A Technique for Exercising Your Psychological Strength
A few weeks ago a friend of mine cancelled on me.
I’d been looking forward to meeting him for coffee, and catching up. At the last minute he said it had been a tough day and he didn’t think he’d be good company. Would it be alright if we didn’t get together after all?
There are at least two responses in this situation.
Option A: Though I was sad to not be seeing him, my response was, “Yes, of course. I’m sorry you had a bad day. No worries, and we’ll try again soon.”
Option B: The cancellation sent me into a spiral of questions and doubt. What did it mean that he cancelled on me? Why wait until the last minute to say he wasn’t coming? Wasn’t he looking forward to it too? Did he not value our friendship? And so on, and so on.
I’ll give you one guess as to which is the healthier response psychologically. (Spoiler alert: Option A.) And then I’ll give you one guess as to which response was informed by the practice of meditation.
You guessed it. Also Option A.
Here’s why: The meditation I’ve been practicing for the past few years is all about a reality check, in this moment right here. It’s a body scan, essentially, from the top of your head to your toes and back up again, over and over, one body part at a time. As your mind’s eye scans from your shoulder to your fingers, say, you start to notice little things, like where the skin of your wrist meets the fabric of the pants at your knee when you’re sitting cross-legged, or where the underside of your ankle rests against the cushion beneath you.
It isn’t about where you think your leg extends or your hips meet the seat. It’s about where they actually do. It isn’t about expecting an outcome; it’s about being the present tense.
That’s the reality check, and it’s firmly grounding in right here, in this moment. Practicing that, over and over, in 30 minutes of meditation each morning is training ground for curveballs later in the day. Like when a friend cancels a coffee date at the last minute.
With the practice of “reality check meditation,” and being in the habit of it, means I’m able to catch the situation exactly as it is in that moment, no more and no less. It’s a discrete event, and we move on.
Without the practice, I’m entangled in the mire of subtext and expectations, the past and the future, history and anticipation. Which isn’t “right here, right now” at all. The spiral begins, and it continues. The adrenal glands kick in. Feathers are ruffled.
Wouldn’t it be nice if there was another way?
“Reality check meditation,” as I’ve been calling it, is another way to respond to the curveballs. (The technique I practice is called Vipassana, though it shares intention and commonalities with plenty of other meditation techniques.) I’m not pretending that is a panacea or an answer to any and every difficult situation.
But it is one way to exercise psychological strength. It’s like exerting the muscles of staying in the present tense, and establishing the grooves of well-worn pathways for pausing, and noticing what is reality and what are expectations.
Maybe give it a try? You can do it for two minutes at your desk, or for five minutes on a quick walk, or for 30 minutes each morning or night. The point isn’t how long; the point is to try. I’ll be curious to hear if you see an impact in your responses too.
Namaste,
Cathy
PS At the end of this month I’ll be diving into a 10-day silent retreat at a Vipassana center in Jessup, Georgia, not so far from where I live in Atlanta. Thirty minutes a day is a typical, regular practice but ten days of Vipassana is pretty far down the rabbit hole, not gonna lie! I’ve done it once before, and I’ve been looking forward to this experience and planning for it for the past six months. Please let me know if you’d like to know more about the technique. I’d be happy to be a resource about it for this ABG community.