Cultivating Flexible Awareness - Yum!

I’m a hit-or-miss meditator. After a few weeks of consistently ‘missing’ rather than ‘hitting,’ I decided to try a new approach. I’m a big Oprah fan, and Oprah is a big Deepak Chopra fan, so I figured I’d give one of his guided meditations a try. Now I understand why the man is a millionaire. I didn’t even know that binge meditating was a thing, but that’s pretty much what I’ve been doing for the past few days. I sneak away from my kids at every opportunity, lock myself in my room, and instead of eating chocolate and watching “The Crown” like any normal mother would do, I meditate with my new pal Deepak.

Sometimes, at the end of a meditation, when he tells me “It’s now time to release the mantra,” I go rouge and keep right on repeating that mantra to myself, meditation bell be damned. A few mornings ago, the mantra was “Yam,” a simple one-syllable sound that, according to Ayurvedic medicine, vibrates with the energy of the heart chakra. My favorite thing about this mantra is that it’s pronounced “Yum.” Repeating it over and over to myself feels playful, silly, and—dare I say—delicious. My body becomes an open mouth, ready to taste the whole of life.

A week ago, I worked up the courage (or recklessness, depending on your perspective) to return to my local YMCA and swim laps for the first time since getting sick last March. Swimming carried me through my three pregnancies (literally, my belly was so buoyant I could barely manage a flip turn). It was my go-to rehab for injuries. And now, with POTS, the embrace of water feels like a full-body compression sock that swaddles my heart into some semblance of normalcy. I didn’t swim far or fast, but it felt wonderful. On my first swim, the goofy grin that just wouldn’t leave my face made it difficult to avoid swallowing pool water. Yum.

A few days ago, back at the pool again, I found myself in my head rather than in my body. My brain obsessed over how much swimming would be too much. It scanned my body for symptoms. It took note of the pressure in my head and the ache in my muscles and issued a stream of judgments about them. The trouble wasn’t that these sensations were in my head; they are very real. The trouble was that my head was getting stuck inside these sensations, unable to feel beyond them. I was wasting a lovely experience by not being more fully present. “Yum,” I told myself. And then again, “Yum, yum, yum.”

My mind quieted as my body glided through the water. I could feel the whole of myself. I could feel the cool of water on my face and the way my fingertips churned bubbles. That ache in my head and muscles was still there, but it was slight, gentle, a nearly neutral sensation.

How often do we get trapped in a single line of thinking, a single story, a single sensation, a single pinpoint of this vast reality? I’m practicing taking in more sensation rather than less. Of course, I notice when my heart is pounding or when I’m dizzy. Yes, I notice the fatigue, and I certainly notice the brain fog. But I’m also practicing opening myself to the sensations of my feet against the floor, the spring breeze tickling my skin, the aliveness of my hands, the gentle pressure of my eyelids when they fall shut.

This is not a call to push through pain or limitation. It’s not a call to ignore symptoms or to take up exercise if movement sets you back. (I’m still struggling to find the sweet spot between too little movement and too much.) It’s just an invitation to play with this question: Is your awareness of your symptoms keeping you from noticing other sensations? If so, what might it feel like to practice more flexible awareness—to take in more of your own experience?

If you would like to play with this idea and feel up to some very gentle movement, then check out the yoga video below. As always, remember that your intuitions about what is best for your body far outweigh any suggestions I might make.     

P.S. I appreciate your ‘likes’, comments, shares, replies, and ‘coffees’. I’ve put the last few weeks of coffee donations toward start-up costs for a Corona Cafe podcast, and I hope to be able to share that with you soon!