When Was The Last Time?
When was the last time you took 3 slow, deep breaths? The stress of daily life keeps my breaths shallow, and my stomach tight. Although I'm semi –retired, I still lead a busy 21 st century westerner’s life. I drive in traffic, surf the net, fight to get to the checkout in Trader Joe’s, pay bills, pump my own gasoline, yech! This summer things just weren’t working in my life. I had a disappointing love affair, my friends were unable to keep social plans, I was lonely, stuck with a property I couldn't sell, two-and-a-half years into a self -imposed five year austerity program. When I became aware of how tight my stomach was, I decided to enroll in a 10 day silent meditation retreat at Vallecitos Mountain Ranch in New Mexico to avoid a future diagnosis of acid reflux.
When an old master artist like Di Vinci decided to paint over a part of his initial composition, it was called pentimento, which means to change your mind. Life is just like that; sometimes we paint a composition and then change our minds. Thus, we alter our lives. I went to meditate on order to look deeply into my life composition and alter what needed to be altered.
Set in a pristine mountain forest 9,500 feet above sea level, Vallecitos has nine ponds, flowered valleys, an old restored hunting lodge and private cabins for participants. I joined about 37 like-minded people from various parts of the U.S. and two teachers to explore 10 days of being with my own thoughts, feelings and sensations. Here are some of the awareness’ I garnered.
There is no such thing as silence; sounds are all around us. While in the meditation room my stomach growled so loudly I was afraid it would shatter windows; outside hummingbirds buzzed my head; wind rustled leaves; chipmunks chattered; trees rubbed trunks and made squeaking noises; cattle bellowed; people sneezed, coughed and passed gas; rain pounded the skylight in my yurt; lightening and thunder raged. When I refrain from verbal dialogue I am in touch with a symphony I usually ignore. Listening grounds me and connects me to nature.
As I settled in to the retreat my breathing deepened. As my breathing deepened I became more relaxed. As I relaxed I found that I had more energy. I yielded to the call of the mountains. With each passing day I climbed higher with more ease. I felt as though all living things were breathing too. The earth was breathing, trees, grasses, tiny insects and the granite-mountains were expanding and contracting just like my diaphragm. It felt as though life was breathing me, which filled me with gratitude.
Body sensations can be a real distraction from meditation. Sitting or walking with an aching back or an itchy nose is uncomfortable. Human beings are conditioned to avoid discomfort, and I am no exception. My back was not used to sitting without support. I compared myself to others who seemed to glow as they sat up straight, in a cross-legged position. Rather than make my meditation about misery, I surrendered to a back pillow. Thus, I learned to be more patient with myself. The uncomfortable sensations pass as do the comfortable ones. However, if I became uncomfortable to the point of distraction, I made it OK to move and make myself more comfortable with as little disturbance to others as possible. The idea is to notice and be aware but not to suffer. As time passed, my body became calmer and sitting was easier. Some of my wisest perceptions came while walking after a sit. The day consisted of alternate periods of sitting and walking.
Taste. Wow, I slowed down enough to taste my food. I noticed as days passed that I took less from the buffet table and that because I actually tasted, smelled and chewed, I ate with appreciation and gusto. I was able to taste all the subtle flavors in a salad. Although I am a hippocritarian when it comes to my diet, I wish I could only eat fruits and vegetables but my body needs fish and fowl proteins. I faired well with the generous portions of fresh vegetarian cuisine. Imagine, there is no need for water filters at Vallecitos. I drank pure clean water and imagined it was cleansing every cell in my body.
With only a small mirror in my yurt, I stopped looking at my imperfections. Instead, I was noticing more of my surroundings. I began finding one inch cocoons during walking meditation periods. Later, when I had a private interview with one of the teachers, I described what my life had been like over the past several and she replied, “Oh, you’re in a cocoon.” Finding puffy white cocoons on forest walks was an outward confirmation of an inner experience. Some call it synchronicity. I call it liberating.
On one wooded walk, I found a butterfly at my feet. Colors seemed more intense. I noticed the purple and green of sunsets and the ruby throats of hummingbirds. When it wasn’t storming at night, I watched the night sky from my yurt’s sky bubble. Stargazing escorted me back to the wonders of childhood.
Each day I became more focused and concentrated. Creative ideas that flourished the first few days now gave way to a stability in the present moment, a capacity for stillness along with sharp attention. For example, I was standing on a rock slab feeling the sunshine on my head and a breeze caressing my cheeks, when a teal hummingbird came to my gently fisted hand. Three times it stuck its slender beak into the opening as if to suck out nectar. Had I not been so still, so concentrated in the present, I doubt the little bird would have mistaken my open fist for a flower. The hummingbird was a reward for my effort.
With that much focus and concentration, strong memories and emotions surface. Some are welcomed guests and many are difficult. Like all thoughts, they eventually pass, often leaving behind new awareness. It’s not something that happens once or twice: it’s a lifetime work. I noticed that each time the memory of a painful event arose, if I offered myself forgiveness, even if it was another person who injured me, I felt a sense of peace. Then, the memory would pass with ease. If I did not offer myself forgiveness it persisted until I made the offering. By imagining I was breathing into my heart, difficult thoughts melted. I grew more aware of the constant flux of thoughts and emotions. That gave me the grace to stay in y heart and not always get caught up in the feelings. By staying in my heart I remained in the present more often, rather than rummaging around in the past or fantasizing about the future. I found I had more internal room for creative envisioning in order for a shift to occur.
I also came to realize that if I lower my expectations, I can be a happier person. During rainstorms, sleeping in a yurt with an outhouse I couldn’t reach without getting soaked may not have been an issue for most of the retreatents. For me it was. It reminded me of a bad experience at Girl Scout camp when I was eight, my first separation from my mother. This time, I was in my 60s. Not about to be wet and cold (in July the temperature drops to high 30s at night), I found an empty white plastic bucket that I kept in the yurt at night, a blissful relief. I didn’t have to pee outside during the deluge and the daily New Mexico rains rinsed the bucket day. I was happy with less. Creative problem solving replaced emotional turmoil.
Finally, I returned home ten days later like a child returning from a wonderful time at summer camp. I was tanned, fit, eating healthy foods, breathing more deeply, appreciating the little joys of the day, sipping a cup of my favorite beverage, savoring the scent of it as I brought it to my lips, hearing the sound of my backyard fountain, appreciating indoor plumbing, resolving to take good care of myself.
Do I continue to meditate at home? Yes, I curl up in a window seat looking out at yellow-pink roses, my back comfortably supported by a pillow I take long slow breaths while I imagine I am sending oxygen into my heart. When my mind wanders I gently come back to my breath. My simple practice is to send kindness to myself. Then, as I feel anchored, others come to mind like at the cleaner’s ( a neutral person); a beloved friend (that’s easier); my former employer (not easy); and I focus on their well-being. I say silently to myself, “Just as I wish to be happy may s/he be happy.” I remember to breathe. Sending my wishes for my happiness and the happiness of others brings me peace and refreshes my ordinary life. It gives me a sense that I am able to contribute positively to the flow of life.
It’s been five weeks since my return. Demands and distractions clamor for my attention. Few things have changed on the outside. Although I know that with the way my life is going, I have not reached the end of this difficult period. My house didn’t sell. I’ve had to rent it. Some friends continue to make plans and then break them. I’m making new friends. It’s the same life. However, I am more accepting of it. By accepting the changing nature of all life, I know that the cocoon that still shelters and confines me will pass. The daily practice of simply being aware of my breath while walking, sitting or lying down seems to soften my life’s tensions. It provides me with a greater ability to respond intuitively when a response is needed. I’ve lowered my usually demanding self-expectations and my heart inclines toward more joy, more gratitude. Loneliness has matured to sacred silence. I’m clearer in my artful vision for pentimento.
I leave you with a quote by Sri Nisargadatta
“Love tells me I’m everything
Wisdom tells me I’m nothing
Between the two my life flows.”
Andrea Campbell, PhD. Is a licensed mental health counselor practicing in Santa Fe, New Mexico. She uses ancestral contact in helping individuals understand their lives. She is a certified couples counselor and art therapist. She has been practicing Insight Meditation since 1983.
[photography by Andrea Campbell]
20 Comments
Reader Comments (20)
What a lovely sharing, Andrea. I swear, I was calming down as I read it. I think this piece will travel with me....
Oh Andi - for you will always be Andi to me - your words came at a wonderful time. This is my day to volunteer at the local hospice. I was sitting with a patient that loves being read to so I asked her if she'd like to hear an article from an old friend. She is no longer verbal so I waited for the go ahead. After almost a minute she rubbed my hand which was the go ahead. She fell asleep rubbing my hand. We were both so relaxed. I loved it and she needed it. Thanks for sharing your experience.
Thank you for this gentle reminder!! Abrazos y besos....
Last week I found myself so stressed I did what you suggested at the beginning of the article...three deep ones! What a peaceful article. Thank you for sharing, and hope all gets better for you. A great reminder to slow down and smell the roses.
So wonderful Andrea, I enjoyed a lot reading it. It was good for me to read listen to silence is getting towards silence....
sharing your authentic experience makes me stop in my parisian buisiness ; thanks for reminding that love can be cery simple and near to me
felt myself breathing deeper while reading your article, even paused and listened to the traffic and the wind outside, "there is no such thing as silence" and 'listening grounds me' gave me pause to listen. how sweet the moments with your hummingbird friend.
beautiful description of your experience. makes me want to practice more kindness to myself and others. thank you for writing and bringing me back to now. look forward to reading more.
Andrea dear, my very wise & long-time friend. I have been thinking about you. Missing you. Thank you for visiting me this morning & bringing your wisdom & inspiration. Deep love, barbara
Beautiful article full of so many wonderful details and examples too, the photos really enhanced the article as well. Great that you are doing such inspired writing!!!
Marcia Starck
you took me right there with you on retreat so double goodies - being with you and enjoying the beauty of set and setting. un mil gracias. love, tomás
What a wonderful piece! I am so glad to hear about your journey. As my friend says: "Life keeps lifing!" The retreat and all the gifts you let yourself receive were very touching. I too have found myself in the cocoon so many times - that place where we actually dissolve in order to take on a new form. It takes great trust and patience. I moved to the west coast so maybe we can see each other again soon. Thank you for sharing your beautiful self!
I liked your writing very much! I was right there enjoying the retreat with you. Photos much appreciated too.
Barbara Lund
I have thought about you often, dear Andi. It was thrilling to spend some time with you in Santa Fe, in the embrace of your warmth, beauty, kindness and generosity....after reuniting last October after 50 years of separation....unimaginable to realize that!...and then to find ourselves feeling so close, again, as in high school.
and now you have shared with me a wonderful writing; again, your generosity of sharing. Here I am, in the dark, chilly and often rain-filled nights of lush Oregon, living on a main thoroughfare. You have reminded me of the healing powers of pure nature - you were in the mountains. For me it is often the sea and its sky that I run to, not far from home, changing throughout the day and night, giving me the gift of the sounds of birds and surf, the wind, and, also, the rain.
You remind me of the power of breathing and how renewing it is. I will remember to breathe deeply, and feel the release, too,
now.
I have just been through a couple months of terrifying predictions about my health. Right now, it looks like I will be fine, with some minor adjustments. The great stress of this period, i thought, would certainly make me keel over! My son, Mateo, who felt my stress after just revealing to him what i had been going through, asked me if i would do some exercises with him to forgive his father and wish him well and thereby giving myself the gift of less stress and freedom from negative feelings.I was amazed that just his mentioning it made me feel dizzy and tired and very stressed! It has been twenty years and I did not realize how much I still harbored the hate! I am telling you this because your writing has communicated to me that yes, I do need to forgive and, thereby, be more open to the flow of the good life.
I am so blessed to have had many dreams-come-true. Thank you, dear Andi, for the gift of your writing, of sharing your struggles and victories, of finding your breathe and your life source and helping me to find mine, also.
I truly hope to see you in Oaxaca this winter.
Much love, abrazos y besos, eshkie
I was thrilled to read this article as it took me on a wonderful journey that I could totally relate to! Letting go of the everyday cultural chaos we live in and choosing to be somewhere one can breathe and be still to be in the moment is a courageous and fabulous gift the author gave herself. She exquisitely shared her journey and musings along the way. I was quite impressed with her memory to details. It was those details that drew me in! Ah, what a refreshing joy! Ever so grateful, Molly
Thank you for sharing a glimpse into what it is to be a human being in these times... going from a human doing to a human being.
With breathe, and heart, we become!
It's been a long time since we have connected... so glad your writing made it to my inbox/inbreathe.
love,
debra rosenman
Andrea,
Reading the recollections of your 10 day retreat, reminded me of the several silent retreat weekends I have taken.
Taking deep breaths, listening to my breathing, being aware of all the sounds and sights around me during walking
meditation and having and taking the time to journal and allow all my thoughts to flow through me.
Reading your article allowed me to remind myself that I may and indeed can, sit quietly every single day, give thanks
for all my life and move forward through it with as much grace as I am able.
I'm looking forward to meeting you.
Thank you, Judy
Well done Andrea. I enjoyed reading your article. There are so many truths in it. Keep on writing, growing, and relaxing.
Laura Lynch
Andrea, what a beautiful article and wonderful insights you've shared with us. I could feel myself relaxing as I read through it, and the pictures made me feel as if I were there. Thank you for sharing this experience. We all benefit from it.
Love,
Suzanne
Thank you for this wonderful article, Andrea. It is almost the flip side of my contribution to YLIAT this month. I know I need to breathe more deeply. I hope to meet your hummingbird soon!
The the first conscious breath I took today was at the start of reading. The deepest breath I took today was at the end of reading. Thank you.
A very moving reminder of life essentials! Even when we need to stay put, we can travel to that realm Andrea so beautifully writes about. Thanks! Marianna