Mindfulness

Photo by Lyra Luu, Schalenbrunnen im Botanischen Garten, Munich, June 2023

I count 47 posts on this blog when I search ‘mindfulness.’ I talk about it almost every day with patients. Of all self-care practices I have acquired over the years, I think this is the most useful. Funny how I did not list it in the stress management post this month? Maybe because I see mindfulness as a way of being more than something I do? It really does bring me peace, for which I am both grateful and proud, as I have trained long to gain its benefits.

If you’re not yet familiar, I recommend starting at www.mindful.org. From their site:

“What is mindfulness?

“Mindfulness is the basic human ability to be fully present, aware of where we are and what we’re doing, and not overly reactive or overwhelmed by what’s going on around us.

“While mindfulness is something we all naturally possess, it’s more readily available to us when we practice on a daily basis.

“Whenever you bring awareness to what you’re directly experiencing via your senses, or to your state of mind via your thoughts and emotions, you’re being mindful. And there’s growing research showing that when you train your brain to be mindful, you’re actually remodeling the physical structure of your brain.”

Ok so, how do I already do mindfulness well?
–I have a strong informal practice. Often and at any given moment, I drop (or rise) easily into awareness of my environment, the people around me and their signals, and my own physical, mental, and emotional sensations. Even when it’s uncomfortable or painful, I can hold it loosely, with openness and curiosity. I wonder how many times a day I say or think, “Huh,” “What is up with that,” and “How fascinating”? This leads me often to novel questions, which I then express to others, engaging in unexpected ways, which is almost always more rewarding that I anticipate.
–My practice helps me be present to others as they need me. When I attend to what is, resisting the pull toward what I want or what I think should be, I can empathize, validate, and reflect with others, rather than go straight to problem solving, which is seldom what people want or need.
–Mindfulness makes me a more sensitive and agile speaker. As words and expressions form in my head and exit my mouth, I monitor their intent and impact in real time. I speak quickly and at times with sharpness and irreverence, but more often with kindness and passion, and rarely without thought to every word. Is that mindfulness or conscientiousness? Probably something mutually entwined?
–I lead by example. People say they feel peaceful around me, that I have a calming effect. I attribute this to my ability to be with whatever is, in the moment, without (or with minimal) judgment, together with others.

How could my mindfulness practice be better?
–I could establish a formal sitting practice. A daily session of breath and awareness, a mental discipline to quiet the monkey mind, to strengthen my parasympathetic nervous system, would likely make me healthier in all domains. I’m just not quite moved yet to commit. But maybe if it helps my writing…
–I could read more of the masters’ works: Jon Kabat-Zinn, Thich Naht Hanh, Sharon Salzberg, Pema Chodron. Then I’d be more knowledgeable, could maybe explain it better to people whom I think could benefit. ..and if it helps my writing…
–Overall I’m pretty satisfied with current state. I faced trials of the last several years with relative equanimity, and the challenges themselves strengthened my practice. I trust myself to know when I need to do more, because I’m mindful enough already to notice.

What’s already good about our collective mindfulness?

Awareness. John Kabat-Zinn developed Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) as a meditative therapy method for stress management in 1979. I learned nothing about it in medical school or residency. I’d say the first ten years of my career, mind-body medicine was still considered fringy; colleagues would stare blankly or even roll their eyes when I talked about it. Today mindfulness and other techniques of meditation and mind-body practices live in the mainstream, their benefits available to everybody, and fewer people feel self-conscious about participating.

Language. “Be with what is.” “Hold the space.” “Withhold judgment.” “Breathwork.” One could say that mindfulness lingo has infiltrated our general vernacular. Good. These concise phrases can moor us to a mindset of alert and relaxed presence, which makes us calmer, less impulsive, more attuned, and healthier. Words matter; the more we can use them for mutual de-escalation and connection, the better.

Connection. As mindfulness gains awareness and its expressions spread, fellow practitioners can connect more easily in any forum. They become magnets for yet others, and communities form around this attentive way of being which, nourished by strong ties, makes us better leaders by example wherever we go, to whomever we encounter. Jeez, I’m making it sound like a cult.

How could we do better together?

Teach Mindfulness In School. Mindfulness skills are life skills. Learning breath work, body awareness, and mental discipline in iterative, age appropriate ways prepares children and adolescents to tolerate and navigate an ever accelerating world of volatile change and chaos. It would be easy to incorporate skills practice into play, sports, and academics at all stages of brain and social development.

Incorporate Mindfulness Into Leadership Training. Thinking of leaders you admire, what qualities and behaviors make them great? Mine give me their full attention, make me feel seen, heard, and understood. They emote relatably, easily, and appropriately, and also carry themselves with steady, unflappable confidence. They name what is with clarity, desireable and/or not, and hold it peacefully while working consistently for change and improvement. They are honest. Thus they attract and inspire followers rather than coercing them. Healthy mindfulness skills and practice amplify and maximize relational leadership strengths by grounding leaders in self-awareness and self-regulation as foundation for outward action.

Just writing about mindfulness lowers my respiratory rate and helps me attune to myself and my surroundings better. I feel gratitude and peace, confident in my ability to face and manage whatever comes around the corner, satisfied that I have lived the present moment to its fullest. I have very little to regret if I can keep this up.

Stress Management

Anybody else feel daunted thinking about stress managment lately? [wide eyed emoji]

It’s November of the hardest year in my recent professional memory, and the escalating stress levels I witness every day show no signs of abating. My patients are sleeping poorly, gaining weight, and their blood pressure continues to rise. They miss quality time with loved ones and rethink their life paths more seriously now than ever. Strangers on the street seem increasingly confrontational. The world is once again embroiled in war and violence. Our stress management skills are called forth, no question.

I attended the second ever Harvard Medical School coaching conference in the spring of 2009, where I met Benjamin Zander and The Art of Possibility became my personal development bible. Roz Zander, co-author, former wife, and decades long collaborator to Ben Zander, died suddenly this year. I hope my writing and impact may honor her, as these 14 years of my inner and outer work, sparked by the Zanders at that meeting, made me a better person that I would otherwise have been, founded on the practices in their book.

**Deep breath**

It’s been at least a decade, and I still ask patients to assess work stress in terms of threat and challenge. Threat stress–basically fight or flight–is physiologically taxing, meant to last seconds (not years), and costs us our health if prolonged. Challenge stress is activating, productive, and beneficial. I also query about personal fulfillment from work–meaning. We can tolerate very high levels of stress, even prolonged threat, if it’s worth it to us.

Parenting may be a better example than work. When we fear for our children’s well being, and even their lives in crises, how do we manage that? Is there any worse threat? We’d all rather it be ourselves suffering than our kids, right? How do we cope when we have no control?

At the risk of sounding arrogant, I feel very confident in my stress management skills. This is not to say I don’t experience severe stress or feel its consequences. I just move through it much more easily and with a lot less suffering now than in the past. I feel a lot less threat than challenge. Briefly, the practices:
Breathe. Ever since my first medical assistant posted “TAKE A DEEP BREATH” at my workspace, I have appreciated the calming effect of one deep breath, physically and psychologically. We can breathe ourselves through childbirth, injury, emotional trauma, and myriad other urgent and emergent situations. Deep breathing stimulates the de-escalating parasympathetic (rest and digest) nervous system, balancing the autonomic hijack mediated by the sympathetic system. I breathe along with patients when I listen to their lungs. I inhale deeply when listening to books, and during strenuous exercise. It is my central grounding practice.
Accept. “It is what it is.” This has nothing to do with how I feel about it. But the sooner I separate what is from what I want it to be, the less I suffer. Obviously I find this much easier to do for things I care less about. But even for big things, like the state of our healthcare system, the brokenness of our government, and my estimate of the ultimate demise of humanity (I think five more generations, give or take), just being with what is, as a first step to figuring out what to do next, helps me suffer a lot less.
Withhold judgment. I’m really good now at not jumping to conclusions and not making sweeping judgments about people based on limited information. I am able to separate judgment of actions from people’s character and humanity. If you’re screaming at my team and me, you are clearly unwell. We can hold you accountable to your actions and still show you compassion and respect. I don’t have to think you’re a bad person. This way, I don’t take your negative actions personally, and I can stay calm and even.
Get help. I ask every patient every year about their emotional support network, because it matters. Mine is phenomenal and I could not be more grateful. But I only know they are so because I call on them enough and they on me. Rarely I am disappointed, and I learn to turn elsewhere. I cannot overstate the profound importance of tribe and connection. It is my raison d’etre.
Move. When daughter was admitted to the hospital and I stayed with her there, I made sure to get on the ellipitical each day that week. When I go too many days without movement, I get edgy and stuck in my thoughts. My stress is exponentially more manageable if I protect my workouts, which I have now done for many years.
Attune and differentiate. My greatest stressors involve other people. Friction, tension, grating, colliding, etc. Since my LOH leadership training helped me articulate these complementary concepts, I recognize now that attuning/aligning with others, as well as differentiating and standing firm in my own core values and practices are equally important and fluid in their dynamics. Feeling out that optimal integration in any given interaction is rewarding in itself, and the outcomes are always better when I attend to both, knowing that I am showing up true to myself. What more can I ask of me?

So what could be better? Anything, really. For the rest of my life, new stressors will continually emerge. In his book Master of Change, Brad Stulberg quotes a statistic that in an average adult life, we will experience 34 major disruption events, which works out to about one every 18 months. Sounds about right to me! So I can expect to be challenged and trained in all of these skills and more, usque ad mortem. I only hope I can keep learning, applying, improving, and growing. Bring it.

I feel less harshly about our collective, societal stress management skills and outcomes than I do about our obessions and ironies with exercise and nutrition. Really, I think everybody’s doing the best they can, with the skills they have, in the circumstances of their lives at any given time. I just wish our environments didn’t create and perpetuate so many of our stressors in the first place.

So what’s already good?
Potential. We are all surrounded by one another. So every encounter, any time, any place, is an opportunity to do people-ing better. In any given relationship, if anyone is willing at all, there is always the chance for repair after rupture. Humans are innate learners; we can continually acquire the skills to stop impaling ourselves with the second arrow of suffering, after the arrows of pain hit us in daily life. We can even hold one another up and heal our injuries together.
Books, teachers, resources. Those aisles and shelves of stress management books really are dense, and I can say with conviction from first hand consumption that the knowledge and potential benefit living in those pages is immense. For those with the bandwidth to actively seek, consume, digest, and apply, lives can be transformed, especially if shared, discussed, and practiced together.
–Sometimes it really doesn’t take much. Your friend calls to check on you. A stranger helpsy you carry your groceries. When we say ‘it’s the little things,’ we speak truth. Small acts of kindness and incidental connections will not solve our hardest problems, but we must not underestimate their profound potential to help, and for that help to amplify in unexpectedly large ways. What’s more, both the helper and the helped benefit from the encounter.

What could be better?
–Teach it explicitly. There is a movement afoot among Dialectical Behavior (T)herapists to formally incorporate stress management skills into school curriculum. DBT organizes life skills around four central pillars: Mindfulness, Emotional Regulation, Distress Tolerance, and Interpersonal Effectiveness. Within each module are sets of practices, many with campy acronyms to help us remember. I refer patients to the DBT skills website often, not just to help them cope better themselves, but to help them model better coping skills to their children, direct reports, and leaders. Simply having the confidence that we can handle whatever comes our way, because we know what to do, decreases stress exponentially. What if we learn these skills in childhood, before the chaos of adolescence and serial tumult that is adulting? Can you imagine?
–Relational Leadership Training and Valuation. Leadership done well is a practice in empathic, compassionate, accountable, and transparent stewardship. It is a way of being and doing, one that requires high level self-awareness and self-regulation, and excellent attunement and communication skills. Right now I think leadership training focuses a lot on transactional communication, superficial team dynamics, and not enough on building leaders’ stewardship mindset and deeper relational skills. We should require evidence of these skills for promotion and provide communal support and feedback to strengthen their practice. This would reduce overall stress in organizations by building cultures of empathy, compassion, accountability, and transparency from the top. Workers’ stress, in my observation, stems in large part from toxic cultures set by relationally inept leaders.

So, another plot twist, but maybe not really. My solution to stress management optimization is relationship-centered: first relationship with self, then between self and others, and then between/among those who know us, by way of example setting.

Stress is complex. Its optimal management is a lifelong practice. It’s never too late to start, and no skills practice is too small or wasted.

“The only way out is through. The best way through is together.” I think that applies here.

Acceptance Is Not Always Joyous, Turns Out

*Cosmic laughter* and some tears… HOW FASCINATING!

I wrote my last post on the liberation of acceptance in a state of sincere joy and revelation; I still stand by the whole piece. And, the last ten days have humbled me with my own premise. I have struggled for a good 20 years to negotiate, reconcile, and yes, accept, certain hard realities in my life. Looking back, I’ve come a long way, suffering much less now from self-induced frustration and rage than at the turn of the millenium. Ten days ago I honestly thought I had come to that joyous place of whole-hearted acceptance and creativity, looking ahead and feeling ready to charge forward and invent my new way of being and doing.

And I was ready–in my thinking mind. This happens sometimes, that I understand a concept in my newly evolved, analytical brain, express it eloquently in words, and think I’m done (see ‘self-delusion’ in the last post). I can observe patterns and understand logically that certain things will not change. I can create strategies to suffer less by changing my rational expectations. I can plan to take alternative action in the future when I encounter typical and recurrent friction. I can think my way to practical solutions and cognitive peace.

I don’t realize the gap. Then my feeling mind catches up and catches me off guard, knocking me on my ass for a while. Turns out acceptance occurs in layers.

“When I accept the thing, I can put it down, let it be.” Writing this, I had forgotten that while carrying the intellectual burden of the thing I don’t accept, I hold with it an unrealistic hope, an emotional investment, in the thing being other than it is. The latter is not rational; it’s qualitative, limbic, and drives my thoughts and behavior from a place that has no capacity for language. So when I truly, honestly put the thing down, I experience a deep and ineffable sense of grief at letting go–abandoning–my sentimental hope and investment, unrealistic as they were.

I even wrote about it! “Anger, jealousy, self-loathing, grief, sadness, conflict, …: Allow it.” This is where the cosmic laughter chortles now–allowing grief and sadness means feeling them, DUH! Seriously, is avoidance of that discomfort the basis for all of my non-acceptance this whole time? I’m not sure, but even if it is, I don’t judge myself for it. Discomfort aversion is a fundamental survival reflex, the impulse for which originates in deeper, even more primitive parts of the brain than the limbic system. And I imagine that the epiphany I describe in this post is still nowhere near the last stop on my train ride of self-discovery and -education. It’s an important waystation, though.

This past week I hunckered down, allowing the grief and sadness more openly, with more vulnerability. It felt like wallowing for a bit, if I’m honest. I journaled rivers of ink, forsaking my intended blogging schedule. I did a lot of escape and comfort reading (YAY, smutty romance!). I attended to the hard feelings gently, embracing them (at times as if I were hugging a cactus, but still). And it helped. The sadness and discomfort dissipated, and I soon felt lightness and relief, if not quite joy, on this side of it.

I sense now a slow shift, a reorientation. I am able today, at least partially, to show up differently to my reality, which feels new and different from even two weeks ago: less heavy, more fluid and flexible. I carry fewer rocks in my emotional rucksack now; made a cairn with them these last days. And yeah, I can feel some joy coming on.