by Chris Warner, Ed.M, E-RYT santiyoga@yahoo.com
December 12, 2011 (an abbreviated version will appear in The Tri-Town Transcript)
It goes without saying: we, as Americans (and, indeed, as human beings), live in stressful, troubling times. Many feel betrayed by their government, and by Wall Street; many, despite the preponderance of communication devices, feel more isolated and alienated than ever before; many families are struggling to simply ‘keep up,’ as the unemployment rate hovers at about 9%; and within our schools, serious issues like bullying, cutting, and substance abuse seem to be trending upward. And, of course, the holiday season is upon us, a time when we are bombarded with media messages ‘about’ Christmas—images of beribboned new cars, shiny jewelry, sleek electronic devices, and of course, truckloads of brightly wrapped toys under ornamented and twinkling trees that seem to tower impossibly skyward. Happiness (and generosity) is equated with consumption. And the message is that without these things, we are somehow lacking.
As a yoga teacher, I see students’ faces as they come to class—the pinch of stress between the brows, the tight jaws. I hear students’ conversations before class—‘how am I going to get it all done?’ ‘everything is so crazy!’ ‘I stood in line for 6 hours last night waiting for a LeapPad’—or for an Elmo doll. I feel the pain that comes from held-breath, from the need to get more, to ‘fill up’—the pain that comes from a false sense of deficit.
And then, together, we come to the cushion and mat. We settle in. We practice.
Funny, by class end, faces are soft, students are smiling. It’s as if there’s been a collective exhale.
Thich Nhat Hanh, the beloved Buddhist monk, poet, and peace activist, teaches us that whatever it is we’d like to harvest, these are the seeds we must plant and cultivate. Gratitude, practiced mindfully, connects us to all of life—to its wonders and its joys, as well as to its mysteries, and uncertainty—and to the realization that there is a larger context within which our personal stories are unfolding. Gratitude—and not in the sentimental or boring or indebted or obligatory sense, but in the heart-softening sense of spaciousness, of thankfulness—is the place from which true generosity and happiness, as well as liberation from fear and craving, arises.
This season in particular, I offer some suggestions for practicing conscious cultivation of gratitude, thus planting the seeds of happiness and well-being within, and allowing our natural generosity to then flow out. And we begin with ourselves, and within our own families:
- Practice a few moments of quiet each morning—maybe even before getting out of bed—and consider 3 things for which you are thankful (this might be your partner, your children, your breath);
- Share this practice this with your partner and/or your children, or a friend;
- Consider starting the day media-free (letting go of the morning paper or morning TV news); if you need information on school closings, sign up for text notifications, or check school websites;
- Sit down today and make a list of things for which you’re thankful, and then review it at some point each day this season—and maybe even beyond; notice—did you include having a safe place to sleep? Clean water? The earth itself? Your body, your breath? The warm touch of a friend’s hand? The sweetness of the honey you’ve drizzled into your tea?);
- Invite your partner and/or children and/or a friend to make their own lists;
- Throughout the day, take note of things for which you are thankful—for example, if you are sitting in traffic, be thankful that you have transportation; if you’re on line at the grocery store, be thankful there is food to buy, that you are able to buy it, be thankful for the store staff for stocking the shelves, for bagging the groceries; be thankful for the body and breath that allow you to be at the grocery store at all;
- Begin a mindfulness of eating practice, and share it with your family or housemate(s), making a personal commitment to engage in this practice at least once a week (e.g., take a moment of quiet reflection once the meal is on the table, look at the food, smell the food, and give thanks for everything that made the meal possible, including the farmers, the sun, the rain, and the soil);
- Practice mindfulness-based yoga, incorporating postures such as supported Bridge Pose to open the heart, and, if your body can tolerate it, a Sun Salutation practice with mindfulness of breath, to invigorate the heart and the spirit;
- Explore practicing yoga with your children and/or your partner and/or a friend—you might give the gift of a ‘family yoga practice’ this season, or a ‘friendship practice’—talk to your local teacher about this;
- Notice—what might be preventing you from feeling thankful? A sense of entitlement? A sense of worthlessness? Or maybe it’s ‘the comparing mind’—that is, ‘oh, she has a nicer car than I do,’ or ‘his child is better at football than mine,’ or ‘if only I had nicer car/house/clothes, then I would be happy.’ Consciously note these habits of thinking, notice they are false beliefs, and review your gratitude list, knowing that with all of our flaws and challenges, we are always able to be present, to love and be loved;
- Remember to thank those with whom you come into contact each day—offering a smile, and genuine gratitude, practicing kindness in and kindness out; as the ancient Greek philosopher Philo said, ‘Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle;’
- Engage in selfless service (and this is not about some one-time seasonal ‘grand gesture,’ but about noticing how you might be of service to those around you in need, which might simply mean reaching out through a phone call or a visit to a neighbor or friend in difficulty, or shoveling snow for someone who can’t do it themselves, or helping an elderly person carry their packages at the grocery store or mall).
Consider cultivating health and happiness this holiday season as a conscious practice of mindfulness, of softening, opening, and acknowledging that gratitude is not dependent upon external circumstances—that we are all already perfect, just as we are. That we are able to live, breathe, and taste life, each and every moment. That we don’t need an additional trek to the big-box discount store for…more. And, finally, while we know that there is pain, that there is indeed suffering in this life, practicing gratitude (and the deep generosity that then often naturally follows) allows us to also rejoice in the existence of joy. This breath. This moment. The wonder of here and now. The wonder of each other. The miracle of simply being.
There is nothing inherently wrong with giving material things—during the holidays, or any other time; but, as Thich Nhat Hanh reminds us: the most precious gift we can give to others is our presence.
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