Posts from — November 2011

This is a wonderful project featuring women helping women to love their bodies, heal their relationship with food, and sidestep the cultural urgings to find ourselves inadequate in the looks department. The important message of this project is that we can always choose to love ourselves.

30+ women writers (including me, Julie Daley, Marianne Elliot, Anna Guest-Jelley, Angela Kelsey, my beloved Jen Louden, Amy Pearson, Kate Svoboda, and others) wrote and, in some cases, recorded readings of letters to our younger selves. My video is below and please check out all the other moving, sweet, and fierce communications on this very important and mysterious topic.

Remember: When you choose love, you have nothing to lose.

About the project:

My video:

My thanks to all who participate in the Open Heart Project, study with me at workshops, visit this blog, or read my books. I am so grateful to you and on this Thanksgiving Eve, I offer you the following.

Recently, a member of the Open Heart Project wrote asking if I knew of any meditations for dealing with anxiety and this really started me thinking. I struggle with anxiety myself and it has been through attempting to apply the dharma to my own experiences that I have come to see its extraordinary applicability. As such, I have several suggestions to make. They are all predicated on having some kind of moment-to-moment, non-conceptual relationship with your own mind and heart, so a meditation practice is pretty much irreplaceable.

About 10 years ago, out of the blue, I started having panic attacks. When I say out of the blue, I mean out of the blue. They began when I was sitting on a plane about to fly from Boston to Denver. I have flown all over the world. I used to have a job that required me to fly to Europe frequently and I’ve lived outside of the US. Never been a problem—until this particular date when I took my seat on a United flight, strapped on my seat belt and began to sob and shake uncontrollably. My mouth went dry. My palms began to sweat. My heart felt like it was going to explode in my chest and adrenaline flooded my belly. It was as if my life had been threatened by a force of terrifying and unrelenting evil. (Some may think this is a sensible response to flying United, but I digress.) I had no idea what was going on, only that I Had. To. Get. Off. That. Plane.

And so I did.

I tried to get on the next flight. Same thing. Uncontrollable terror. I got off again. This time I thought, I’ll get drunk. I don’t really drink very often so it shouldn’t be difficult. Au contraire. I had too much adrenaline in my system to get drunk. 3 double tequila shots later, I sat on the floor by my gate stone cold sober with a splitting headache. In a fight or flight situation, I could not fight, nor could I fly. I went home. Thus I discovered I had been stricken with claustrophobia.

The next morning, armed with valium, I boarded a new flight to Denver. Don’t try this at home, but I had to take 15 mg just to stop shaking when normally a single mg would turn me into a zombie. (I have a low tolerance for, well, everything.) I sat in my seat relaxed, yes, but crying.

The flight attendant asked me if I was OK. “I’m a little claustrophobic,” I said. “Would you like to speak to the captain?” she asked. Sure, I thought. Take me to your leader. In any case, out came a nice man in a uniform who looked me right in the eye, smiled broadly, gave me his hand and, as we shook hello, told me his name (Captain Denny Flanagan) and that he understood I was a little afraid to fly. I nodded, tear streaked, shaking, distraught. He said something along these lines: Well, I can tell you that we have a beautiful day for flying. We have Missy in the front and Biff in the back of the cabin (can’t remember their actual names) and they are going to take great care of everyone. I promise that I am going to get you to Denver safely.

It wasn’t his words that put me at ease. It was his words plus his steady gaze plus his warm handshake PLUS the unmistakable quality of sincerely caring about my well being. I felt better. About an hour into the flight, the flight attendant came to check on me and handed me a business card. It was the captain’s. On the back, he had written this:

Susan—Hope everything is going fine. If I can be of any service let me know. Thanks for your trust and belief in me. Capt. Denny Flanagan

At this point, I began to get a little panicky about leaving the plane. What could be better than to be among people who knew how to be kind? On this day, I realized that if I could get someone to be kind to me, I could work with my anxiety. So now, when I begin to panic on a plane or elevator, I say to someone nearby, I’m a little claustrophobic. Would you mind talking to me for a few moments? I promise not to bug you beyond that. I cannot begin to tell you about the kindnesses I’ve received. Every single person I’ve turned to has responded to me with some kind of generosity, be it to tell me about their own fears, to assure me that God loves me, or simply to ask me my name or where I’m from or some other form of chit chat. Each time this happens, I relax. I’m not saying that few nice words from a stranger are going to cure your phobias, but there is a principle here that is worth paying attention to.

Among other things, anxiety has to do with feeling threatened and alone. When you connect with your fellow humans in a simple and genuine way, anxiety lessens. To connect, you can take one of two routes. You can request kindness from others (as I did, blunderingly) or you can offer it to others.

Just as helpful as hoping for the kindness of strangers is to notice those around you and offer your kindness to them. In either case, kindness is invoked and this is what matters. If you’re on a plane, you could smile at and thank the flight attendant. If you’re in an elevator, you could simply notice those with you and send them good wishes, silently. (Otherwise it could get a little weird.) If you’re at your computer, dreading opening today’s emails, make the first message you send be one of care to someone, anyone. If you’re unable to sleep at night because you have a worried mind, spend a few minutes wishing that all beings who suffer and can’t sleep because they’re afflicted with a worried mind could find relief and a peaceful rest. Expand your circle of concern to include all beings—which doesn’t mean expelling yourself from that circle. After all, “all beings” includes you if I’m not mistaken.

The ability to relax with your fears long enough to consider options such as offering or receiving kindness is cultivated through your meditation practice. Meditation teaches you to soften toward your own experience which naturally, spontaneously gives rise to the ability to soften toward others. When we live in a world of kindness, we will have the world we deserve. Thus, gentleness is your super power and the antidote to anxiety is, well, love.

And when you begin to doubt in the basic goodness of your fellow humans, please refer to the token I carry with me in my wallet, always:

Please sign up for the Open Heart Project to receive meditation instruction twice weekly via email.

I’m bumping this post up to a more current date (it’s from 2009) because I continue to receive really touching and inspiring and important stories from people. Please read through these painful, brave, thoughtful stories and, if you feel so moved, offer your wisdom in return.

More than anything, personal stories help others to heal.

So if you can, please post the story of your broken heart in the comments section. Talk about what happened. Talk about about how you felt. Talk about what helped, what didn’t, and how you feel now. It doesn’t have to be a super redemptive story about how everything in your life is now perfect. (Although it can be!)

Just speak from your heart.

If you don’t know how to begin, start with these questions. Cut and paste this into the comments section and fill in the blanks. If you don’t know how to answer a particular question, just skip it for now. Email me if you have any questions or concerns about posting.

1. My break up occurred _______ days/months/years ago and since that time, my primary emotions have been _______, _______, and  _______ .
2. The last time I felt feelings such as these was when  _______. What I notice when I compare these two experiences is  _______.
3. The thing that has been the most difficult for me since this relationship ended is  _______.
4. When I think about our break-up, the thought or thoughts that plagues me over and over is/are  _______.
5. I feel the pain of this loss most acutely when I  _______.
6. What I miss most about our relationship is  _______.
7. What I don’t miss about our relationship is  _______.
8. The thing I regret most is  _______.
9. The unforeseen benefit of this break up is  _______.
10. If I could take him/her back right now, I would/would not and here’s why: _______.
11. The most important thing others need to know about healing a broken heart is  _______.

THANK YOU

I was very moved by how many people have been in touch since my post on meditation and depression to let me know that they too struggle with depression.

One thing that makes depression so difficult is that you feel trapped by it. It reduces the world to something very small and claustrophobic. It seems that you have no options. But if you look just below the surface of depression, what you find is sadness which is raw and tender and workable.

However, we live in a world that rejects sadness as an indication of failure. When you reach your arms out to hold your own sadness, what you will find is not a brick wall of bleakness and dejection, but the secret gateway to genuineness, soulfulness, and the ability to love and be loved. That is how important sadness is.

Meditation is the gateway for embracing sadness and rejecting depression.

Please sign up for the Open Heart Project to receive meditation instruction.