radical acceptance

I am experiencing a foundationally transformative book right now, Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life with the Heart of a Buddha. The author, Tara Brach, writes beautifully and profoundly about a practice born out of Vipassana (mindfulness) meditation.

The practice is Radical Acceptance, and as I have used it in my life over the past few weeks I have been amazed at its transformative effect. You'll be reading a lot on this blog about radical acceptance, but in this post I'd like to share about its surprisingly simple core.

Tara describes two steps in Radical Acceptance, and the first is simply Mindfulness; checking in with ourselves and noticing what we are experiencing in the present moment. We observe our physical sensations, our emotions, and the stories that run through our minds about our present experience. For example, if someone cuts me off on the freeway, I might immediately experience fear. This might feel like a balloon blowing up inside my chest, or my muscles tightening while my heart beats fast. I might feel angry, with a churning feeling in my stomach. I might notice that there is a story going through my mind saying that the person who cut me off doesn't care about my life or about their dangerous actions.

The second step is to accept this immediate experience non-judgmentally, and with compassion. Taking a kindly approach to ourselves, we do not push away uncomfortable sensations, nor do we grasp after pleasant ones. We accept what is, in the present moment, and give to ourselves the same compassion that we would to a cherished friend. This is very different from my previous practice of telling myself sternly why I should "get over" something, which often led me to resentment or guilt that I wasn't "getting with the program" and moving on. When I accept my present experience with compassion, it is as though I am sitting down next to myself, and offering the friendship of silent, loving companionship.

Putting these two steps together, my practice is to say in my mind, "I notice that I am feeling __________." And, I accept this with compassion.

Something happens inside me when I do this . . . it's as though the emotions and sensations that have been consuming me recede a little. I am not longer anger. I am no longer sadness. Anger or sadness is present, but I am detached just enough to make this experience manageable. Frankly, my experience has been that once I've practice radical acceptance in a given situation, about 75% of the time the discomfort just disappears. Always, it's made more bearable. Unbelievable.

There is so much more to share, but I'll save it for future posts! I'll be posting much more regularly now, so stop by again soon! :)

coming together of opposites

I recently read in Ivan Richmond's book Silence and Noise: Growing Up Zen in America that the Zen Buddhist motion of bringing the palms of the hands together across the chest (as in prayer, or the yogic tradition of "namaste") is meant to symbolize two opposites becoming one. I like this, because even while I was a practicing evangelical Christian, I had a reverence for paradox and mystery as profound and beautiful--not puzzles that need to be solved or questions that are useful only once answered.

I am learning that within the thought life of Zen Buddhism is an ease with opposites. It seems to me that all great spiritual leaders who have stood the test of time also embraced paradox. If I can accept paradox, I begin to be able to see what is real.

My body is a good current example. I weigh more than I ever have, but I am also the most psychologically healthy with regard to my body, and I am implementing more physically and emotionally healthful habits than I ever have before. I am eating better, exercising well, and choosing to pursue health rather than a particular figure. I look one way; I feel another. I seem one way on the surface, but inside I am another.

Once I was able to name this seeming contradiction, I began to feel a greater peace about it. Richmond notes that the hand motion that symbolizes the coming together of opposites is called the "jewel-holding mudra". He writes, "We imagine that between our hands is a jewel. The jewel is enlightenment, because true enlightenment comes from seeing beyond the opposites."

should [not]

I am finding that "should" is the greatest enemy to my own personal mindfulness. I am learning to observe and respond to my body, mind, and spirit based on my own needs and cues. "Should" removes me from the realm of attunement to self, and has me behave according to some external, fixed principle. When I act on "shoulds", I am ceasing to be responsive to my own intuition and instinct.