Tuesday, September 15, 2020

Integration of Opposing Forces

 Elegant thinking involves an intense focus on the most significant, most impactful, most insightful elements within complexity. Metaphorically, separating the chaff from the grain, cutting through the static, putting first things first. What nuance may be lost is more than made up for by the power of focus. 

On the other hand, contextual thinking involves a deep unearthing of the interconnected whole. Metaphorically, seeing the forest for the trees, seeing the effect of a butterfly's wings. What straight-forwardness may be lost is more than made up for by the power of the analysis. 

Both ways of thinking can fall prey to an either/or approach, which is dangerous. Either you focus on the most important things, or you are lost in the details. Either you understand the depth of connection, or you oversimplify the situation. 

A different approach is to see these ways of thinking as opposing forces that can be simultaneously integrated. Metaphorically, I think of a mountain pose in yoga. For the non-yogis out there, mountain pose could also be called "just standing there with arms at your side." In mountain pose, the yogi maintains an upward uplifting energy while simultaneously maintaining a downward grounding energy, embodied through simultaneously contracting and releasing certain muscles. At its best, it is not an either/or pose, but an integration of opposing forces, an exercise in both/and. Or, think of the integration of opposing gravitational forces between the earth and sun. There is simultaneously an inward and an outward force, keeping the earth in the sun's orbit and keeping me from flying into the sun when I walk outside. 

 The elegant contextual point being: integrate opposing forces, hold practice and theory in tension, hold vision and emergence in tension, hold structure and spontaneity in tension, hold decisive thinking and contemplative thinking in tension, move forward in mindful action. 


Wednesday, September 9, 2020

The Pandemic, Part II

Living within a pandemic the past six months provides much to think and write about. Maybe some day I will have the time to do so, after the pandemic subsides, whenever that may come to pass. This too shall pass. Nothing lasts forever. 

For now, it is sufficient to say that the pandemic has many malicious symptoms: physical suffering, financial free fall, mental anguish, complete upending of "normal"...all disproportionately impacting the most marginalized in our society. 

At the moment, I have emerged relatively unscathed. I am not physically ill, I have a job, I have sick leave, I have health care, I have a safe place to live, I have savings to get me through, I have supportive people, I have technology, I can work flexibly from the safety of my home, I have all the power and privileges afforded to me. 

My struggle, which has felt very intense and challenging nonetheless, is the stress and strain of parenting young children through a pandemic, trying to balance professional work and domestic responsibilities while teaching kindergarten online and enduring the tirades of a three year old. I have lost it far too many times, suffered feelings of incompetence and guilt, lost sleep, worried about the future, worried about the now, felt anxious, felt depressed, felt stressed, felt like there was no end in sight, felt jealous of all the people who do not have kids, felt bad for wishing I did not have kids, felt depressed, felt sad, felt stressed, lost it again. All in all, a very humbling experience as a parent. If I thought I was a good parent before the pandemic, then the challenges of the pandemic have brutally revealed all the opportunities I have to do better. 

It has not been all bad. Sometimes I have done okay. The children seem to be doing fine. They are alive and usually happy. I think they are going to come out of this alright. 

Through it all I have leaned on my yoga/meditation practice to get me through. One technique that I have found helpful goes a little something like this: 

--

I notice something negative welling up inside of me (or spewing out of me)

I pause and breathe

I intentionally release any momentary thinking and feeling that is unhelpful. 

  • In any given moment, unhelpful thinking and feeling may include: projecting my anger or frustration onto others, sweating the small stuff, ruminating over the unchangeable past, imagining all sorts of terrifying futures, struggling to assert control over things completely beyond my control, judging how things "should" be or "should" have been, holding myself and others to accountable to impossible standards, falling prey to knee-jerk reactive responses, racing headlong to the next thing while trying to do the current thing, et cetera et cetera et cetera. 

I intentionally return to enduring thinking and feel that reflects how I want to be in the world. 

  • In any given moment, reflective thinking and feeling may include: listening to strong emotions but not being ruled by them, getting my head out of the clouds and being present to the person or task right before me, ceasing fixation on how things "should" be and operating within how things are while focusing on how things could be, noticing choices and responses that are within my control, holding empathy and compassion for myself and others, focusing on progress instead of shortcomings, seeing the best in myself and others, balancing "doing" with "being", choosing curiosity over judgment in face of difference, recognizing small steps I can take right here right now to lift up what is bright in the world, being gentle and graceful, et cetera et cetera et cetera.

--

For me, this very simple in-the-moment technique takes all of 10 seconds. Usually I release just one thing and return to just one other, and that is sufficient to hit a big reset button somewhere inside my brain. Usually, a visceral feeling of calm washes over me, kind of like the feeling of stepping out into the warm sunshine on a cool autumn day. It does not solve any of the challenges that I face, nor does it wish them away. Rather, it is like a half-time pep talk for my soul. "This is hard. How do you want to be? How do you want to feel? Then get out there and show up."