3| pausing amidst overwhelm
(originally written 21.05.24)This letter reflects over a longer timeframe; one where there have been many moments where I have learnt from both clay and body to feel into the transformative power of a pause...
Before reading this letter, take a moment - perhaps with your eyes closed - to listen to this short piece of music. And breathe…
I have felt the recurring waves of overwhelm over the past six weeks. They arrive forceful and demanding. There is no choice but to close my eyes and dive into the thick of the feeling. Allowing them to toss me about momentarily. I turn upside down. Water fills every cavity of my being leaving no room for perspective or logic. My breath is held, body contracted. And then, that same fierce body of water decides it wishes to reach the shore with grace. The calm bubbles that begin to arrive sweep my discombobulated self up. The water level sinks away and I am reunited with my breath. The grating sand begins to whisper the song of ‘mara’, but I’ve become used to the lyrics and they quickly become muffled by the distant call of the ibis. The more I attune to the ibis the closer she appears, swooping over head and landing close, staring into rhythm of the waves, the depth of their pause.
Could have the wave of overwhelm been calmed? The sea has a mind of her own doesn’t she? Yet at any time, in that same sea there is much vaster ocean of stillness and calm. Great depths of calms, full of an abundance of life and relationship. Had I sensed the momentum of the wave coming, could I have changed my own course through a simple decision to pause? Danced amongst the coral reef. Floated on my back and gazed at the turbulent water above from a distance.
And that is exactly what a pause creates. A subtle distance.
“Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom” ~ Viktor Frankel
So what is it that has been missing from my past six weeks? The pauses. Punctuation is not enough on its own! There have been plenty of ‘?’ and ‘!’ and ‘.’ But no page breaks!!!
Even if life is moving with a perceived richness, I can’t help but question the depth of that richness if it is not entangled with multiple pauses. I see this so much in Nairobi. The city is packed with interesting and creative minds. Constantly expressing. Collaborating. Building. Sensing. The air is filled with creative unrest, a tension awaiting thunder’s rumble. I’ve found this energy infectious. It is here that I too become the most creative version of myself that I have experienced and it’s a joy! Yet, with this I have created my overwhelm, created my low-level fatigue. Too many screens. Too many late bedtimes. Simply too many ‘too’s…
So, I turn to clay as my greatest teacher to listen to what she has got to say.
Clay needs rest. A creation can not become thus unless she sits for a while and dries. Her atoms stabilising, becoming acquainted to that they are next to. She simply would not become what she was intended to be if continuously worked into. There is a time to play and a time to let go, let be. But it is not just rest, it is deep rest. An elongated pause. The pre-emergence stage that rejoices before greatness unfurls. The stage that requires trust, patience and humility.
I have to trust that I have done my part in creating the conditions for greatness. Wedged away the air bubbles. Made sure of integrity in her walls. Released her from depending on the security of the bat. I have to be patient that it will be a matter of weeks until she is ready to face the world. And be humble enough to know that I am not her sole creator. Without the earth she could not be. Without the countless hands she has passed through until she arrived in the studio she would not be. Without the studio itself she would not be. Without the intensity of the kiln she would not be. Without all those who shaped my creativity she would not be. Without… Without… Without… Nothing is ever as it at first looks. It is always more complex, always more nuanced. Always more beautiful.
“The Fire” – Judy Brown
“… A fire
grows
simply because the space is there,
with openings
in which the flame
that knows just how it wants to burn
can find its way.”
And again, I turn to my body to see what she has to say. Are clay and body aligned?
My mind might be telling me to speed ahead with the multiple marvelous projects that are enticing me, but I can tell from the number of hours sleep being asked of me and the frequency of these forceful waves that there’s a wiser path to take. To find my way there I have been bringing my attention to the some of the places in my life where pauses take root:
In conversation: for as long as I can remember I have been hasty and eager to fill any pauses in conversations with those whom I don’t know well. I saw any prolonged silence as a reflection of me not being interesting enough or informed enough or good enough to be able to carry a conversation. Yet with my recent exploration of stillness and silence as attitudes, I have purposely not jumped to fill the void, curious to see what might emerge. Particularly with strangers!! I noticed that so long as I held the silence with confidence rather than awkwardness, a deeper sense of connection with the person emerged - a shared peacefulness, a shared opportunity to be observant of our surroundings and therefore aware of something bigger than ourselves. And, with this space, the next thing that the other has to say is often profound, or beautiful, or vulnerable, or completing…yet had I yabbered away filling the silence I would have likely never heard those words!!
“Real conversation has an unpredictability, danger, and resonance; it can take a turn anywhere and constantly borders on the unexpected and on the unknown. Real conversation is not a construct of the solitary ego; it creates community. So much of our modern talk is like a spider weaving a web of language maniacally outside itself. There is so little patience for the silence from which words emerge or for the silence that is between words and within them. When we forget or neglect this silence, we empty our world of its secret and subtle presences”. ~ John O'Donohue
As an attitude: there was an intriguing reframe in my mind when I considered stillness and silence as attitudes rather than an actions. A form of being verus doing. It came to me during one of the meditation sangha’s my dear friend Theresa and I have been holding in Nairobi, and then deepened when practicing ‘paschimottanasana’ which, at its very essence, exists to remind us that moving from doing to being is a simple as bending forward and resting. Silence and stillness do have to be things I choose to ‘do’, they can be a starting point for how I inititally show up in the world. Undercurrents that are quietly present and in motion.
During yoga: in the Hridaya style of yoga I practice and teach there is not just a recognition of pauses but a deliberate emphasis. Each asana is held for that same elongated time period. Enough time for the body and mind to become immobile. Enough time for effort to arise from within the layers of stillness. For an awareness of this effort and an awareness of this awareness. And from here, there is an unsurmountable depth.
Yet these days I’ve only felt the edges of that depth. The ping pong ball of distraction returns too eagerly. My opposition is too strong. What is being revealed? That the attic needs to be emptied. Space cleared. It is often not in the actual asana that I realise the fullness of my attic, but actually after I come out of the posture and bathe in its echoes. As I shift my attention to the places in my body where energy is accumulating I notice how distracted I had become, and how much more peaceful I feel when not entangled in thought. As though thought itself is a form of dukkha and the space in between the thoughts is where the sweet nectar can be foraged.
“Listen to the silence, it has so much to say” ~ Rumi
Between breaths: by paying attention to the depth of the momentary pause between my inhale and exhale I am able to rest in a sense of existence, of aliveness, of equilibrium. This is something quite new to me…I only relearnt how to breathe properly during my sabbatical. First helped by a fantastic practitioner in London, Chris, who showed me how to physically give my lungs more space by expanding my ribcage and consciously and conscientiously breath more deeply. And then taught about the perceived importance of breath for healing that different cultures across the globe hold in the (equally fantastic) book Breathe by James Nestor.
I quickly realised that the importance of breathing properly cannot be underestimated. It is a critical facet for our vitality. Without it our parasympathetic nervous system simply does not function and with this our most critical bodily processes don’t function fully either. I have first hand experience of this. The compression in my C1 and C2 continues to reduce the functionality of my vagus nerve. In the past this has contributed to actute kidney failure (I am fully recovered) and other central nervous system disregulation. It is wild; I had no idea of the connection between breath, vagus nerve and the body’s inner workings!
I find practicing a gentle five minutes of pranayama each morning to be incredibly helpful, setting the intention to breath mindfully throughout the day AND, of course, attuning to the Plum Village mindfulness bell!
Clay and body do seem to be aligned. Aligned that the sacred pause holds an unparalleled wisdom. Energetically, mentally and physically. From within a pause we can gain insights into why we might be feeling a certain way; we can step back to get perspective; respond rather than react; occupy a space of pre-emergence, ready - curious and open - for whatever might next unfurl without the need for our meddling!
Finally, let me leave you with a contemplation:
What if we acknowledged our collective sense of overwhelm? If we honour where we are at and nourish these same feelings can we be more compassionate to ourselves and to others? And, from a place of compassion move through the world and all its changes with greater grace?
And another short piece of music within which the contemplation can settle.
With an elongated pause!! Tash
x
What’s been sparking my curiosity?
Hearing: the teaching of Tara Brach on the Sacred Pause; this letter’s inspiration. And from here, hearing the silence as I’ve been practicing taking an attitude of stillness.
Seeing: the paradox of what water can do; it can bring a complete renewed vibrancy to foliage yet cause utter chaos and destruction to livelihoods at the same time…everything in life truly is about balance (please do consider donating to KDI for the relief and rebuild efforts).
Tasting: milk chocolate for the first time in forever, sickeningly sweet yet desperately addictive. Two things really can be true. Body said no, mind said yes. Why the disconnect? Why did the mind keep winning?
Smelling: an acacia thorn scattered ground post biblical rains over Lake Naivasha; somewhat musty as though the decaying ground had something to tell us.
Touching: never have I had such an attentive experience than that of a Myo Reformation treatment; a rhythmic strumming of every muscle in my body from pelvic floor to pharynx to peroneal. Electric shocks flowing through my arms and legs. An aliveness. My body lulling into an imaginal realm.
Feeling: an energetic connection as I am learning to feel what it is like as my nervous system regulates, I cant quite explain it yet, it is this remarkable sense of being in the body and feeling prana moving. And, there have also been profound experiences of co-regulation too during yoga, meditation and with the Myo practitioner.
