Park Slope Reader

Mindfulness

Sky Transmissions: Astrological Wisdom for Venus Retrograde

By Filed Under: Mindfulness


“There ain’t no answer. There ain’t gonna be any answer. There never has been an answer. That’s the answer.”
— Gertrude Stein
Astrology is a powerful tool for predicting major life events and choosing when to take action. Thinking about romance? Applying for a new job? There’s a right time for all those things, and Astrology can help you find it. That, however, is not our task at the moment. To get to the details, we must first comprehend the bigger picture. 
Astrology can be defined as the correlation between celestial and terrestrial events. Which is to say, we look to the sky to see what will happen on Earth.
As I look to the sky, I see Venus, planet of love & beauty & passions, wistfully stretching her arms across the Moon’s home of Cancer. This is a soft place where one encounters topics of nourishment and safety. Soon she will awake into Leo, visible, home of the Sun, courageous, heart forward. Think of this transition from Cancer into Leo has Venus straight out of the bathtub and onto the center of the disco.
Exciting for some of us, jarring for others—especially those who’d rather hide from the spotlight. None of this is remarkable. Venus makes her way through all 12 signs of the Zodiac approximately once a year. What makes her  ingress into Leo noteworthy, is that it’s where she stations retrograde. 
You’ve heard of Mercury Retrograde? It’s like that: Venus  stops in the sky and then appears to circle backwards. Just like Mercury, she tends to stir up all sorts of drama on the backstroke. Except where Mercury brings up issues of communication, Venus highlights issues of the heart.. 
Working with Venus RxFrom an astronomical perspective, the retrograde period is a time when Venus disappears, comes closest to the Earth, and changes from morning to evening rise. At the midpoint, she will have been cleansed in the heart of the Sun — a process Astrologer’s call cazimi. 
This  turning backwards signifies a time of  renewal and contemplation.  Just as Venus ends one cycle to begin again, we are asked to do the same. 
While this Retrograde is going to pick up different stories for each of us, there are some universal themes: our relationships may be tested; our creative projects may be scrutinized; we may be asked to pick up an old project we’ve left behind. Many of us will connect with old loves and friends. Some of us will get terrible haircuts. 
This is a time of reflection, integration and release. If I can offer any wisdom regarding the season ahead, it’s this: explore those desires with distance and wait to take action until Venus is direct. In the light of morning, you may see things differently. 
Think of the following as an assortment of polished rocks to keep in your metaphorical pocket. Take one out now and then and roll it around nine your mind. May they be a source of contemplation and comfort. 
Read for your Rising Sun. If you don’t know your Rising Sign, read for your Sun Sign. If you’re feeling moved, read all 12 and let your intuition decide what resonates. 
DATES TO NOTEVenus Enters Leo: June 5, 2020Venus Stations Retrograde: July 22, 2023Venus Stations Direct: Sept 4, 2023

ARIES: Sometimes the most productive action one can take is to stop. When you find yourself frustrated or blocked with a situation—a human entanglement or creative endeavor—step aside. For an hour. Or a day. The answers will present themselves as answers do: when they’re ready. TAURUS: When we change, our relationships change. Friends. Partners. Mother. Father. Siblings. We may not always get to choose where we live or who surrounds us, but we get to choose how we relate to others and the spaces we inhabit. Where is home? What feels like home? Are you there? 
GEMINIWho supports you?  In the space  between questions, do you ever stop to contemplate the answers? Or simply stop to listen to what the other person has to say. Perhaps it’s the speaking that’s the struggle? Who makes you feel heard? Identify those relationships and nourish them—even if only seeds.

CANCER: The future may bring some extra cash. Retractions are also to be expected. What’s the source of your sustenance and its toll? What do you need to sustain the life you’re called to live? If not the one you imagine. 
LEO: Hold on. You may be tempted to jump ahead here. Summer tugging at your soul. The pull of being seen. Not yet. This is a time of contraction and expansion. A time to open yourself up and see what you’re made of. Metaphorically. Physically. You will be tested. 
VIRGO: The voices in your head don’t always know what they’re talking about. They rarely do. Nor do they always have your best interest. Are you listening to your body? How does it feel in your gut? Heavy in your chest? A long, blue ribbon pulled from your throat. Keep pulling. 
LIBRA: Imagine this: you’re on a  seesaw. Remember those? You on one end. All your friends on the other end.  It’s been forever, this back and forth and forth again. You’re dizzy. Nauseous. You jump off. Your friends are thrown in all directions. 
SCORPIO: You’ve slayed the dragon. Collected the golden fleece. Let your imagination go where it may. So close to home, and now you’re asked to sacrifice your one true love. Ok. That’s an exaggeration, but you might seriously question what you’re doing with your life and who you’re spending it with. 
SAGITTARIUS: Do you have fantasies about selling all your possessions to join an anarchist collective in the South of France, where you live on a yurt and raise ducks? Hold that thought. And then hold it a little longer. 
CAPRICORN: I have a friend who says her sense of well being depends on understanding how the world works. Even if she’s wrong. It’s the perception of dominance that soothes her. I disagree. There’s a freedom in letting go, in facing the fact that you inhabit a world filled with creatures and events that are completely out of your control. 
Trying to grip harder only hurts your hands. 
AQUARIUS: Have you ever found yourself drawn to someone who’s so different from you that, somewhere deep down, you want to live through them? Maybe they exude a boldness and confidence that seems downright alien. Perhaps it’s a certain joy that’s infectious to be around. 
I want you to take on that costume and wear it for a day.  
PISCES: You’re going to make yourself sick. I get so upset when people tell me that. Partly because I know they’re right, and partly because they’re reinforcing a pattern of blaming the victim. This is a longer conversation. For now, remember this: your thoughts have power. Consider how you use them.

Best of Summer: Brooklyn Mama Mindfulness (2018)

By Filed Under: Mindfulness Tagged With: ,

It always begins the same way. I wake up with a plan. Perhaps, this is my mistake. After all, is there such a thing as “planning” when you have a toddler? Is there such a thing as “mindfulness”? I didn’t think so.

Not when my daughter ripped off her diaper and ran around the apartment yelling “Elmo! Elmo! Elmoooooo!” I definitely didn’t believe in mindfulness when I found a sock in the toilet, a raw egg from the fridge cracked over my desk and a piece of chewing gum on the back of my pants (that last one was totally my fault). I only first began to believe in mindfulness when I lost my temper at a coffee shop in Windsor Terrace.

Mistake #1 I brought my hungry two and a half year old daughter to a coffee shop in Windsor Terrace, right near a park where we usually like to play. 

Mistake #2 I did not take her to the park where we usually like to play. Instead, I wanted to have a picturesque Brooklyn coffee. 

Mistake #3 I also had not eaten. 

Mistake #4 I had gone to bed too late the night before.

Hunger, sleep deprivation and the need to plan a day can take its toll on any mother. But, there is something about being a hip Brooklyn mama that triggers all kinds of high expectations.

For example, we still want to be cool. We want our kids to grow up in a creative, culturally diverse setting. We want them to know about math, science, writing, and how these subjects often spark a revolution. Many of us believe in the public school system. We believe that these things will set them out on a path to greatness. We believe that Lou Reed, Lena Horne, Joan Rivers, and Jay-Z, all Brooklynites, are part of our children’s genetic makeup. Well, at least their neighborhood makeup. We also want them to have extraordinary upbringings. They should learn how to cross the street, ride their bikes safely along Prospect Park, window shop on Seventh Avenue in Park Slope, yet be experimental enough to try brunch with us at the hottest new restaurant in Cobble Hill. And sometimes, when we think about all of these things when we think about how to get from the Carroll Gardens playground to the new bookstore on Smith Street and still get back home in time for lunch, a nap, a snack, and a cuddle…we lose it. We lose our tempers.

This is what happened to me, anyway.

My two and a half-year-old did not want to sit at the café’s quaint table. She did not want to color with the Ziploc bag of broken crayons I had brought along. She did not want to look at pictures on my phone. I knew it was bad when she didn’t even want a vanilla Donut Factory donut. At the last second, when the tantrum was in full view of everyone trying to concentrate on their laptops, as my coffee spilled across the table and onto the floor, when I could feel that the room and everyone in it was holding their breath, I yelled. “Stop it!” I snapped, “just stop it right now!” 

Often, I think that as mothers we hold so much inside of ourselves that when the time comes, and we actually allow ourselves to break, we’re like a steam pipe that releases an explosion of hot air into the atmosphere. Yet, we don’t feel better after the air is released, we feel horrified. It’s like, how could we have lost control? Who do we think we are, human beings!?! If we are mothers who work, our guilt is magnified.

We ask ourselves, how, when we have one free afternoon with our precious child, could we have lost our temper? Some of us have two children, or three. Some of us have nannies and some of us can’t afford the help. Whatever it is we have or don’t have, we are raising little people. People who will one day run for office, or build bridges, little people who will write books and hopefully not include the parts about their mothers bringing them to trendy coffee shops while losing their minds. 

Here’s what happened: I started to cry. Right there, in full view of the laptop convention, I burst into tears. The young girl behind the counter who looked like a 90’s supermodel with a shirt quoting Beyoncé that read, “I Woke Up Like This” bent down to help me clean up the spill. Her youth and beauty made me feel worn out and tired. When she bent over I could see her perfect breasts and thought of my own sagging ones. If her breasts had a voice they would say, “Hi I’m Linda and I’m Shirley, nice to finally meet you!” My breasts seem to say, “I’m Rita and this is Bob now leave me the hell alone.” If my breasts could smoke a pack of Camels, they would. My daughter touched my face with her pudgy hand and whispered, “Sorry Mommy, sorry.” Oof. 

So, yeah…mindfulness. That day my daughter and I skipped our visit to the public library free reading time series. We went home and ate cookies. We played with all of the dolls on the toy shelf and we put magnets on the fridge. We sang songs. We filled the tub with toy ducks. In those moments I realized I was living in the moment. There was no plan, no “oh, we should do this next.” That’s part of mindfulness and maybe that’s the hardest part of it: the ability to let go. Mindfulness is a superpower. It allows us to thrust ourselves into the full living moment without aggression or anger.

Mindfulness is a state of awareness. It is the ability to bring the breath back to the present moment. Having a plan is ok. Often, as a Brooklyn Mama, we need to have a plan. We live in busy, bustling neighborhoods. But, maybe that plan can be more flexible, and if it can’t be maybe our own minds can. 

If I had tuned into myself and been mindful the day of the coffee shop disaster, I would have taken a moment to find my breath.  I would have looked around and seen the situation. Then I would have understood that although I was a part of that situation, I still have the ability to look at the each moment from a third eye perspective. This idea will not stop my daughter from throwing a tantrum. It will not stop people from staring. The coffee is still spilled; the crayons are still broken. But with mindfulness the day is not ruined, instead it is steeped in possibility.

My daughter is throwing a tantrum. She is frustrated. I am exhausted. I feel that exhaustion. It’s ok to feel this way. It’s ok for my daughter to feel this way. Breathe. This is the moment. This is what’s happening in the moment right now. I want to cry. I feel so tired I want to cry. Feel this exhaustion. Breathe. Let’s pack up our things slowly, mindfully. Let’s put our bags back on the stroller. Let’s help the young woman cleaning up our own mess. Let’s do this mindfully. Look, she’s wearing a Beyoncé shirt. Breathe. Look, her breasts are perfect and mine are weary. “Sorry, Mommy, sorry.” I fed you with these breasts and they look like this because of love. My hair is a quiet tornado. I should have brushed it. Breathe. We are here, in Brooklyn, in a coffee shop, at a table, getting ready to go home. We are sleepy, cranky, overstrained, overburdened. We are fully aware. We are absolutely alive.

The Winter Solstice: Blessings of the Returning Light

By Filed Under: Mindfulness Tagged With:

The days and hours leading up to the Winter Solstice are the darkest of the year. True, the days following the solstice are just as dark, but the energy is different. After the solstice, the dark gets a tiny bit lighter each day as the world as we know it on the Northern Hemisphere turns toward spring. But now, pre-solstice, we are spinning further and further into the dark. And it’s damn dark out there.

[pullquote]The Winter Solstice is an anniversary celebration of creation. Since the earliest of human times, it has been both natural and necessary for folks to join together in the warmth and glow of community in order to welcome the return of light to a world that is surrounded by dark. And through the imitative gesture of lighting fires, like so many solar birthday candles, we do our annual part to rekindle the spirit of hope in our hearts.[/pullquote]The days have shriveled to a skeleton flicker of light. The frozen nights are endless. These are dim, drab times. No flowers, no foliage. No insects, few birds. No animals out and about. The Earth Herself is congealed with cold. Dark death and Arctic gloom surrounds us. How do we know that the sun, too, won’t die, its flame of life extinguished forever? How do we know that it won’t just go off and leave us, abandon us to the night?

Wrapped in the dark womb of the weather, it is not difficult to imagine the terrifying prospect of the permanent demise of the sun and the consequent loss of light, the loss of heat. The loss of life. Without the comfort of the familiar cyclical pattern, the approach of each winter with its attendant chiaroscuro would be agonizing. The tension intensified by the chill.

With the death of the sun, the world would be cast back to the state that it occupied before creation, the classical concept of chaos. The black void. The Great Uterine Darkness. It is from this elemental ether that the old creatrix goddesses are said to have brought forth all that is. This sacred spark of creative potential that is contained within the primordial womb is one of humanity’s oldest concepts. The visual symbol, which represents it, a dot enclosed within the circle, is also extremely ancient. Still in common use today, it is the astronomical notation for the sun.

Among the most archaic images of the sun is the brilliant radiance that clothes the Great Goddess. The great Mother of the pre-Islamic peoples of Southern Arabia was the sun, Atthar, or Al-Ilat (later to become Allah). In Mesopotamia, She was called Arinna, Queen of Heaven. The Vikings named Her Sol, the old Germanic tribes, Sunna, the Celts, Sul or Sulis. The Goddess Sun was known among the societies of Siberia and North America.

She is Sun Sister to the Inuit, Sun Woman to the Australian Arunta, Akewa to the Toba of Argentina The sun has retained its archaic feminine gender in Northern Europe and Arab nations as well as in Japan. To this day, members of the Japanese royal family trace their shining descent to Amaterasu Omikami, the Heaven Illuminating Goddess.

According to legend, Amaterasu withdrew into a cave to hide from the irritating antics of Her bothersome brother, Susu-wo-no, the Storm God. Her action plunged the world into darkness and the people panicked. They begged, beseeched, implored the Sun Goddess to come back, but to no avail. At last, on the Winter Solstice, Alarming Woman, a sacred clown, succeeded in charming, teasing and finally yanking Her out, as if from an earthy birth canal, and reinstating on Her rightful celestial throne.

Other cultures see the Goddess not as the sun Herself, but as the mother of the sun. The bringer forth, the protector and controller, the guiding light of the sun and its cycles. According to Maori myth, the sun dies each night and returns to the cave/womb of the deep to bathe in the maternal uterine waters of life from which he is re-born each morning. The Hindu Fire God, Agni, is described as “He who swells in the mother.”

It is on the Winter Solstice, the day when the light begins to lengthen and re-gain power that the archetypal Great Mother gave birth to the sun who is Her son. The great Egyptian Mother Goddess, Isis, gave birth to Her son Horus, the Sun God, on the Winter Solstice. On the same day, Leta gave birth to the bright, shining Apollo and Demeter, and the Great Mother Earth Goddess, bore Dionysus. The shortest day was also the birthday of the Invincible Sun in Rome, Dies Natalis Invictis Solis, as well as that of Mithra, the Persian god of light and guardian against evil.

Christ, too, is a luminous son, the latest descendant of the ancient matriarchal mystery of the nativity of the sun/son. Since the gospel does not mention the exact date of His birth, it was not celebrated by the early church. It seems clear that when the church, in the fourth century AD, adopted December 25 as His birthday, it was in order to transfer the heathen devotions honoring the birth of the sun to Him who was called “the sun of righteousness.”

The return of the retreating sun, which retrieves us from the dark of night, the pitch of winter, is a microcosmic recreation of the origination of the universe, the first birth of the sun. The Winter Solstice is an anniversary celebration of creation. Since the earliest of human times, it has been both natural and necessary for folks to join together in the warmth and glow of community in order to welcome the return of light to a world that is surrounded by dark. And through the imitative gesture of lighting fires, like so many solar birthday candles, we do our annual part to rekindle the spirit of hope in our hearts.

 

Oh Sun, source of light, love and

power in the universe

Whose radiance illuminates the whole Earth,

illuminate also our hearts

That they, too may do your work

 

— Sanskrit prayer for peace

 

 

 43rd Annual Winter Soulstice Celebration

with Mama Donna, Urban Shaman

 Part One

Wednesday, December 20th

 Event Begins 11:00 PM

 The Moment of Truth  11:28 PM

 Standing in the Shadows on the Longest Darkest Night of the Year. 

Calling out the dark. Looking at it face to face.  

Naming it. Claiming it. Feeling it. Understanding it.

Part Two

Thursday, December 21st

 Event Begins 11:00 AM

Solstice Moment 11:28 AM    

Lighting the Fire at the Solstice Hour Bringing back the light.

 Re-igniting the fire in our hearts.  

Owning it. Pledging it. Manifesting it. Being it.

Grand Army Plaza  at Bailey Fountain  

Park Slope, Exotic Brooklyn, NY  

Free!   

For info: 718-857-1343 cityshaman@aol.com

Knowing I Have a Body – The Art of Being Present

By Filed Under: Mindfulness Tagged With: , ,

I was standing on the curbside under an old pomegranate tree in front of my therapy office, delighting in the smell of Fall and the hint of chill in the air as my colleague spoke intently about a new concept he had about what motivates interpersonal behavior. 

“I’m not who you think I am,” he said, moving so he stood directly in front of me, entreating me to look him in the eyes, “I’m not even who I think I am.” He raised his eyebrows to emphasize this important new discovery, index finger pointing to his chest. “I’m who I think you think I am,” he said, triumphantly stepping back off the curb and pausing to let that sink in.

Wow… It sounded cool, but what did it mean? I saw my mind immediately grasping to possess the unfamiliar. I shifted my body’s weight from left foot to right and remembered that I have a body… I …am… I saw my mind reach to fill in the blank; I am what?… simple… I am. Even as those words formed in my mind, I experienced body standing, relaxed weight, exhaling. I experienced looking at my colleague as he continued speaking, sun on my face, hearing the sound of his voice, birds in the tree above me, swish of air, passing car, and the posture of my body as I leaned slightly forward, listening over the traffic…nothing was separate, all included… I am present, in this moment.

For the past 26 years, I have worked as a mental health and substance abuse treatment counselor, and am currently a private practice somatic-psychotherapist. It is my life’s work, my calling. Until last year I worked directing a public co-occurring mental health and substance abuse treatment facility in the East Bay area, as a clinician and supervisor, training therapists and counselors.  When I left to begin my private practice, two things I knew for certain:

1. The most potent, curative factor in the therapeutic relationship regardless of theoretical orientation or modality is the relationship between the client and the practitioner.

2. The relationship I have with my clients is the direct result of my relationship with myself. Truthfully I cannot offer something to someone else that I do not have myself.

In 1996, as the result of a spinal injury, I had the great fortune to be introduced to BREEMA. The commonsense wisdom yet profoundly encompassing effect of this body-based method brought me a long way in healing my back issues but also affected deeply, my psychological and emotional outlook on life.

You are inherently ok, you are accepted, you belong.

This was the underlying experience of my treatments at the Breema Clinic. Wordlessly, I received this.

Now, some twenty years later, it is hands down the thing that most informs my psychotherapy practice, and in fact, every aspect of my life. Practicing the simple self-care movements and bodywork, using the Nine Principles of Harmony throughout my busy day, I am reminded that I have a body and I come from the complication of my thoughts and commentary about myself and life to a simple, direct experience – body, mind, and feelings working in harmony, simply being present in the moment.

I experience vitality, a love for life, and an inclusive attitude that allows me to engage life with openness, confidence, and a real desire for meaningful participation. This is the genuine foundation of my therapeutic relationship with clients– the most potent ingredient.

And because the fundamental, universal principles of Breema are inclusive– I am included in the benefit– my energy is not drained in session. I am not giving my client anything that I am not also giving myself.

 

The Nine Principles Of Harmony

Body Comfortable

When we look at the body, not as something separate, but as an aspect of a unified whole, there is no place for discomfort.

No Extra

To express our true nature, nothing extra is needed.

Firmness and Gentleness

Real firmness is always gentle. Real gentleness is always firm. When we are present, we naturally manifest firmness and gentleness simultaneously.

Full Participation

The most natural way of moving and living is with full participation. Full participation is possible when body, mind, and feelings are united in a common aim.

Mutual Support

The more our Being participates, the more we are able to support life and recognize that Existence supports us. Giving and receiving support take place simultaneously.

No Judgment

The atmosphere of non-judgment gives us a taste of acceptance of ourselves as we are in the moment. When we come to the present, we are free from judgment.

Single Moment/Single Activity

Each moment is new, fresh, totally alive. Each moment is an expression of our true nature, complete by itself.

No Hurry/No Pause

In the natural rhythm of life energy, there is no hurry and no pause.

No Force

When we let go of assumptions of separation, we let go of force.

 

The nonjudgmental atmosphere created by the use of the Nine Principles of Harmony is deeply nourishing and enables us to let go of conditioned patterns, so that we can connect to new and more natural ways of moving, thinking, and feeling. These principles can be integrated and applied in any profession and in all activities of daily life, helping us bring greater harmony to all our relationships.

Breema begins with registering the fact that our body has weight and our body breathes, without feelings of like and dislike, and without taking information from the registering part of the mind to the automatic flow of associations. In association our energy and attention are drawn to the past and future. The aim of Breema is acceptance of our own condition, and from there, acceptance of the condition of the recipient. This creates an atmosphere of acceptance in which the recipient has a chance to accept their own body. They simply let go of the “extra.”

Breema can relax us, but that’s not its principle aim. Breema decrystalizes the body, mind, and feelings. As the body is decrystalized, it becomes capable of having new movements and postures. It’s relationship to the life force changes. The body, mind, and feelings have a new relationship and function cooperatively. The purpose of Breema is to unify our mind, body, and feelings so we can live in harmony with ourselves, with others, and with all life.

– Breema: Essence of Harmonious Life by Jon Schreiber

 

Breema at Kripalu, Stockbridge, Massachusett, April 20-22 

with Jon Schreiber and Matthew Tousignant

Breema is about self-transformation. Using a simple, natural form of touch and body movement, Breema’s unique individual and partner exercises offer a direct, experiential connection to the fundamental laws and guiding principles of the universe.  Timeless, yet down-to-earth and practical, Breema uses nurturing touch, tension-relieving stretches, and rhythmic movements to catalyze ongoing and revolutionary changes in your relationship to yourself, your life, and other people. As your mind, feelings, and body become more unified, harmonious, and natural, you begin to discover the real meaning of health—harmony with existence and a greater potential to live a more purposeful and meaningful life.
This program is a fulfilling entry into Breema’s philosophy, self-care exercises, and bodywork. It provides a distinctive approach to the body-mind connection, helping to nurture vitality, aliveness, non-judgment, presence, and well-being. No prior experience is needed. The program is appropriate for health practitioners who plan to apply what they learn with patients or clients, and for everyone who wants to enhance their own self-care or to practice with family and friends.

 

A Daily Practice

By Filed Under: Mindfulness Tagged With: , , , , , , , ,

When Pema Chodron, the well-known Western Buddhist writer and ordained nun, went to the dentist and he asked her what she did, she responded that she taught meditation. He told her that one day he would begin meditation when he was less busy. She said you probably won’t need it as much then.

A daily meditation practice is like getting to the gym: The longer you stay away, the harder it is to return to, and the more you do it every day, the more your body eases into the habit. When I first started my daily practice several years ago, I fought the usual demons: Restlessness while sitting, lethargy, laziness in getting to the cushion. It was only through repeated group practice at the non-lineage Interdependence Project in lower Manhattan that I began to integrate a daily practice into my life and start feeling the benefits.

[pullquote]Ultimately meditation and daily practice—however it transpires in our lives—can be our treat to ourselves and those around us throughout our lives (and especially the winter).[/pullquote]

In Brooklyn itself there are many centers that provide courses and spaces for mindfulness and meditation, including the Vajradhara Meditation Center in Boerum Hill, the Brooklyn Zen Center, and Third Root Community Center. Paul Sireci, dharma teacher at Third Root, started practicing when he was fourteen or fifteen. A former monk, he’s had a daily practice since he was twenty. “I think it’s given me a better perspective on my emotions. My lows are less low and my highs are not necessarily less high but they don’t seduce me in the ways they did before. I’m more content and when you are more content you don’t need to be wildly happy.”

A daily practice of even fifteen to twenty minutes can be surprisingly difficult in the beginning. Often sitting alone with our thoughts provokes more anxiety in us than peace, even though (or maybe exactly because) the primary purposes of meditation is to become friends with our own minds. People may not find slowing down easy or pleasurable. My husband enjoys his sitting practice except ironically when he feels particularly stressed or anxious, which is when meditation can really help ground us. Sitting with your own thoughts and feelings can be daunting, and it’s not until one begins to trust how they arise and pass, and approach themselves and others with gentleness and kindness that meditation becomes an essential part of one’s day.

Another hurdle to daily practice is prioritization— it sometimes feel overwhelming to bring in a new daily task amongst all the other responsibilities one has. The crucial turning point often comes when you can begin to see the benefits and changes your practice has for yourself and others around you. There’s a leap of faith and often some amount of discipline to go from the intention of having a daily practice to embracing one. At some point, not meditating feels like not taking a shower—like something is amiss.

Practice doesn’t always have to mean sitting. In fact, sometimes the rigidity of having a sitting practice itself intimidates many and can be an obstacle to meditation. Peggy Horwitz, a Brooklyn-based psychotherapist emphasizes mindfulness and kindness to oneself. “I’ve been meditating for over twenty years but for me practice means paying attention and going inward with kindness. For clients who already judge themselves for not sitting long enough or daily, practicing mindfulness throughout the day and in other ways can be equally powerful.”

While having a specific place and time for practice can help structure the daily routine, I often find that being mindful on my commute or while I am in line can be powerful elements of practice. They involve being kind to myself and others, of relating to those around me, and of paying attention at those key moments when we often forget ourselves and our surroundings the most.

Besides habit, there’s also faith. A teacher at the Interdependence Project, and long-time Brooklyn resident, Kate Johnson is a student at Brooklyn Zen and New York Insight. She remembers how it took her nearly three years to make daily practice a reality. “I had this unconscious belief that I was the one person in the world for whom meditation just wouldn’t work.  Of course, I was wrong.

“I think I was inspired to practice daily when I noticed how much kinder I was to myself and others on days that I practiced, and how much more I was able to let go of striving for perfection and just appreciate being alive. I practice meditation because I care about myself, and want to give myself an opportunity to feel grounded, expansive, and connected.  I spent so much of my life not treating myself very well at all.  Meditation is a way for me to tend to my own heart, so that I can tend to the world with love.”

Ultimately meditation and daily practice—however it transpires in our lives—can be our treat to ourselves and those around us throughout our lives (and especially the winter). And maybe if we’re finding ourselves too busy to consider it, we should feel even more compelled to sit. That challenge could be our biggest gift.

Buddhism and Meditation

Third Root Community Health Center

380 Marlborough Road

(718) 940-9343

Vajradhara Meditation Center

444 Atlantic Ave

(917) 403-5227

Brooklyn Zen Center

505 Carroll St. #2

(718) 701-1083

Rock blossom Sangha at Brooklyn community of Mindfulness: meet Sundays from 6:30-8:30 at Church of Gethsemane in Park Slope