something new, read, or write. I once spent an entire summer studying philosophy and theology. Because I am a teacher and a writer, it is easy to justify time spent on these activities. But I recognize that there is more to life than my intellectual pursuits. The first thing that drops off my list is usually physical exercise.

I wasn’t always a sedentary person. When I was younger, I was an enthusiastic runner, I took Karate, yoga, and figure skating lessons. I used to dance. I admit that I never liked team sports or traditional working out at the gym. Actually, I loathe it. But running and skating cleared my mind, yoga relaxed me, Karate–well, that kind of sucked, but I liked the idea of being able to defend myself. However, after four knee surgeries, my doctor told me that I was not allowed to run, skate, or do karate. Ever. To avoid major knee reconstruction (which would involve breaking my legs and sitting in a wheel chair for almost a year), I was told to take up cycling. The doctor told me that even swimming would be too hard on my knees, and walking should be kept to a normal strolling pace. So I bought an exercise bike and have been pretty good about riding it on a regular basis. The only thing that motivates me to do this is that I literally cannot walk if I stop for any length of time. I also still practice yoga, but not with any consistency. Needless to say, my daily 20-30 minutes on my exercise bike is not really meeting my aerobic needs.

As for the “spirit,” I tried meditating and yoga, which does relax my mind and body. I also nurture my inner self by spending time with people I care about and by pursuing my artistic interests. I think I need to spend time outside in nature as well, maybe even be a little adventurous. I need to spend quality time with my husband, family, and friends. I need to just do nothing sometimes. I long to do nothing, but I am really NOT good at it.

So, as usual, summer vacation from teaching was the time when I planned to regroup and get my life back in balance, as if it ever were. I immediately made preposterously unrealistic goals, to-do lists, and schedules to accomplish everything to attain this balance. Of course, I thought, it would be balanced because I made sure to include something from every area on which I wanted to work. It turned out to be the opposite of balance. Before I knew it, I signed up for three courses to help me with a new class I’ll be teaching in the fall, I started writing a new book, and I’m helping some students create an e-book short story anthology. I have about 15 books on my must-read list. I’m riding my bike (a real one) daily, spending time outside walking my dog and gardening, fitting in time with friends and family, staying up really late with my husband, trying to fit in a few hours of writing every day, re-organizing and cleaning my house, and basically going crazy trying to keep up. And there is never time to do nothing. This is worse than working full-time. Well, almost.

My husband tells me that I need to prioritize, that I can’t do it all. But isn’t that the point of balance? Doing it all–at least some of everything? Making sure that I meet the needs of all the different aspects of my being? When I try to prioritize, everything seems like a priority.  I don’t get this balance thing. I think I am incapable of it. Or perhaps I just need a better schedule. I’d better get right on that.–Christina Knowles

 

 

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