Alexandersmap

    Tag: Thich Nhat Hanh

    • On Rest and Recovery

      “Human beings used to have this kind of wisdom. But we have lost touch with it. We don’t know how to rest anymore. We don’t allow the body to rest, to release the tension, and heal. We rely almost entirely on medication to deal with sickness and pain.” — Thich Nhat Hanh, No Mud, No Lotus

      After a steady accumulation of miles cycling, I finished my goal last weekend and took a day off to rest and recover. That turned into four full days before I was back on the bike last night, more than I’d expected. But a funny thing happened—my body responded well for having rested. I rode more efficiently, with a higher average speed on the same roads I diligently traversed all summer.

      I agree with Thich Nhat Hanh’s statement wholeheartedly. We don’t know how to rest. And we consume more medication than we ought to instead of letting the body heal naturally. By we I most definitely mean me, but maybe it sounds familiar to you too? Pop a few ibuprofen and get back to the grind, anyone? Watching the Olympics the last couple of weeks, how much tape did we see stretched across athletic bodies? Sure, they’re elite, but my favorite runner has some of that tape across her knee even as I write this. We need more rest, more often, to recovery properly that we may perform at a higher level.

      The thing is, we aren’t getting any younger either. Maybe those Olympic athletes are young and in peak fitness, timed perfectly to perform optimally on the world stage, but that’s not the hand I’ve been dealt at this time in my life. Rest is essential to performance, especially when we add a few trips around the sun to our resume. We forget this because we always could do what we’re trying to do now. But it’s not then anymore, is it?

      If I could do it all over again, I’d build a life with natural sabbaticals built into the year. Teachers have this. So do landscapers and fishermen and ski instructors. We choose careers with a high earning potential instead of high lifestyle potential, and we pay the price over time. We know when we’re in balance and strive to get there when we’re off. Rest and recovery are far more essential to a productive and happy life than simply having the right job title is. Certainly better than popping another pill.

    • Processing Time

      “Wash the dishes relaxingly, as though each bowl is an object of contemplation. Consider each bowl as sacred. Follow your breath to prevent your mind from straying. Do not try to hurry to get the job over with. Consider washing the dishes the most important thing in life. Washing the dishes is meditation. If you cannot wash the dishes in mindfulness, neither can you meditate while sitting in silence.” — Thich Nhat Hanh, The Miracle of Mindfulness: A Manual on Meditation

      The writing of the blog post started late this morning, with fresh snow to clear from the driveway a priority, and a relatively subdued morning to follow. The words will come, as they always do, and they’re often better for having changed up the routine. I know I was the better for having done a small bit of exercise in the cold air with a pink and orange kaleidoscope of dancing clouds greeting me through the bare trees.

      The driveway and I have an understanding. If the snow is heavy and wet and more than two inches, I use the snowblower. If light and fluffy and less than four inches, I alway shovel. All other conditions fall somewhere in between, but I default to the shovel when it’s a reasonable ask of myself. I do this because so little in our lives is analog or manual anymore. We’ve got engines and batteries and computers for everything nowadays. These things do the work for us, but rob us of time to process anything in our minds. How many drive to the gym to walk on a treadmill, watching the screen in front of them take them to another place? How does that stir the imagination? I have a friend who walks through the woods to work every day and consider him the luckiest commuter I know.

      We must design a lifestyle that allows us to contemplate things, and to dream and discover things about the world and ourselves. There must be time in our daily lives for us to reflect on the world and our place in it, or we will remain nothing but distracted souls like all the rest. That’s not us, friend. Carve out and protect that processing time. As a bonus, we’ll be greeted with a job well done and a wee bit more clarity.

    • Lighting Our Own Torch

      “Work is only a part of life. But work is life only when done in mindfulness. Otherwise, one becomes like the person “who lives as though dead.” We need to light our own torch in order to carry on. But the life of each one of us is connected with the life of those around us. If we know how to live in mindfulness, if we know how to preserve and care for our own mind and heart, then thanks to that, our brothers and sisters will also know how to live in mindfulness.” — Thich Nhat Hanh, The Miracle of Mindfulness

      Monday’s seem to sneak up a bit more quickly lately. The weekends fly by in a swirl of activity, then suddenly it’s Monday morning again. How we react to that depends on what our relationship is with our work. Then again, how we react to getting up any morning is directly related to how we feel about our life anyway. Rising to meet the day is more attractive when we live a life of joyfulness and awareness. Don’t we owe it to ourselves to reach that place?

      I lingered with the sunrise this morning, not to delay writing but to meet the day properly. A bit of frisbee with the pup, a cuppa to clear the cobwebs free, and full awareness of the light show happening above me as the world turned to meet the sun. The point of living is to be fully alive in these brief moments stacked like dominoes along our timeline. Those dominoes behind us have fallen away, all that’s left is the stack standing in front of us. Just how long that stack is is anyone’s guess. The pup and I felt satisfied with the one just fallen behind us.

      What is work but a series of dominoes stacked in our timeline? Each of those dominoes will fall behind us eventually, but what direction are they carrying us in? We either work out of a sense of obligation to others or we follow the call to contribute something more. The latter is often harder to hear—more a whisper than a scream (that screaming sound you hear is a thousand souls commuting to jobs they deeply resent). Whispers of work to be done are meaningful clues to the life we ought to be living.

      When those dominoes fall behind us, do they land with a hollow thud or do they resonate as time well spent? We each have our share of hollow moments, but we ought to work towards a life that reverberates. To light our own torch is to choose a life of resonance and meaning. That’s something to work towards.

    • Somethings

      “Recall a simple and ancient truth: the subject of knowledge cannot exist independently from the object of knowledge. To see is to see something. To hear is to hear something. To be angry is to be angry over something. Hope is hope for something. Thinking is thinking about something. When the object of knowledge (the something) is not present, there can be no subject of knowledge.” — Thich Nhat Hanh, The Miracle of Mindfulness

      We are each connected to the world in big ways and small. The things we focus on, our somethings, are the essence of that connection. When we become aware of these connections we immediately see our place in the world differently. We are not independent observers to the world, we are very much a part of it.

      So when we inevitably ignore our mother’s well-meaning advice and talk to strangers, is it a voyage of discovery or do we put up walls? Walls come in many forms, from being reserved to working to be overly clever. To be genuine and open is to welcome connection. It’s our gateway to discovery.

      My primary purpose in life is to bridge the gap between the known and the unknown. That bridge is built on human connections—trusted relationships built one genuine and open connection at a time. That connection is substantial, and indeed means something. After all, it’s the stuff of life.

    • The Choice of Attention

      “If you cannot find it here, you won’t find it anywhere. Don’t chase after your thoughts as a shadow follows its object. Don’t run after your thoughts. Find joy and peace in this very moment. This is your own time. This spot where you sit is your own spot. It is on this very spot and in this very moment that you can become enlightened. You don’t have to sit beneath a special tree in a distant land.” — Thich Nhat Hanh, The Miracle of Mindfulness

      I don’t dabble much in meditation in the classical sense, but lean deeply into awareness. So this very moment means a great deal to this particular time traveler. We dance in the now, or risk having the moment pass us by.

      Yet the time slips by so quickly anyway. This is as it should be, time being the creation of us frenzied humans. Wouldn’t it be better to think in terms of seasons or the natural cycle of a lifetime? Probably, but dinner reservations would be chaotic.

      Awareness of the moment is simply being present and engaged as best we can in this time and place that we live in. I’m quite aware that I have some things to do, and have a mosquito flying annoyingly nearby, and there’s a puppy underfoot restless in her desire to do anything but watch me type. I don’t have to look around to be aware of these things, I just have to be open to receiving them as they roll in like waves, one at a time, and wash across this broad beach of here and now.

      The trade-off, of course, is that awareness of everything around us makes us completely focused on none of them. There is a paradox here, in that we must be fully aware to be fully alive, yet raptly focused on our most important thing in the moment to ensure that thing gets done. We are constantly toeing the line between order and chaos within our brain.

      “Choice of attention—to pay attention to this and ignore that—is to the inner life what choice of action is to the outer. In both cases, a man is responsible for his choice and must accept the consequences, whatever they may be.” — W. H. Auden

      Chaos is all around us, it’s up to us to make sense of it in our own minds. There’s something to the idea of meditation and quieting your mind to receive enlightenment, I’m just not particularly good at sitting still with my breath. Yet I can sit quietly for hours writing, and can walk or row completely focused on the task at hand, aware only of the next step or stroke. Awareness seems to be more essential than enlightenment. One could make a case that they’re one and the same.

      So another day greets us with the choice of where to place our attention. The difference between a meaningful and fulfilling life and a chaotic, empty life is quite literally in our own head. Awareness, applied focus and a sense of purpose or direction are the recipe for a successful life. We choose what to be and have the opportunity to go be it.

    • All or Nothing at All

      All or nothing at all
      If it’s love, there ain’t no in between
      Why begin then cry for something that might have been?
      No, I’d rather, rather have nothing at all
      — Frank Sinatra, All or Nothing at All

      We get busy, don’t we? We pour ourselves into our work, into our passions, and forget that there are other things that are important for us to do, to accomplish, to experience. Life is a series of tradeoffs and compromises, with a few things dominating our lives in the uncompromising way that identity shades the lenses through which we see the world.

      A month ago I finished a fairly intense burst of high-mileage walking, and then simply stopped. I’ve done this before, with rowing a million meters, with rowing itself, and with other passions that mattered a great deal to complete in the season that they were essential and then became yesterday’s news. It’s either a symptom of being focused on accomplishing what the day at hand demands (generous), or a mind that prefers to stick with one big thing at a time (more likely). It’s an all or nothing at all way of walking through the world.

      “You have feet, and if you don’t make use of them it’s a loss and a waste. Someone is telling you now so that in the future you cannot say: “No one told me that it was important to enjoy using my feet.” — Thích Nhất Hạnh, How to Walk (Mindfulness Essentials, #4)

      The thing is, that walking was serving me quite well, but I just sort of got busy with other things. And suddenly a month flies by and as Thích Nhất Hạnh observed, it becomes a loss and a waste for having not continued to ride the momentum of the moment. And so it must begin again, instead of having simply continued. The lesson is to always lean into the positive momentum in your life.

      We must live our lives as if this time was all we had, for soon it will be nothing at all. Distractions be damned, enjoy the things that fill our days with joy and our future with an abundance of health and energy. We must step to it already.

    • Thoughts From An Early Morning Starbucks Line

      Standing in line at a grocery store or a restaurant, or waiting for the time to eat, we don’t need to waste our time. We don’t need to “wait” for one second. Instead, we can enjoy breathing in and out for our nourishment and healing. We can use that time to notice that we will soon be able to have food, and we can be happy and grateful during that time. Instead of waiting, we can generate joy.” — Thich Nhat Hanh

      We’re all working to process something in our lives—big and small things alike. This morning I was processing the benefits and drawbacks to skipping sleep for an early morning flight. It’s not my first rodeo when it comes to such things, and nothing that happens today will shake my belief that starting your day before the world wakes up offers a necessary head start.

      I contemplated this in the Starbucks line, chock full of groggy caffeine junkies looking for enlightenment, or maybe just a lifeline to the day. I didn’t need a lifeline, merely validation of a long-held habit of coffee equalling go. Standing in line, I recalled the gist of Thich Nhat Hanh’s quote, if not verbatim, and settled into a quiet celebration of life. The coffee surely stimulated the conversation between the ears later, but why wait? Life is now, caffeinated or not.

      Some minor travel-related inconveniences like a slow moving line are no reason to grumble. It wasn’t long ago when we missed the close proximity of a crowd. Traveling again is a reason for joy, and so too is reviewing an early start to the day while awaiting the miracle of coffee.

    • Living a Bit More Like Thich Nhat Hanh

      “People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don’t even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child—our own two eyes. All is a miracle”. — Thich Nhat Hanh

      When Thich Nhat Hanh passed away in January, I didn’t treat it like a celebrity passing, I didn’t mention it at all, really. I let the moment pass with a virtual bow. He may have passed from this world, but he’ll live on as Thoreau or Mary Oliver or Marcus Aurelius lives on. Such is the power of the written word.

      “I promise myself that I will enjoy every minute of the day that is given me to live.”

      We live in a contentious, angry world. And yet, you and I aren’t angry or contentious. You and I are living a contemplative life, a celebratory life. We embrace every moment for all that it implies. We walk through this world like our feet are kissing the earth, gently embracing our time here. We fight the urge to amplify hatefulness, and offer love instead.

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

      If we pick up anything from Thich Nhat Hanh, it ought to be this hyper-awareness of each moment for all that it offers to us. We will surely slip back into the hectic and annoyed frenzy of our purposeful action bouncing up against an indifferent world, for life isn’t just meditation and sipping tea, but his wisdom offers an opportunity to recenter ourselves. A chance in the madness to pause, breath in and celebrate the miracle of that particular heartbeat.

      “My actions are my only true belongings.”

      Sure, celebrating each moment of aliveness is lovely, but what are we offering back to the world for our being here? What is our contribution? This is where East meets West, for we all want to bring something to the dance, don’t we? The very question means we don’t see the forest for the trees. Our lives should be a positive vibration that tickles the fancy of those we touch, that inspires a smile for the encounter. Maybe that’s our ripple.

    • When We Walk

      “When we walk like (we are rushing), we print anxiety and sorrow on the earth. We have to walk in a way that we only print peace and serenity on the earth… Be aware of the contact between your feet and the earth. Walk as if you are kissing the earth with your feet.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

      “When we walk, we naturally go to the fields and woods: what would become of us, if we walked only in a garden or a mall?” – Henry David Thoreau, Walking

      I’ve been walking on pavement too often recently. The mileage is good but the spirit is muted. Your feet have a hard time connecting you to the earth when there’s three inches of asphalt separating you from it. Still, walking on asphalt is better than being indoors all day, and to be honest, I’ve experienced too much of that lately.

      One recent walk took me along the Cape Cod Canal for six miles. Visually it was striking with a parade of yachts and commercial vessels streaming past on a particularly busy day. And the company was certainly good. But that connection to the earth was missing on those paved bike paths.

      Maybe walks on pavement are better than nothing, but like Henry I wonder what becomes of us when we aren’t off in the fields and woods. The more we connect our feet to the earth and cover ground the more we hear our own voice. Walking flushes the toxins out of your body and soul. Sitting all the time, as we do these days with our desk jobs and a return to commuting robs us of that flushing and the ick pools up inside of us until we once again get up and out.

      Today is a good day for a walk.

    • Table of One

      “We are here to awaken from our illusion of separateness.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

      I went to a restaurant last week for dinner. We sat under a covered patio on a beautiful night, hard surfaces all around and a low buzz of conversation reverberating from table to table throughout the space. Halfway through dinner a group sat at a table nearby and began loud talking to each other, and I listened as the rest of the tables reacted. We all want to be heard, and the natural inclination is to raise your own voice. The restaurant transformed right before my ears to a dull roar.

      We live with technological amplifiers that drive our differences home, stir the pot and separate people into us and them. The world is full of voices seeking to be heard, and people will amplify differences for attention and profit. Just like that restaurant, we find ourselves in a place where the only way to get attention is to shout. But when everyone is doing the same thing you reach a point of diminishing returns.

      The thing is, that group that sat down looked like a fun bunch of people. So did the people at the other tables. I might be slightly biased, but so are we. But we were all placed in a position where we were competing to be heard against the other tables around us. Each expressing themselves to an audience that was finding it hard to follow along.

      The world has never felt more separated. Yet each of us are connected and largely the same. With similar hopes and dreams and a basic need to be heard and understood. Our separateness is an illusion. We were all on the same patio, in the same restaurant, no matter which table we sat around.