We have brilliant brains — you and I. I cherish that space between my ears and love my brain! It thinks intelligent, important thoughts. It solves complex problems. It comes up with elaborate, detailed, really impressive plans. However, my head has been talking so loudly and so much lately that I can’t hear my heart.
I do not want to get rid of my thinking mind, and so as not to throw the baby out with the bath water (and yoga is after all a practice of integration and not exclusion), I am asking my thinking mind to just quiet down for a bit so that I an check in with my heart, so that it too can feel heard, be part of the conversation, and play.
If you’d like to join me, let’s very kindly ask our heads to take a little rest. Look, to be honest, it’s not their fault that they’re loud and like to show off; they often get applauded and rewarded for their activity. So let’s not demonize or punish our minds, or any part of ourselves for that matter. Remember, yoga is the practice of remembering our wholeness; it’s about inclusion, kindness, and compassion for all parts of ourselves as well as others.
Let’s instead say to our thinking mind something like, “Hi, there! Listen, I know you have lots to share. You are such a strong and diligent worker — I see that. I appreciate you, and I hear you. I hear you. But I’ve gotta say, you look exhausted. You deserve a break. Why don’t you sit back for a bit and take a little time off?” And with that we give our thinking minds permission to stand down.
Then let’s invite our breath to deepen as we turn our attention to our heart space. Take three deep breaths here. To your heart you might say something like, “Hey, heart! How’s it going? Can I get you anything?” Now our hearts may take a while to respond, and so let’s just sit quietly, wait patiently, and hold space for them. Continue to breathe deeply and steadily, and listen…
Meanwhile our minds may be getting restless. They’re not used to all this downtime, and so they start looking around for a project with which to occupy themselves. Your busy-body mind spots you sitting quietly with your heart and starts to head your way. Here’s what we might do: We can turn to our mind and say, “Thank you for your concern. I know I rely so heavily on you, but I need a little time with my heart right now. Please have a seat.” If your mind is anything like mine, you might have to reassure it: “No, I’m not mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just not your turn.”
Then bring your attention back to your heart space and your breath, and allow that awareness in your heart to slowly begin growing outward inch by inch through your torso and limbs until eventually it includes your whole body. Allow yourself to enter into and begin to indulge in the world of sensation.
Pema Chödrön writes, “Feel the feelings and drop the story.” Feel the feelings and drop the story. Feelings live in the heart and in the body. Stories live in the mind. Feelings exist in the present moment, and stories are relics of the past.
Breath meets you, your true essence, from present moment to present moment. Allow the breath to bring You to intersect with this very moment. And then this one. And then this one…
When you notice your mind rustling around, looking for a thought to attach to or a problem to solve or even just ruminate on, turn to it with compassion and invite it to join you in this moment. Yoga means “union.” It is the union of mind, body, and soul. It is the practice of integrating all parts of ourselves.
I believe meditation can be anything done with awareness. Keeping the deep connection you’ve established to your inner life and an ear to your heart, I invite you to engage in some physical movement fully infused with awareness in order to embody this experience of listening and presence. Because we are, after all, humans with bodies and minds having this earthly experience.
Then when you come to rest in stillness (perhaps in savanna), you can practice detachment and letting go. You are neither your feelings nor your stories. They both pass through and undoubtedly shape your experience, but True You is something much more constant that either stories or feelings. Thoughts, feelings, and stories come and go, and we don’t always get to decide when they’ll come, for how long they’ll stay, nor when they’ll go. But we can create conditions for a more easeful, flowing passage by remembering that they are something separate from us/our true essence. And we can practice gently releasing our grasp when we find we’ve been enticed and have grabbed ahold of one.
Krystal Barschig 