During our evolution we lost our fangs, claws and venom as we traded up for a big brain. 
As this brain grew, it gained the processing ability to go beyond the defensive reaction of its dark beginnings and, learning to see a bigger picture, strategize its way past danger and toward sustenance. This remarkable ascension is still happening and that’s a wonderful thing. Yet, that growth happened so quickly, our minds are developing new skills while our brain is still holding to old processes. This creates a dissonance between a view of what may be possible and what we fear could happen.
One of the most venerable of our ancient systems is our survival instinct. As our brain initially expanded as a defensive measure it also developed a spiritual, artistic and intellectual capacity yet unseen on our planet. Yet, that defensive survival imperative still exists – and, in fact may be more inflamed by the rapid changes it faces. Our mind gives precedence to negativity and fear as a survival strategy. Survival is compelling. A part of us values panic over relaxation. As we begin to see what is possible for us, a darkened part from of our past rears its head. When we become triggered, our mind spins as it tries to work its way out of the perceived danger. This happens too quickly for us to track and so we tend to wake up in the middle of some obsessive thought as a focus of our anxiety. We find ourselves working out a familiar thought in our mind over and over again. “Why did I say that?” “Why didn’t I tell them this?” The process is more about fear of a problem than it is a mindful attempt to solve the problem. We become stuck in our brain. And since the mind is not thinking in a way that can solve the problem, we may begin to feel inadequate and victimized by life.
Because we are still indebted to ancient defenses our mind closes down around that one thing it feels threatened by. Although a reaction to fear, the narrative may try and feel strong by manifesting anger to an object or ourselves. That little voice in the head telling us there is something wrong about ourselves, is a means of bad self-parenting. We’re trying to fix ourselves but this only serves to make us depleted and weakened. It is sadly ironic that just when we need our mind the most, it turns from awareness into compulsion.
Meditation practice trains the mind to cut past the compulsion. When we notice our mind thinking, we let it go and return to the breath. This is not to get rid of the thought, but to free the thought from its compulsive cycling. This mindfulness of mind gives us the power to turn our mind from compulsion to awareness. Yet, the momentum of our cycling mind is so powerful, it takes a lot of practice to learn to work with it. In time, we learn to stop believing the story, and work with the process.
When our meditation practice wanes we lose our “spiritual hygiene” and our emotional / mental immune system becomes compromised. When this happens we become susceptible to random afflictions of mind. Small things, unresolved issues, and lingering questions become the seeds of creating a much larger blockage. When our mind lacks the strength to protect itself it becomes obsessed with whatever it is it is worried over. My teacher calls this being held hostage by our minds. “Give me that drink or I’ll torture us all night.” “I need that cookie or I’ll be in a bad mood all day.” I need, I want, and I have to have what I need to want right now. Yet, a moment from now it could be something entirely else we absolutely need to have. Our mind becomes demanding even when it doesn’t know what it wants. Our needy mind completely dominates our field of vision. Rather than take joy to the world around us, we are robbed by that one thing we can see past. And when we blame the object or ourselves we only serve to embed the process further.
So, the way out of this is the way in. The problem is in our activated sympathetic nervous system. It’s not happening in our mind. Our mind is looking on in horror, but the seizure is happening in the nervous system. Whatever thoughts we might have are tangential to the fact that we have been triggered, and in a fear state we are unable to see clearly. Our ancient mind is aflame and hijacks our higher reasoning. Our higher mind is conscripted to figure a way out of the spinning so it goes into overdrive. The panicked body clenches. Fear begets fear begets fear. This process happens more subtly when we are able to push compulsive thoughts aside and yet the toxic psychologies they create nonetheless fester in our mind and body. The gnawing feeling that we are not good enough, strong enough, smart enough are bags we carry. Some of us have carried them so long, we just assume they are real. And here is another sad irony. Everything changes. Therefore, a thought we’ve had for years, that has become embedded in us, is less likely to be valid. The fact that we are holding onto an idea for years doesn’t make it more real. In fact, our mindful mind would point to the contrary.
So, how do we live with this ancient brain in a modern developing mind? With care and respect. The mindful mind can be aware of itself. With practice, it can develop the strength to be the leader of itself. Lead the mind, or it will lead you means that we would do well to learn about the mind – objectively – before we try and change anything. My teacher was fond of pointing out how we learn to much about everything except the tool that does the learning. Mindfulness of mind is learning to understand our mind. When are we likely to be hijacked by our ancient fear-based defenses? Maybe we can believe our brains less when our spiritual or emotional immunity is likely compromised, as in when we’re hungry, angry, lonely or tired. We can believe our mind less when we are absolutely SURE of anything. We can simply believe our stories less and feel our feelings more.
We will never figure it out while we are spinning. The mind is simply not at its best when it’s agitated. There is not clarity in agitation. The mind is at its most effective when it is calm. Calmness of body, brings calmness of mind. Calmness of mind allows the mind’s natural clarity to dawn. Even though we feel a compulsion to react to the problems of life, they are best addressed in serenity. So the work isn’t figuring out the problem. The work is protecting the mind from panic so it can see its way through. When we’re up all night spinning over something, the story is not real. The fear beneath the story is what’s real. Not the story of the fear, but the history of that fear. Hold the fear, and calm the body. And do whatever you can to support and love yourself. Our minds need us. We would do well to protect and honor them.
Living with a big brain takes care, understanding and training. The ancient brain needs to be led by kindness. And the modern mind needs to move beyond itself and continue to grow.
I sadly never got out of my head long enough to let my heart into the equation but maybe it happened at some point. It wasn’t until years later when meditation gave me the courage to allow vulnerability. But, whether it was groping on a high school dance floor, fumbling in the back seat, or sitting on the meditation cushion, the moment of frailty when we “fall” is an important step in our spiritual journey.
So, how can we make this large picture practical for us? We can begin by loooking at ourselves, as we are. How can compassion make my life a better place? What can I do today to make my life easier and more productive so that I may better serve? This is not selfish, it’s practical. However, trying to make my life better than someone else’s, or a better place for only me and mine, is selfish because it’s narrow minded and myopic. Compassion is developing the tools to care for ourselves so that we can care for other beings. But, we are one of those beings. In fact, until we learn to effectively care for ourselves we will be unable to care for others.
Yet, if we accept that we are a work-in-progress then we can learn to gain confidence in ourselves. Self-aggrandizement, like the arrogance it engenders, covers leads to a lack of belief in ourselves. We know inside that we are not the ideal, and so believe we are less than the ideal. But that truth is if we can accept ourselves and vow to discover what we become, we are committing to a path of supporting ourselves. As we develop self-awareness, we naturally gain regard for ourselves. And though this regard for ourselves we begin to see others more clearly. Freed of the veils of defensive self interest we begin to see that we are not as estranged from our world as we had imagined.
Contacting love in our life is possible if we are free of the turmoil that often occupies our mind. Sometimes this happens accidentally, as when something startles us and stops our mind. Sometimes it happens when our mind naturally notices a flower or bird that opens our mind. 
Compassion is natural to all life. But so is danger. Much of life does what it can to sustain itself and focuses its cellular attention on living, growing and providing, serene in its unknowing. Most life is a natural and necessary part of the dance of the planet. But, the greatest danger to the balance of life comes from the only part of the planet that sees itself. The one who’s acidic stomach is gurgling as it watches the rabbit hop merrily into the wooded shadows. The greatest danger lies within. This is as true of ourselves and our societies. This is the greatest danger because it is the one unseen. We are so attuned to the danger around us, we lie in vulnerable ignorance of the aggression we cause ourselves and others. It is the work of compassion practice to help us reprogram the mind to balance the openness of loving moments with the truth of the dangers in life. We do this by de-emphasizing the importance of ourselves to ourselves that is clouding the picture. THis is not to say that we are not important. We are just not as important enough to suck the air out of life. Humans are a little like drunken blowhards going on about their workout routine at a party. SIr Harold Pinter wrote a play called “The Party” in which a group of haute society people revelled in their intrigues and drama while occasionally, we have seemingly inconsequential references to turmoil in the streets. By play’s end it is clear the turmoil is a violent revolution that will end everything they know.
Over 
direction is too loose. Sometimes we rail against the authority of form, and this stops the flow, but it may be necessary to reboot the process or add freshness to a routine. But once we reboot, finding the groove and waking up in the rhythm of life. Navigating between the extremes of too tight and too loose we find the balance point for optimal creativity in life. A dancer needs discipline, but the point of the discipline is to let go into the piece. No one wants to see anyone work. We want to see them dance. We want the fruit of their labor. So, form need never be seen. The hand of the director should never be seen. The dance should feel as natural as the river.
This post will introduce the idea of slowing down in order to establish or reestablish a flow that allows us to move more efficiently. Here we will use the analogy of the cat, relaxing in repose, so that it has the energy and calm to spring into action. We are talking about how to maintain synchronicity so that our flow is strong and even. This requires an aware meditation of our energy. If we move too quickly for our present circumstances, we lose connection to synchronicity. Such as when we’re moving so quickly, we fail to see where we are going. In the Tibetan Buddhist tradition it is said that speeding through life is an essential disregard for our humanity. Our personal dignity becomes subsumed by anxiety as we scurry like a hamster. The goal becomes more important than the journey. But, it is said, the journey is the goal. How we approach life is as important as anything else in life. Meditating our speed allows us to move with grace and dignity. It also allows us to move more efficiently. Sometimes we need to slow down in order to get things done. On the other hand, sometimes we need to encourage ourselves to move more quickly in order to maintain our energy. Sometimes we need encouragement to move at all.
the “Samatha” level of our meditation training. Samatha means peace, or cultivating peace in its active rendering. In Tibetan Buddism it is taught as a 9 stage process of progressive settling. These Tantric systems of Indian and Tibetan Buddhism endeavor to connect mind and body. Progressive settling in to the present is not just “being in the now” in a conceptal sense. But settling into ourselves as the working basis of our path toward full awakening. Yet “path” implies movement. All things, even when apparently still, are in motion. All things are in dynamic interaction with all else. Settling into that movement with unhurried elegance is “entering the stream”.
Awareness of our breathing is the perfect tool for maintaining the meditative flow state. Breathing is the intimate rhythm of our life. It describes a through line of our life from moments after birth to our last moments. Returning to the breath is a way of maintaining our meditative awareness on the cushion, but this process can be effectively carried over into our daily life. We can use awareness of our breathing to relax the nervous system and allow the mind to let go back into a natural flow. Breathing can guide us through turbulent waters. When in doubt, breathe your way through. Allow yourself to settle and then let go. Letting go INTO the flow is not running away from anything. It’s allowing yourself to move past it with minimal engagement. How many issues in life simply do not need the attention we give them. I worked with a shaman who told me my work was not to be anything or to accumulate things, but to learn from everything. Appreciation means not grabbing, but seeing clearly the value of something. We lose perspective when we grab things. We objectify them and interrupt the flow. When we appreciate someone, we have the distance to see them as they are. And if our desire or anger or need causes us to get stuck we have the tools of recognition and return. We see that we are stuck. We feel our stomach tightening, our mind scripting imaginary narratives, our heart aching for something that isn’t here. Then we know we are stuck in the past or the future. The present is a flow state. So when we are stuck, we recognize that and return to the flow of our breath. The breath will guide us back to the flow of now.
With meditation practice we are training to notice subtler and more ordinary moments that stop the mind. And perhaps more importantly, we learn to accept these authentic moments, as they are, without commentary for longer periods of time. This serves to infiltrate the wall of separation that we fabricate to keep ourselves isolated from life. You might say, we are turning the lights on to our life. If our mind is supple enough, we can see all life as alive and interactive. In time, we see ourselves as a part of everything rather than struggling to overcome anything. In popular culture, this is known as being one with everything. In Meditation traditions this is known as non-dual experience. Nondual experiences are instances of clear perception when we are directly connected to the moment as opposed to dualistic experiences when we are separated out and looking in.