Intentionality and Impact

“You cannot get through a single day without having an impact on the world around you. What you do makes a difference, and you have to decide what kind of difference you want to make.” Jane Goodall

A couple of weekends ago I experienced the true impact of meditation and being intentional about carrying this practice into my daily life.

It started with my very first real meditation session about a year ago where I felt so squirmy and uncomfortable with the stillness that I literally had to fight the urge to crawl out of my own skin to get out of the circle of quiet and run from the room to escape the discomfort. It was an oppressive feeling of claustrophobia as if the world and that room had begun to close in around me. I could feel a scream emerging from my body that only I could hear and when I left the group session that day I vowed I would never return. This is anxiety sitting.

I never did return to a group meditation session. But I have since learned to sit with the discomfort of being alone with my own mind. To calm the fear of stillness and all that creeps out of the deeper crevices of the subconscious in that stillness.

Since I have begun taking meditation seriously and committed to a daily practice I have learned to be still in other moments as well. In moments where the situation I am in pokes me and the resulting discomfort drives me to retreat, to move, and to avoid the sharp poky end of what I am experiencing.

I have frequently taken to heart the need to practice Buddhist ethics, meditation and mindfulness in daily life and I have slowly begun to punctuate a day using deep breathing and being present in the moment. This is pretty surface level practice though I see in hindsight and only the beginnings of awareness and intentional movement through a day. I never realized the power of practice outside the meditation session until I experienced meditating with my eyes open sitting across from someone in an uncomfortable situation.

Recently, I was sitting having a conversation with someone I have a lot of history and particular difficulties with. I instantly felt the same feeling of the need for flight that I did that first day in group meditation. This is the feeling of not being able to escape physically, to counter the anxiety with movement, which results in the sensation of a brewing electrical storm spreading through the nervous system with no external outlet to direct the energy.

Then, I found myself suddenly practicing. I let go. I found my center. I parked my mind in the present and I collected the parts of the moment I was grateful for. I sent my mind’s stories about the situation packing and wrapped a comforting blanket of compassion around both of us. I practiced a form of loving-kindness meditation while sitting and having a cup of tea, at my kitchen table, with someone who I have had a hard time sitting with for some time.

The result was a slow and peaceful conversation where time felt still and I was aware of my slow heartbeat, the calm that washed over us both, and the release of a static electric anxiety that usually bounced back and forth between us.

In this moment I experienced the benefits of daily practice and of a commitment to the practice as a way of life.

A few weeks later Donald Trump was elected President-elect in the United States, and I was sent on a trip to fear and despair for two days. I got lost in the what ifs and whys. I let anger cloud my judgement and perspective. I looked for other people to blame. However, in a quite unlikely and uncharacteristically quick turnaround, I began to see the event with less distortion.

Although the election of such an angry and opportunistic man is no joke I began to absorb the more neutral and positive perspectives on the event in addition to the negative and to stop my mind from running all sorts of doomsday scenarios. The election of this man was a cry of help from those potentially most left out in the cold from the global economic system. We can listen to them now and offer them compassion and a voice.

The white middle liberal class (of which I am a part of) that used our words and good intentions to support African Americans, Latinos, Muslims, Jews, women, the LGBTQ community, and racialized people of all stripes have realized quite concretely that pontificating from our comfortable middle class living rooms and office’s isn’t nearly enough. As Rebecca Solnit recently pointed out we are too comfortable with the status quo in this group to get deep into the discomfort of social change. And, I realized that Trump is a symptom of a growing malignancy in the current economic system that we all participate in that until only now have we wanted to truly face.

I stopped. I cleared my head. I began to look for my own role in this historical event and future related ones. I began to practice compassion for the “other side.” I started to use this mindfulness and compassion to begin thinking about how I can be part of the solution.

When I practice in daily life, not just on the cushion, I find I am far more aware of my impacts on others and can choose to be intentional about those impacts. I still am prone to make mistakes, lash out in a bad mood, use harsh words out of frustration, and act out of a place of anger and hurt rather than reflection and compassion. What is different is the speed at which I catch myself in a tailspin. It used to be never or infrequently. I might not even notice my emotions taking control of the cockpit. Over time it takes less and less time to catch the story taking hold, the driving emotion of the moment, and the impact my actions are having on others. I correct course quicker. I come to a place of compassion quicker. I calm the storm of my heart and mind at the speed of a moment or few hours rather than a whole day, year or lifetime.

We each only have this one chance to live this life we are in. We never know when our time will come. It could be today. What the practice of slowing down to meditate and be deeply mindful has begun to teach me is that each moment of this life can be as sweet or as sour as we choose it to be. But I cannot make any choice at all unless I am aware there is a choice to be made and this awareness is activated only by the yeast of daily contemplation.

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