When I’m going through a
difficult time, I try to remember to pause and notice what’s going on in my
body. What sensations are present that aren't usually here?
For example, have you ever
felt an achy heaviness in the chest area? That can be a physical manifestation of
loss. Next time you feel that sensation, you might pause to consider what’s
going on in your life. Where might you be feeling loss?
If we can notice a physical
sensation, we can hold it with tenderness. We can be the kind friend to
ourselves that we try to be for others. We can be present to experience this
sensation, and to be compassionate with it. This is much more powerful than
trying to talk ourselves out of it.
I grew up back when 'emotional intelligence' was not even coined as a term. My mother was a great and
loving woman. I was very lucky. But even so, if I said, ‘Mom, I’m feeling sad,’
she would get very uncomfortable and tell me that I had nothing to complain
about. It’s not her fault. If she were a young mother today, chances are she
would know that telling someone they shouldn't feel what they feel is not very
useful.
Has anyone ever told you
to stuff down your feelings or trade them in for a shinier happy version that
would make everyone feel more comfortable? And if so, have you found that their
voices are still in your head, still telling you it’s not okay to feel what you
feel?
Most of us have
stuffed-down sadness that we didn't let ourselves feel at the time it occurred.
It is still there, compressed under layers and layers of judgment. When we notice it, we
rush to put on a smiley-faced band-aid and hope nobody notices.
Noticing is what our
mindfulness practice is all about. We notice physical sensation first and
foremost. It anchors us in the present moment which is the only one that exists. The past and future are just thoughts. We can’t change the past, though we can change how we relate to it, and any power we have over the
future is contained in this present moment.
But are we
willing to be present when we’re going through something difficult?
Most of us want to rush
past this experience and get to a pleasant one. Maybe we’re embarrassed to be
down and that adds to our discomfort. So we’re racing toward some brighter
future, but we are dragging all these weighty anchors from the past. Our anger
and judgments are rooted there. We’re not operating from here and now but from
where we once were because we weren't sufficiently there to notice what was
going on at the time and to give ourselves the simple gift of being there. It's complicated!
You can see how this gets
us into trouble.
In Psalms 23.4 the Bible
says 'Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear
no evil.’ This is identifying a human experience we all share at times. We find
ourselves walking through a dark valley. We don’t have the vantage of the
mountain top to see the lay of the land, so we don’t know where this valley
leads. Maybe we get anxious and want very much to get past this narrowing in the
inner landscape. We’re spending all our time looking for a way out.
But the
valley is actually a very fertile place, and there is great value in simply
being here where we are. In fact, the valley is
so fertile that whatever it is we seed there will grow up before our eyes. If
we are afraid of what we’ll find in the darkness, we seed fear. From the seeds
of fear grow all manner of demon-like thoughts and emotions, like associated
memories from youth that have lain dormant these many years that now rise up to
taunt us. Loser! Loner! Unacceptable! Different! Pathetic!
But even
in this dark narrow valley we are never alone. We are each of us an intrinsic
part of the grand scheme of things, a natural expression of the life force. If
we can sense into physical sensation we can remember this connection and the
fear will soften. We can seed that same valley with love and compassion that in
turn nourishes us. We are then able to follow our natural course at an easeful
pace. We cease to struggle to get a mountain top vantage point but accept that
we just don’t know. And that’s okay.
We expect
to be in dark valleys when we have experienced a loss of any kind. We don’t
expect to wake up one day and for no particular reason find we’re in a valley.
But it happens, doesn't it?
Sometimes
when we do what feels like the next right thing in the natural flow of our
lives, we come to a bend in the river and the shadows of the canyon walls make
everything go dark. At this point we have no idea what to do. We thought we had
a clear course, yet here we are in the valley of darkness! How did this happen?
As an
example, I have recently embarked on a journey, having made a decision to
publish some of my writing in book form, and I find myself at times in the
valley. I recognize it. I have been here before. It is the place where
all the taunts of my youth come up to haunt me.
I think how
foolish I must have appeared when, as a new kid in school, I ran for an office
because no one else was running and I thought it would be a good way to meet
people. That would have probably worked out okay except that at the last minute
the most popular girl in the class decided to run as well, and it was too late
for me to withdraw. How awkward I felt making campaign promises standing in front
of the whole student body in the expensive Pendleton plaid wool pleated skirt my
mother had splurged on so I would feel confident for the occasion.
It was of
course no surprise that I didn't win, but here’s the painful part for me to
remember: I stayed after school to wait for the voting results. Now why did I
do that? Did I think I had a chance? That delusional hopefulness worries me.It makes me wonder if am I just as
delusional now.
Of course
in my mother’s view the worst thing about it was that I never wore that
Pendleton skirt again. It was jinxed and had bad memories. I wanted to forget
the whole experience. But clearly I haven't, have I?
When you
find yourself in a dark valley for seemingly no reason, notice what ancient
taunts rise up to pull you down. What are the parallels to your current
situation?
We all
have these echoes within us, these events in our lives that reactivate fear
when any potentially parallel situation arises. So where’s the parallel for me?
In publishing these days it is supremely important to have a preexisting
‘author platform’ -- an audience of people already interested in what the
author has to say. Back in high school as the new kid in town I was completely
lacking in any 'platform' at all, especially compared to that very popular
girl. That's a seemingly direct parallel. Except, as my meditation students point out, I
have them, my blog readers, readers of my last book, as well as a wide circle of friends. I'm not the new kid at school. But the fear is
there.
So here I
am in this dark valley at some moments when self-doubt creeps in. Just last
week I was up on the proverbial mountain, leaping from peak to peak, feeling so
supported by the universe. Absolutely nothing has changed from that moment to
this. Students are sending me lovely expressions of praise to share with
publishers. Friends say how great it is I’m doing it. Those with
knowledge about publishing are particularly encouraging.
But still
I find myself in the dark valley with a bunch of fourteen-year-olds from fifty years ago, who to their credit never said one mean word to me about the whole
debacle. It’s all me creating this valley of darkness. And that's important to
remember.
What can
I do about it? What can any of us do? We stay present with this moment and notice
how it feels to be here with these physical sensations, some of them painful.
We notice how it feels to stay present with these thoughts and emotions that
arise in our field of awareness. Some of them are painful. We don’t try to talk
ourselves out of what we are feeling. We don’t try to shame ourselves into more
cheerful views. We simply stay present and acknowledge that we don’t know how
long we’ll be walking in this dark valley. It may disappear in the next
instant. It may last awhile. We do not know, and that’s important for us to
embrace as a way of relating to our experience and life in general because it’s
the truth in every moment, not just this one.
So we
stay present and compassionate with ourselves, planting seeds of kindness in
this fertile valley. If demons rise up from the fear-seeds we've planted in the past, we
are compassionate with them. We don't indulge their fears but we do acknowledge them. They are like old friends who think they are
trying to protect us. We can remind ourselves that they are well-intentioned
but not wise. So we appreciate their efforts but we don't follow their advice.
With compassion and awareness, we may find that this valley is verdant. Someday we may look back and see it as the source of wonderful things that followed, how we grew in ways we could never have imagined. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's be here in the valley now, noticing physical sensation and giving ourselves time to experience it with compassion.
so helpful to think of The Dark Valley as a fertile place, one that holds not only seeds of fear but seeds of hope and change too.
ReplyDeleteHi Stef, I just found your blog and I wanted to tell you how wonderful it is. I have missed your wisdom. Love cousin Megan
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