Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself (Self Help Book)

Law of Attraction. How the Brain Works. Habitual Thinking. Change.

The recently released, Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself by Dr. Joe Dispenza does a nice job of combining the Law of Attraction with research about the brain. The book is relatively easy to read and immediately practical. It describes why, despite our best intentions, we stay stuck in self-defeating ways of thinking and behaving. It describes how we identify our “self” from a neurological point of view. It then describes how we can create a new “self.”

I am a great fan of Joe Dispenza. He was one of my favorite people in What the Bleep. I loved Evolve Your Brain: The Science of Changing Your Mind even though at times I felt overwhelmed by the amount of detail. Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself has just the right amount of science for me. Right from the very beginning, the way the book is written caused me to start contemplating the ideas, even when I was engaged in my daily activities. Although Dispenza never directly refers to Eastern Philosophy, many of the ideas in the book echo Tai Chi and Zen mindfulness principles. This book makes sense to me. It is a wonderful book for people who feel stuck in their lives and want to change.

The Mindful Path to Self-Compassion (Self-help Book)

Being compassionate means that we recognize when someone is in pain, we abandon our fear of or resistance to it, and a natural feeling of love and kindness flows toward the suffering individual.

We start [being self-compassionate] by befriending who we are today, no matter how fumbling, incomplete, or clueless we are. Full acceptance of ourselves, moment to moment, makes it easier to adapt and change in the direction we’d like to go.

Compassion and self-compassion are topics that have gained popularity in recent years. In a society where depression and anxiety have become almost epidemic, self-compassion is a much needed skill. The Mindful Path to Self-Compassion by Christopher K. Germer is a helpful, well-written, and very user friendly book. It contains principles that the reader can immediately begin to put into practice, yet it so full of good content that many readers will want to come back to it again and again.

The Mindful Path to Self-Compassion discusses three major tools: acceptance, mindfulness, and Metta. Acceptance involves befriending ourselves in the moment. Mindfulness involves being fully present in the moment. Metta is a type of prayer/meditation that invokes loving-kindness.

The Mindful Path to Self-Compassion contains good activities and plenty of examples. It also includes information — nicely set off from the main text—about research in the area of self-compassion. What I especially like about the book is that it recognizes that we are not all the same. Germer includes suggestions for different personalities. He also offers alternatives for different activities. For example, many meditation instructions use the breath as a way to anchor a person’s awareness. Unfortunately this doesn’t always work for me; I sometimes begin to hyperventilate. Germer includes additional anchors the user can try.

I have read The Mindful Path to Self-Compassion once, but feel that I have only scratched the surface on the information. What I found interesting is that I began to feel more compassionate toward other people after finishing the book. The skills involved in self-compassion also affect how we interact with the world.

Last Tai Chi Class of the School Year

Experiential. We just finished our last Tai Chi class of the school year. I learned more this year than I have in any year since I originally learned the Tai Chi form. This year was very experiential. Rather than focusing on Bob, our Tai Chi instructor, we were directed to focus on our own experiences as we did the form. Sometimes Bob would have us focus our attention on a particular part of our body or particular aspect of our movement, such as shifting our weight. Other times Bob would have us use some sort of visualization as we did the form.

In this last class, Bob used more visualization. First, we imagined elongating our arms: shoulder to elbow, elbow to wrist, and hand to fingertip. Next, we were to imagine that our head was being pulled upward and our pelvis being pulled downward, elongating our spine. After that, we were to imagine that our back was leaning against a wall as we did the form, an interesting feeling. We closed the class and the year by doing the form as if it were brand new, like we were doing it for the first time.

I end the class with a mixture of sadness, fear, and gratitude. I am not sure where my life is going to take me, so I don’t know whether I will be back in autumn. Yet, I was exposed to so many ideas in the past year that I have enough material to experiment with for a long, long time.

Fourth Tai Chi Class of the Semester

Last week subzero wind chills convinced me to stay home from Tai Chi. This week my Tai Chi lesson began as soon as I stepped out the door. The predicted snow that we didn’t get last night evidently was instead light rain. A thin coating of ice covered the sidewalks. I had a hard time getting traction to walk the half mile to the bus. So, I lowered my center of gravity—which is a lesson that Bob, our Tai Chi instructor, has harped on for years—and barely raised me feet off the ground as I walked, a type of skating movement. Years ago I took a class on Ba Gua Zhang from Bob which used that same movement. It worked; I didn’t have an issue with slipping when I stayed focused on the movement.

The actual Tai Chi was very helpful too, as always. We again focused our attention on different things as we did the form: neck and shoulders, arm and leg joints, ligaments, shifting weight from leg to leg, the fullness of each posture, and staying in sync with the participants around us. I realized I don’t have a lot of sense of my ligaments. The tightness in my neck and shoulders are my bane. Sometimes when I focus on them they relax. Other times they seem to be giving me the raspberries: “Yeah, you just make us relax. Na, Na.” Anyway, I have enough old and new things to keep me busy in practice this week.

Second Tai Chi Class of the Semester

Matching Another Person’s Pace.

Again this week our Tai Chi instructor, Bob, had us pay attention to our bodies as we did the Tai Chi form: the small movements our hands made, the alignment of our backs, the twisting of our bodies, the micro-movements within the major movements of the form.

Somehow I managed to find a spot on the far right hand side of the group. There are a couple of people who are bit rusty, so they had me to watch when they forgot sections. The only problem was that I tend to rush through the form when I practice at home. When we turned to the right, I couldn’t see Bob and could only see a few other people out of the corner of my eye when I needed to check how far along we were in the sequence. My mind tried to problem-solve. Shouldn’t I be able to gauge myself with my breath? Was I out of cadence with the group? With Bob? On a number of occasions in the past, he has said that some of the issues we encounter in Tai Chi apply to other aspects of our lives. I thought about how in Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP),  pacing is an important factor in developing rapport with another person. Is the universe nudging me to pay more attention to my pacing in relationships? Or, do I just tend to rush through the form?

I again have plenty of ideas to work on when I practice this week and beyond. Unless the weather changes from the current reports, I am not going to wait for the bus in the frigid cold and turn into a studentcicle next week. I instead plan to be under an electric blanket, reading Isaac Asimov’s Foundation Series—oh, and practicing at home later in the day.

Yoga for Anxiety (Book)

A Kinder, Gentler Approach to Anxiety.

In Yoga for Anxiety, Mary NurrieStearns, LCSW, RYT and Rick NurrieStearns offer a gentle, compassionate approach to handling anxiety and share wise insights based on their experiences. I originally picked up the book because I thought I could benefit from some Yoga postures that specifically target the fight or flight —anxiety—response. The book delivered on that and a whole lot more. Using the philosophy of Yoga as a foundation, the authors discuss the causes of anxiety and how to calm the mind, providing meaningful questions and exercises. Some of the tools they offer to ease anxiety are mantras, different types of breathing techniques, and awareness/witnessing techniques.

Scattered throughout the book were tidbits that made me think “why didn’t someone tell me this a long time ago!!”  For example, many of us have had plenty of insights into what may have originally caused our anxiety, but then feel stuck about what to do next. The authors offer a simple, yet powerful phrase to say to ourselves when old material comes up in the present: “such an innocent misunderstanding.”  Another powerful insight is the concept of samskara, grooves created in our minds from reoccurring thoughts. It helped me understand some of the frustrations I have had over the years when trying to deal with anxiety. A much smaller, but useful tidbit was the idea of doing mantras—which rightly or wrongly I associated with affirmations—beginning on the out breath, thus engaging the parasympathetic, relaxation, response. Similarly, the authors indicated that people tend to be more relaxed when they inhale through their left nostril. Yet, another major “wow” for me was the idea that we do violence to ourselves by our inner criticism.

Anxiety is a complex disorder, which often requires a multiple-part solution: medicine, diet, exercise, psychotherapy. Yoga for Anxiety never suggests that it has the answer. What it does have are some wise insights and useful tools that can be utilized immediately. The authors understand how to gently coax anxiety out of our lives.

First Tai Chi Class of the Semester

Like Coming Home. I had to take two buses this morning with a wind chill in the single digits to get to class. I am not sure how to explain the experience to people who don’t have a similar point of reference. Yes, I could have been doing Tai Chi at home, maybe even trying something new from a book, but it wouldn't have been the same thing. After class Mary was kind enough to drop me off at a bus stop, so that I didn’t have to make a transfer on my way home, and she referred to the group as her “Tai Chi Sisters.” Many in the group have been together for over ten years.

On our first pass through the Tai Chi form this morning Bob, our Tai Chi Instructor, had us focus on how we felt. I am sure he had something different in mind when he gave the instructions than what I noticed. First, I became aware of what was stiff and hurt. I then became aware of how different it was practicing with a group than by myself, having to pay attention to the pace of the other women—and one man—around me. I became aware of a certain vulnerability welling up inside of me as I realized how tentative and fragile the experience of being together as a little community is.—Earlier this week, after I received news that a once close friend had passed away, I had spent time thinking about the close knit groups I had been involved with in another state.— Lastly, I became aware of a global body energy: a circle around me, the farthest reach of my hands and my knees, and of my feet when I kicked.

Bob talked about going into the void, into the unknowing. This seems to be a theme in my life lately, including some of the books I have been reading. New ideas and learning come up from that void. So, as the class progressed and we did parts of the form, we were instructed to focus on specific parts of our bodies and just pay attention without thinking about them conceptually, without any preconceived notions, being open to what came up. Our last time through, we were instructed to focus on foot, ankle, knee, and hip. I started running into a paradox, because I needed to have some way of homing into those parts. I tried to imagine dots on each part, which created a layer between my attention and my direct awareness. I am beginning to feel much more camaraderie with all those old Zen masters and their convoluted sentences.

As we left class, Mary echoed my sentiments. This year's classes has been some of the most challenging and most rewarding.

The Cow In the Parking Lot

Ican imagine the Sixth Sense version of Haley Joel Osment saying “I see angry people” and giving a look of horror for the camera. I see angry people everywhere: on the television, in public places campaigning, on the internet, on the magazine rack in the grocery store, even in the mirror. Such rampant anger can’t be good for society, and it certainly isn’t good for people’s health.

Evidently I am not alone in my experience. This week I read The Cow in the Parking Lot—A Zen Approach to Overcoming Anger by Leonard Scheff and Susan Edmiston. Most intrapersonal change begins with awareness. The authors suggest we begin by observing when we are angry and then start looking at what unfulfilled needs might be triggering the anger. Using the Zen approach, they describe anger as an addiction and as a habitual way of dealing with life. This little book is packed with good advice.

Where does the cow fit in? The book begins with a story of someone waiting patiently for a particular parking spot and then, at the last second, someone in another car taking their spot. Grrrr!! Now imagine instead a cow taking the spot instead of the car. Huh? Different experience, eh?

Destiny

So many of us are always looking for the perfect moment where we find the job that reflects our right livelihood, meet our soul mate, buy the perfect home, etc. Maybe, each moment is right and perfect. Once in awhile I will be walking and think to myself, “What if this is the moment that my whole life has been leading up to? Here. Now, as I walk up this hill on the way to the grocery store.” Suddenly colors seem brighter. I notice the sounds of the birds. I am conscious of my posture and my breath. The moment becomes sacred.

Speak up, destiny, speak up! Destiny always seems decades away, but suddenly it’s not decades away; it’s right now. But maybe destiny is always right now, right here, right this very instant, maybe.

Walter M. Miller, A Canticle for Leibowitz

Appreciating Now

I appreciate my life today. If I don’t appreciate it now, then that now will turn into hours, the hours into days, the days into months and the months into years, and then I will have missed them. The moment is all that I have, what I do not say now will go unsaid, what I do not do now will go undone. What I do not see now, when it surrounds me, will go unseen.

Tian Dayton, The Soul’s Companion

Now

Whenever you find yourself feeling overwhelmed, ask yourself, “Have I stopped living in the now?”…We try to anticipate the things that will happen in the future so we can feel in control of our lives, but we almost always end up feeling overwhelmed and out of control. The best way to be in control of our lives is to stay present in the moment.

Echo Bodine, A Still Small Voice

Magnificent Now

I have to go do something magnificent now, while the day is still young.

Audrey in Manor of Death by Leslie Caine.

In the Moment

So often I find my attention everywhere except the moment in which I actually am living. In the following quote from Reading Jesus Mary Gordon is talking about being fully present when reading the Gospels, but this quote could apply to some much of what we do.

If we focus in the moment as moment, we are committed to a radical present. We inhabit the terrain of experience rather than implication. We allow the experience of an experience; if we defer interpretation, allowing the events themselves to wash over and then penetrate us—what kinds of comprehension might then follow?