There is so much buzzing around inside me these days!
After a hard season this winter, things have lightened, and I find myself in love with the world, with myself, and with many people in my orbit who are inspiring me. I know this lightness is directly related to the way I let myself feel the confusion, heaviness, and pain of the winter. There is no way through but through. No spiritual bypass, no way to put a positive spin on feeling purposeless or flat. We all feel that way sometimes. Maybe it means something profound, maybe it just is.
I listened to an interview with to the authors of Better in Every Sense recently and have come away with some new language from neuroscience about what being in our bodies does for us. They contrast our brain’s default mode network (stability, habits, routine, automaticity) with our sensory network—the things we hear, see, touch, smell, taste, hear, and the things the actual surface of our bodies are exposed to. We need both these networks. The default mode network does a lot of things for us, but Western culture has overemphasized it. As a result, we have become self-absorbed, lacking external references, and stuck in our anxious heads. The authors say that the default mode network keeps us wondering how to affect the world, while the sensory network allows the world to change us. Isn’t that beautiful?
The way to toggle between these different brain centers is to with the power of our attention. And big shifts don’t require becoming a master meditator. It’s as simple as, “What do I notice about the trees at this intersection I’m at every day?” or “I’m going to smell my coffee before I drink it.” Micro moments when we let our senses be in the driver’s seat. Norman Farb and Zindel Segal call this “sense foraging.”
There’s a lot of talk about getting “out of our heads.” One of my Enneagram teachers, Russ Hudson, says it’s not about getting out of our heads, but getting “into our right minds.” Our right minds let themselves get quiet. They take their hands off the wheel and give in to susurrus (sound of leaves in the wind), petrichor (smell of rain hitting dirt), our hands on a warm dog or cat, noting the way the melons are arranged in the grocery store. This doesn’t take more time. It just takes intention.
I don’t know about you, but June kicks my butt every year. Graduations, endings and beginnings, Father’s Day, my birthday and a million other things. It’s easy to get overwhelmed looking at the calendar and to lose touch with my breath and the miracle of life. I heard Dan Harris interview Sebastian Junger about his near-death experience. One of his takeaways: It’s better to be in this traffic jam than not be here at all.
Thank you, loving universe, for this crowded June calendar, and for all my amazing clients living out their callings in the world. Thank you for morning birdsong. Thank you for the celebrations of Pride this month of June, and everyone with the courage to be who they are. Thank you, zucchini and kale starts in the garden, and even for the caterpillars who come out at night to eat them. All of us creatures, doing our best to survive, and even stumbling into flourishing. Gift after gift.