Tiny Buddha

Tag: meditative

  • How My Old Dog Taught Me New Tricks

    How My Old Dog Taught Me New Tricks

    “Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.” ~Lao Tzu

    With two rambunctious kids, a stressful job, and a house to maintain, life was hectic. For many years, my children begged for a dog, and I would always say, “When you are older and life slows down a bit.”

    Time was ticking by, but life was no less chaotic when my then preteens made yet another pitch. With more than a little trepidation, we brought home a little ball of Golden Doodle fluff who we called Murphy. How much trouble could he be?

    In a short time, our cute puppy grew into a hundred-pound goofball. He fit into our lifestyle completely, which is to say, he added more mayhem to the already full and frenetic life we led. We adored him for the love and fun he brought to us, but I wondered when he was going to get over the puppy phase and slow down.

    After two years together, he still yanked us along like rag dolls as he chased squirrels on our ‘walks.’ We tried, and failed, obedience training. Each day, he presented us with a newly chewed shoe or freshly gnawed windowsill when left to his own devices.

    The final straw was when he unzipped my purse with his snout and ripped up my passport, requiring me to declare to the City Clerk that “the dog ate my passport” in order to replace it. Something had to change.

    Instead of considering how Murph’s wild behavior might be a reflection of our own lives operating at warp speed, we settled on an external solution to his destructive antics: We doubled down and naively got a dog for our dog. A year-old Shih Tzu named Teddy Bear joined our merry maelstrom.

    The kids called him Ted, a more ‘manly’ handle, and he settled into our house as his own. While things didn’t exactly slow down with his addition, Ted’s entertainment value was immediately apparent.

    We would pause to laugh as Murphy and Ted wrestled, both growling and sneezing to indicate it was all playful fun. Murph would pick up Ted by the neck and run around the house. Not to be outdone, and despite being outweighed by his brother sixfold, Ted would stand underneath Murphy’s chest, where he couldn’t be reached, and nip at his forelegs, sniper style.

    Ted’s only ‘trick’ was to seek me out when his big brother was getting into trouble, ratting him out for a tasty treat. My ridiculous Poodlehead never held it against his little pal, and I have since surmised that this was a ruse they cooked up to get treats that they could then share at their hapless owner’s expense.

    We continued to race through life and its requisite ups and downs, joys and heartbreaks. Ted and Murphy continued to bring us together in laughter. They joyfully passed eleven years together before the Dood became ill and sadly crossed the rainbow bridge.

    His friend Ted was a little lost for a time. One day, I tried to soothe him by suggesting we go on a car ride. My son Michael exclaimed, horrified, “Mom, that won’t help. The last time you took his brother for a drive, he never came back.” Ouch, but true.

    Still, over time, Ted got used to his place as top dog of the household. At twelve, he had slowed down somewhat from the rambunctious mophead that had enjoyed a good run around the yard in true ‘zoomie’ fashion.

    Rather than pulling at the leash like it was a race to the finish, he now trotted along beside me, sniffing every bush, tree, hydrant, and bug encountered along the way. Initially, I was impatient, tugging him after me in a bid to finish and check off ‘walk completed’ in my imagined to-do list. I was frustrated by the slowing; I was used to the go-go-go of my life.

    ‘What’s the rush?’ Ted’s plaintive eyes would ask when I dragged him away from the latest enticing smell. As I sat in exasperation after one such exchange, I turned to watch Ted quietly sleeping on the couch. His soft snores added a contented rhythm to the silence in the room.

    I reflected: The kids were grown and living their own lives. The rush of birthday parties and soccer games was behind me, and life was shifting into a slower gear. Perhaps it was time for me to consciously step back from the former frantic tempo and embrace the spaciousness of a new perspective.

    Walks started to take on a more contemplative pace. I let Ted take the lead—to stop and start as suited his mood. As he sniffed through the messages left by his fellow canines, I would look around me to pass the time.

    I noticed the buds on the trees and the lilting robin’s song in spring. I took in the heady fragrance of lilacs and lilies of the valley. I was dazzled by the brilliant yellows of marigolds and the purple lavender stalks. I crunched the autumn leaves under my feet, appreciating the natural transition that comes before the barren winter and the promise of new life ahead in the spring.

    We added music to our perambulations. Ted enjoyed a good eighties tune and never complained that it was outdated and passe. Eurythmics and The Clash topped his list. He especially liked it when I replaced lyrics and included his name: “There’s a breeze on the bike path. Walk the Teddy. Walk the Teddy.” (You sang that, didn’t you?)

    Sometimes we would dance along the sidewalk. Despite his age, Ted could keep the beat. And even though my rhythm might have been slightly out of time, Ted was as oblivious as I was joyous.

    While we didn’t break any speed records and my steps did not top ten thousand, we took in our surroundings with meditative awareness. Ted taught me the wonder and awe of the everyday by slowing me down enough to experience it.

    Recently, Ted made his way across the rainbow bridge at almost seventeen years young. I miss him every day but know that he will be frolicking with his brother, enjoying a good wrestle and sniping from Murphy’s underbelly.

    As for me, I honor our time together by remembering the lessons he left me. I reflect on my younger self and consider how life might have been different had I embraced these learnings when I was younger. How might I have enjoyed more quality time with my kids had I stepped off the lightning speed merry-go-round and simply embraced the moment?

    I am privileged to have the time now, in their adult years, to slow down, take note, and appreciate an afternoon of frivolity. I do not take this for granted, and I credit my beautiful Ted for his insight.

    I continue to enjoy daily walks with an attitude of gratitude and the spirit of my Zen doggo along for the fun. I stop to smell the flowers and feel the sun on my skin.

    The eighties playlist still blasts out its timeless tunes, and I think Ted may have even passed along a few of his cool dance moves. And I’m sure even Annie Lennox would agree with the truth in my off-key replacement lyrics: “Sweet walks put me at ease. Ted preferred to sniff at trees.”

    Thank you, my fuzzy friend. May we all find comfort and joy and embrace the beauty of slowing down through the new tricks my old dog taught me.

  • Move Your Body, Calm Your Mind: 5 Practices That Help Ease Anxiety

    Move Your Body, Calm Your Mind: 5 Practices That Help Ease Anxiety

    “Get out of your head and get into your body. Think less and feel more.” ~Osho

    Do you want to meditate but the idea of sitting with your thoughts for twenty minutes gives you anxiety? Or maybe meditation seems like one more task you have to add to your ever growing to-do list, so you take a pass?

    As a working mother of three, I’m no stranger to daily stress and routine overwhelm. Life in the twenty-first century can be pretty hectic, especially for busy moms, and so many of us search for practical ways to minimize the stress and anxiety that are so common in our society.

    Meditation seems like a perfect solution. It’s “easy,” accessible, and it’s good for our health, both mental and physical. It reduces stress and improves emotional regulation, concentration, and sleep. It helps us develop more kindness and compassion, for others and ourselves.

    Sounds like a perfect cure. Except it’s hard. It can feel like a chore or a time thief. And it often triggers our fears and anxieties, especially if we have a history of trauma we’re still healing. 

    So why not adjust the traditional meditation practice to reflect our modern lifestyle and constrictions? Why not mimic the practice of mindfulness while moving your body? Instead of sitting still, why not focus on gentle, repetitive movements that are enjoyable, all while reaping the benefits of mindfulness?

    Believe me, you can have it both ways.

    I am a Type A person. I am driven, full of energy and ambition. I’m competitive, over-scheduled, and always on the go. And I don’t have much patience, or time to kill. Sitting still for twenty minutes is often the last thing I want to do.

    Another hurdle for me was anxiety, which often peaked when I opened up to my internal world of thoughts and feelings, as one does while sitting in meditation. I do better now, but in the first year of practice I often felt triggered and overwhelmed—precisely the opposite of what I was going for.

    This is common for people with trauma or chronic pain. We tend to numb, distract, or ignore distressing sensations in order to make it through the day. Mindfulness requires the opposite of such disassociation.

    When sitting in meditation, I was to focus on and “befriend” my body, along with the residue of trauma still lodged in it. Despite my best intentions I would become fidgety and agitated instead. Noticing my pain, both physical and emotional, seemed to increase it. I’d find myself trying to resist it, run from it, beat myself up for not being able to just “observe” my experience, and then criticize myself for beating myself up. It was a vicious cycle.

    I understood that the goal was to learn to be with my experience, and it did get easier over time, but often it was too much to handle.

    Needless to say, I’ve searched for alternative ways to meditate, ones that didn’t involve sitting still but were movement-based instead. And I found plenty.

    The Meditative Benefits of Rhythmic Movement

    Many of us have experienced some type of trauma or significant stress in the past. It’s part of a human experience. Even if we were lucky enough to avoid trauma, we live in a world of chronic stress and overwhelm. We often operate in “survival mode” and experience chronic muscle tension and fatigue. We feel anxious and maxed out too often.

    Anxiety is often a symptom of a freeze response in fight-flight-freeze—the feeling of helplessness, our inability to change or escape a difficult situation, such as the daily stress that comes with our modern lifestyle. Movement is a great antidote to that freeze state. It gets us unstuck.

    Stress gets stuck in our bodies. We carry this tension around with us and it affects us on a body-mind level. Movement is a great way to release that tension and get back to a relaxed state. Repetitive movement can also bring us into the state of mindfulness, giving our body a chance to press the reset button and kick in our natural healing and renewal processes.

    Rhythmic movement, just like meditation, can be very therapeutic and healing. It helps integrate our body and mind, reset the nervous system, and rewire the brain for healing and wholeness. It’s not only good for your physical body but your mental health too.

    Meditative movement activities are grounding as well. Feeling grounded is the exact opposite to perpetual worry.

    Anxiety is about getting stuck in our internal world of thoughts and feelings. The repetitive movement, however, helps us get out of our head and reconnect with our body, grounding and centering us, connecting us back to the earth and to ourselves.

    Grounding reduces inflammation and emotional stress, elevates our mood, and improves our immune responses. It brings us back to feeling centered and secure. And it’s exactly what we need in times of struggle and overwhelm.

    5 Movement-Based Meditative Practices Perfect for Anxious People

    There are a number of activities that have a meditative effect that don’t require you to sit still for twenty minutes. In fact, any movement that’s relaxing and repetitive can give you similar effect as meditation. The trick is to go slow and bring mindfulness to the practice. And if you enjoy doing it, you will find it easier to add to your daily routine, so it won’t feel like a chore.

    Here are my favorites:

    1. Walking

    Walking is one of the easiest anxiety-reducing movement-based techniques. It can invoke mindfulness, clear your head, and release stress from the body. And if done in nature, you will feel more wakeful and alert and, at the same time, open, relaxed, and spacious.

    2. Hatha yoga

    The most rewarding for me personally, Hatha yoga is a gentle practice of body-mind integration. Yoga combines awareness of breathing with asana practice, enabling you to achieve the state of mindfulness and wholeness. It’s easy and accessible to everyone—you don’t have to join a studio, simply search YouTube for inspiration and lesson videos.

    3. Gardening

    Nothing connects me more to my surroundings than gardening. Great for anxiety and taming the monkey mind, gardening is a perfect activity to help you become mindful and engage with the world around you with all your senses. The calm of gardening can bring about the state of flow, as you become fully absorbed in the activity. Gardening is grounding; my garden is my personal Zen.

    4. Swimming

    Swimming is a gentle exercise that allows you to focus on deep breathing and the rhythm of your stroke, both lulling you into a state of deep relaxation. It comes with minimal distractions and is a great tension reliever. All you need is a body of water.

    5. Dancing

    Focused on expression on a bodily level, dancing allows you tap into your body’s own healing resources. It’s therapeutic. You connect with your body in elemental ways and allow it to express feelings often hard to convey in words—something especially beneficial for trauma victims and people suffering from anxiety or depression.

    By being mindful while dancing, you also learn about yourself and your body and embrace your creativity and the comforting flow of pleasant physical sensations, fully re-engaging with the present moment. And that’s healing.

    —

    Whatever practice you choose, use the movement and sensations of your body to bring your awareness to the present moment. Draw your attention to your hands and feet, the sensations of touching the ground, and your arms swinging or shifting in motion.

    Follow your breath as you inhale and exhale deeply and air travels in and out of your lungs. Let the rhythmic flow of your movements relax your mind.

    Listen, notice, smell, and feel into your surrounding, using your senses to anchor yourself in the present moment.

    Observe your experience, including your thoughts and feelings, without judgment. Notice when you get lost in thoughts, and bring yourself back to the movement, back to the now.

    Try to add mindful movement to your daily routine, if possible. It’s a great way to reset your mind and remove stress out of your body, in a gentle and supportive way. Weave your favorite meditative activity into your daily life, without the distraction of technology. Make it your self-care habit.

    And don’t forget to tap into mindful movement in times of struggle and overwhelm, to gently shift your body and mind out of stress and into relaxation. It’s a great alternative to sitting meditation when anxious energy is stuck in your body, ready to be released in an active way.

    Mindfulness Takes Practice But You Are Worth It

    I used to ruminate a lot on my walks. With practice, I’ve learned to let go of my onslaught of thoughts and bring myself back to the present moment. I now focus on the smell of freshly cut grass and the feel the breeze on my neck and sun on my face, and pay attention to each step and how it resonates through my body. As I walk, I realize the beauty around me and fill my heart with joy and gratitude. That uplifting energy fuels the rest of my day.

    I do practice sitting meditation, and I have found it to be very useful. But my temperament begs me to move and be in nature, which is why I love walking and gardening.

    Think of what is healing, relaxing, and brings you pleasure. Then bring awareness to your body as you develop a practice of bringing that joy into your every day, whether through movement, a creative pursuit, or play.

    You are worth it!

  • A Simple Technique to Quiet Your Mind and Be Present

    A Simple Technique to Quiet Your Mind and Be Present

    “Get out of your head and get into your heart. Think less, feel more.” ~Osho

    Meditating. It’s one of those things that we all know we’d be better off doing, but most of us struggle with it immensely.

    It’s difficult. It’s hard to find the time. And it often doesn’t seem like it’s working.

    For many years, I’ve tried to make meditation a regular habit. But rarely can I do it consistently. It’s almost always the first thing to go when I’m crunched for time or feeling stressed.

    Of course, those are the times that meditation is best!

    But, for someone like me who has difficulty paying attention in general, the standard “beginner’s meditation” is often insufficient. It’s quite challenging to do nothing but focus on your breath for five minutes, let alone twenty or more.

    This has only gotten more challenging since moving from a university setting to a full-time job. Now my mind is often so crammed with technical details of troubleshooting health information systems that the idea of shutting off my mind for even a few minutes feels nearly impossible.

    I know I’m not alone here. Many people struggle with this, and it is a nontrivial problem. I’m not an insomniac, but on numerous occasions I’ve been completely unable to go to sleep because I simply cannot shut my mind off long enough to pass out.

    Sometimes I’m concerned with what someone said to me at work that day. Sometimes it’s missing my family and friends. Sometimes I beat myself up for not going to the gym that day. And sometimes it’s just a whole mess of thoughts that I can’t quite pin down.

    As such, I’ve been in the market for a meditative technique that can be done any time, anywhere, for as long or short as I’d like, and without requiring the ability for sustained attention. I believe I’ve just found this technique.

    Before going into it, I would like to acknowledge the fact that having the ability to sustain your attention for extended periods is invaluable, and absolutely worth working toward. The technique I will be discussing should be used to help build this capability, not to replace it entirely.

    The Technique Sensory Awareness

    Rather than directing your attention inward, say, toward your breath, what about directing it outward toward the world around you?

    This is an approach that I first came across right here on Tiny Buddha, when Lori described “the noticing game.”

    The idea is that you can expand your awareness by paying attention to the things around you, and trying to notice as much of your environment as possible. A great, common example of this would be “people watching.”

    The noticing game has helped me tremendously as a meditative technique, but it does have its limitations.

    For instance, I’ve found that it tends to cause a feeling of separateness—that I am in some sense isolated from whatever it is that I am observing. In addition, I have a tendency to search around more frenetically than I should, trying to notice the “coolest” thing in my environment.

    Surely, this is not the intention behind the exercise, but I do feel as though it is a consequence of the simplification that comes from looking at it as a game. While the noticing game has benefited me greatly, I’ve recently been taking it to the next level with a slight modification of that approach.

    A couple weeks ago, I came across a great method of expanding my awareness in a fascinating book about Kabbalah, or Jewish mysticism. You can think of it as a more generalized or holistic version of the noticing game.

    The goal is to maximize the use of your sensory perception.

    When we are not conscious of it, we filter out a huge quantity of sensory data that is not useful for whatever task we are trying to accomplish. This is a great evolutionary strategy, and it also gives us the opportunity to expand our awareness whenever we feel like it. Double win!

    First, let your vision expand peripherally. No need to turn your head, look around, or change your body position at all. You can see (at least in my experience) about 50% more of your environment simply by being conscious of it. Try it out now!

    Expanding your visual awareness like this makes you feel more alert and “in the moment.” In other words, it does much of what traditional meditation does, but without needing to focus on anything in particular.

    But why stop at just visual perception? You can pay more attention to the sounds in your environment as well.

    You need not focus on a particular sound; simply let the noises in your environment get consciously registered in your mind. Huge amounts of ambient noise gets filtered out, but you can easily remove that filter for short periods of time, thereby noticing much more of your environment.

    Next, notice your body. Right now, I’m quite aware of an uncomfortable twinge in the center of my back. But until I started paying attention a moment ago, I couldn’t actually “feel” my butt in my seat, or the bottoms of my feet on the ground.

    These feelings simply got filtered out, because they are bland and uninteresting from an evolutionary standpoint. But they’re actually quite interesting as I pay attention to them.

    There’s really nothing new or revolutionary about this technique. In fact, one of its major advantages is the simplicity of the whole thing; there’s no need for any complicated maneuvers.

    We all have much more awareness potential than we actually use in our daily lives. Instead of actively trying to notice specific things in your environment, you can let the environment come to you and soak it all up together.

    Most of us, most of the time, are experiencing life on autopilot. But without a huge amount of effort, we can begin to spend more and more time in a state of calm awareness, where the trials and tribulations of the day become unimportant.

    Our anxieties and concerns take on a fraction of the significance we normally attribute to them. And who wouldn’t want that?