Collection of Picture Quotes, Articles, Messages and Writings from different public material. The posts on this blog is a collection from different websites, books, publications, web-sites, tweets, etc., and belong to either the individual writers, or the respective websites and/or organisations. Wishing you a very enriching and a soulful experience!
Monday, 30 November 2015
Friday, 27 November 2015
Essence Of True Friendship
A friend is a loved one who awakens your life
in order to free the wild possibilities within you. --John
O'Donohue
Anam Cara and the Essence of True Friendship
--by Maria
Popova, syndicated from brainpickings.org,
Oct 21, 2015
Aristotle
laid out the philosophical foundation of friendship as the art of
holding up a mirror to each other’s souls. Two millennia later, Emerson
contemplated its two
pillars of truth and tenderness. Another century later, C.S.
Lewis wrote: “Friendship
is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art, like the universe itself… It has no
survival value; rather it is one of those things which give value to
survival.”
But
nowhere do the beauty, mystery, and soul-sustenance of friendship come more
vibrantly alive than in the 1997 masterwork Anam
Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom (public
library) by the late, great Irish poet and philosopher John O’Donohue (January 1, 1956–January 4, 2008), titled
after the Gaelic for “soul-friend” — a beautiful concept that elegantly
encapsulates what Aristotle and Emerson and Lewis articulated in many more
words.
O’Donohue
examines the essence and origin of the term:
In
the Celtic tradition, there is a beautiful understanding of love and friendship.
One of the fascinating ideas here is the idea of soul-love; the old Gaelic term
for this is anam
cara. Anam is the Gaelic word for soul and cara is the word for friend. So anam carain
the Celtic world was the “soul friend.” In the early Celtic church, a person who
acted as a teacher, companion, or spiritual guide was called an anam
cara. It originally referred to someone to whom you confessed, revealing
the hidden intimacies of your life. With the anam
cara you could share your
inner-most self, your mind and your heart. This friendship was an act of
recognition and belonging. When you had ananam
cara, your friendship cut across all convention, morality, and category.
You were joined in an ancient and eternal way with the “friend of your soul.”
The Celtic understanding did not set limitations of space or time on the soul.
There is no cage for the soul. The soul is a divine light that flows into you
and into your Other. This art of belonging awakened and fostered a deep and
special companionship.
The
kind of friendship one finds in an anam
cara, O’Donohue argues, is a very special form of love — not the kind that
leads us to pit
the platonic against the romantic but something much larger and more
transcendent:
In
this love, you are understood as you are without mask or pretension. The
superficial and functional lies and half-truths of social acquaintance fall
away, you can be as you really are. Love allows understanding to dawn, and
understanding is precious. Where you are understood, you are at home.
Understanding nourishes belonging. When you really feel understood, you feel
free to release yourself into the trust and shelter of the other person’s soul…
This art of love discloses the special and sacred identity of the other person.
Love is the only light that can truly read the secret signature of the other
person’s individuality and soul. Love alone is literate in the world of origin;
it can decipher identity and destiny.
But
being an anam
cara requires of a purposeful
presence — it asks that we show up with absolute integrity of intention. That
interior intentionality, O’Donohue suggests, is what sets the true anam
cara apart from the acquaintance
or the casual friend — a distinction all the more important today, in a culture
where we throw the word “friend” around all too hastily, designating little more
than perfunctory affiliation. But this faculty of showing up must be an active
presence rather than a mere abstraction — the person who declares herself a
friend but shirks when the other’s soul most needs seeing is not an anam
cara.
O’Donohue
writes:
The
heart learns a new art of feeling. Such friendship is neither cerebral nor
abstract. In Celtic tradition, the anam
cara was not merely a metaphor or
ideal. It was a soul-bond that existed as a recognized and admired social
construct. It altered the meaning of identity and perception. When your
affection is kindled, the world of your intellect takes on a new tenderness and
compassion… You look and see and understand differently. Initially, this can be
disruptive and awkward, but it gradually refines your sensibility and transforms
your way of being in the world. Most fundamentalism, greed, violence, and
oppression can be traced back to the separation of idea and affection.
The anam
cara perspective is sublime
because it permits us to enter this unity of ancient belonging.
O’Donohue
borrows Aristotle’s notion of friendship and stretches it to a more expansive
understanding:
A
friend is a loved one who awakens your life in order to free the wild
possibilities within you.
[…]
The
one you love, your anam
cara, your soul friend, is the truest mirror to reflect your soul. The
honesty and clarity of true friendship also brings out the real contour of your
spirit.
Anam
Cara is a soul-stretching
read in its entirety, exploring such immutable human concerns as love, work,
aging, and death through the timeless lens of ancient Celtic wisdom. Complement
it with poet and philosopher David Whyte on the
true meaning of friendship, love, and heartbreak, then treat yourself to
O’Donohue’s magnificent On Being conversation with Krista Tippett — one of the last
interviews he gave before his sudden and tragic death.
If
you realize how vital to your whole spirit — and being and character and mind
and health — friendship actually is, you will take time for it… [But] for so
many of us … we have to be in trouble before we remember what’s essential… It’s
one of the lonelinesses of humans that you hold on desperately to things that
make you miserable and … you only realize what you have when you’re almost about
to lose it.
Maria
Popova is a cultural curator and curious mind at large, who also writes for
Wired UK, The Atlantic and Design Observer, andis
the founder and editor in chief of Brain Pickings (which offers a free weekly
newsletter).
Be The Change: We often take
our near ones for granted. Today forge a deeper bond with a friend or loved
one.
Thursday, 26 November 2015
Kindness Includes Everything
Kindness Includes Everything - George Saunders
What I regret most in my life are failures of kindness. Those moments when another human being was there, in front of me, suffering, and I responded ... sensibly. Reservedly. Mildly.
Or, to look at it from the other end of the telescope: Who, in your life, do you remember most fondly, with the most undeniable feelings of warmth? Those who were kindest to you, I bet. It’s a little facile, maybe, and certainly hard to implement, but I’d say, as a goal in life, you could do worse than: Try to be kinder.
Now, the million-dollar question: What’s our problem? Why aren’t we kinder?
Here’s what I think: Each of us is born with a series of built-in confusions that are probably somehow Darwinian. These are: (1) we’re central to the universe (that is, our personal story is the main and most interesting story, the only story, really); (2) we’re separate from the universe (there’s Us and Them, out there, all that other junk – dogs and swing-sets, and the State of Nebraska and low-hanging clouds and, you know, other people), and (3) we’re permanent (death is real, o.k., sure – for you, but not for me).
Now, we don’t really believe these things – intellectually we know better – but we believe them viscerally, and live by them, and they cause us to prioritize our own needs over the needs of others, even though what we really want, in our hearts, is to be less selfish, more aware of what’s actually happening in the present moment, more open, and more loving.
So, the second million-dollar question: How might we Do this? How might we become more loving, more open, less selfish, more present, less delusional, etc., etc?
Well, yes, good question. Unfortunately, I only have three minutes left.
So let me just say this. There are ways. You already know that because, in your life, there have been High Kindness periods and Low Kindness periods, and you know what inclined you toward the former and away from the latter. Education is good; immersing ourselves in a work of art: good; prayer is good; meditation’s good; a frank talk with a dear friend; establishing ourselves in some kind of spiritual tradition — recognizing that there have been countless really smart people before us who have asked these same questions and left behind answers for us.
Because kindness, it turns out, is hard — it starts out all rainbows and puppy dogs, and expands to include . . . well, everything.
Commencement speech given by author George Saunders at Syracuse
Tuesday, 24 November 2015
10 Ways To Become More Grateful
Piglet noticed that even though he had a Very
Small Heart, it could hold a rather large amount of Gratitude. --A.A.
Milne
10 Ways to Become More Grateful
--by Robert
Emmons, syndicated from Greater
Good, Nov 17, 2015
1.
Keep a Gratitude Journal. Establish
a daily practice in which you remind yourself of the gifts, grace, benefits, and
good things you enjoy. Setting aside time on a daily basis to recall moments of
gratitude associated with ordinary events, your personal attributes, or valued
people in your life gives you the potential to interweave a sustainable life
theme of gratefulness.
2.
Remember the Bad. To be grateful in
your current state, it is helpful to remember the hard times that you once
experienced. When you remember how difficult life used to be and how far you
have come, you set up an explicit contrast in your mind, and this contrast is
fertile ground for gratefulness.
3.
Ask Yourself Three Questions. Utilize the meditation technique known as
Naikan, which involves reflecting on three questions: “What have I received from
__?”, “What have I given to __?”, and “What troubles and difficulty have I
caused?”
4.
Learn Prayers of Gratitude. In many
spiritual traditions, prayers of gratitude are considered to be the most
powerful form of prayer, because through these prayers people recognize the
ultimate source of all they are and all they will ever be.
5.
Come to Your Senses.Through our senses—the ability to touch, see, smell,
taste, and hear—we gain an appreciation of what it means to be human and of what
an incredible miracle it is to be alive. Seen through the lens of gratitude, the
human body is not only a miraculous construction, but also a gift.
6.
Use Visual Reminders.Because the two primary obstacles to gratefulness are
forgetfulness and a lack of mindful awareness, visual reminders can serve as
cues to trigger thoughts of gratitude. Often times, the best visual reminders
are other people.
7.
Make a Vow to Practice Gratitude. Research shows that making an oath to
perform a behavior increases the likelihood that the action will be executed.
Therefore, write your own gratitude vow, which could be as simple as “I vow to
count my blessings each day,” and post it somewhere where you will be reminded
of it every day.
8.
Watch your Language. Grateful
people have a particular linguistic style that uses the language of gifts,
givers, blessings, blessed, fortune, fortunate, and abundance. In gratitude, you
should not focus on how inherently good you are, but rather on the inherently
good things that others have done on your behalf.
9.
Go Through the Motions. If you go
through grateful motions, the emotion of gratitude should be triggered. Grateful
motions include smiling, saying thank you, and writing letters of gratitude.
10.
Think Outside the Box. If you want
to make the most out of opportunities to flex your gratitude muscles, you must
creatively look for new situations and circumstances in which to feel
grateful.
Monday, 23 November 2015
Friday, 20 November 2015
Wednesday, 18 November 2015
Are You An Adrenaline Addict
Life is available only in the present. That is
why we should walk in such a way that every step can bring us to the here and
the now. --Thich Nhat Hanh
Are You An Adrenaline Addict
--by By
Kelly Wendorf, syndicated from equusexperience.com, Feb 11,
2015
Adrenaline
is Not Power
The
other day I was driving home and a text chimed in on my phone. It was one of
those really
importanttexts that makes you do stupid things like respond while you are
driving. Which I nearly did. Instead, I pulled over, and started letting my
fingers fly on the tiny keyboard.
Texts
have this way of making you feel like something is really urgent, an emergency
of epic proportions. Maybe because of their brevity, combined with their
symbolic shorthand, they kick in that genetic conditioning from the old
telegraph days: Your
mother is dead [stop] Come home from the war immediately [stop].
Before
I could finish the text, I realized something interesting. I was actually
addicted to that brief moment of relief delivered by responding to that text
right away. Like a rat with her proverbial lever, responding to texts and emails
releases a tiny yet significant amount of pleasure hormones—emphasis on tiny. So
minute after minute, we press that lever to get the pellet, responding to dozens
of emails and texts that promise some eternal final resolution—Sisyphus with an iPhone.
I
imagined me in a 12-step meeting, all of us smartphone-less, writing
appointments down in our Filofaxes, having actual face to face conversations,
‘Hi, I’m Kelly, I’m a text addict’.
But
here’s something else I learned. I get a rush of adrenaline when I can respond
to something quick and efficiently. For a moment I feel, just a little, in
control of my destiny — world dominance measured out in infinitesimal bits and
bytes. I feel, yes (just a little bit) powerful.
But
adrenaline is not power. It is, however, a cheap imitation.
I
began to watch myself throughout each day, during those moments of choice
between a quick-fix option (adrenaline), or a more considered, wisdom-informed
alternative (power). I started slowing down, responding less immediately,
choosing power over adrenaline. I made some people mad. ‘Where were you?’ They
shouted, ‘I just texted you!’ Or, ‘Why didn’t you respond to my email yet?’
But
in spite of their sense of abandonment or worry (‘I thought you were off in a
ditch somewhere!’), I was giving them more of me. Responses that took time were
more present, accurate and effective. Some things even resolved themselves
without me getting in the middle and making a mess of them. I stuck my foot in
it a lot less. I made less mistakes. And I was happier.
Something
about our modern culture’s framing of time drives this artificial sense of
urgency. It sets up the perfect neurochemical setting for the creation of a
society of adrenaline addicts.
As technology governs more of our lives, we find ourselves in a widening gap between chronos and kairos—the ancient Greeks’ two words for time. The former refers to chronological or sequential time, and the latter signifies a time lapse, a moment of indeterminate time in which everything happens. While chronos is quantitative, kairos has a qualitative, permanent nature.
As technology governs more of our lives, we find ourselves in a widening gap between chronos and kairos—the ancient Greeks’ two words for time. The former refers to chronological or sequential time, and the latter signifies a time lapse, a moment of indeterminate time in which everything happens. While chronos is quantitative, kairos has a qualitative, permanent nature.
Chronos
is a stopwatch. Kairos is a compass.
To
every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the
heaven, Ecclesiastes assures us. In other words, relax, it’s taken care of.
We don’t have to be the guy at the control panel every second of the day. We can
pause, we can let the greater mechanism at work handle things.
Kairos,
meaning the
right or opportune moment (the supreme moment), begs the question—right for whom? Therein
lies the key, for the ‘rightness’ is governed by something more universal than
your idea of a deadline. As collateral damage in this age of adrenalin, its
disappearance means we lose a kind of divine leverage. Kairos allows for
something else to do the heavy lifting.
Chronos
feeds adrenaline. Kairos feeds power.
One
of the qualities of successful people is their trust in kairos. I have a friend
who refuses to have a to-do list, nor practice any kind of time management
strategy. I’ve watched him over the years with curiosity. Remarkably, his time
is rarely wasted by email ping pong or phone tag.
Invariably
if he needs to tell someone something, he bumps into them right at the perfect
moment, or picks up the phone and they are there. He seldom lets artificial
emergency govern his actions (much to my frustration at times!). If something is
truly urgent, then yes, he responds. But otherwise, he moves more like his own
river. He is calm and easy to be around.
Here’s
a fun self test (I grabbed from the Internet) to see if you are an adrenalin
addict:
1.
I drink caffeinated beverages in order to get going and keep going.
2. I eat sugar to calm myself.
3. I over-promise and then rush to finish projects.
4. I arrive at work rushed and already “on”.
5. I feel an inner rush or lack of stillness most of the time.
6. I tend to be impatient.
7. I drive over the speed limit, tail gate and get angry in traffic.
8. I tend to run late or arrive just in time.
9. I often have to deal with a problem or hassle in my life.
10. I don’t allow reserves of time in the day for things that come up.
11. I love a challenge and pushing through it as hard as I can.
12. It takes me a few days to calm down from surprises or upsetting events.
13. I find it boring or difficult to just relax and hang out.
14. I am at my best when under pressure and deadlines.
15. Sometimes I deliberately set myself up to wait until the last minute.
16. I don’t arrive at the airport an hour before my flight.
17. I carry my cell phone even when I don’t need it.
18. I unconsciously try the hardest way to get something done.
19. People complain that I’m not there with them, even when I am.
20. I am a driven type person.
2. I eat sugar to calm myself.
3. I over-promise and then rush to finish projects.
4. I arrive at work rushed and already “on”.
5. I feel an inner rush or lack of stillness most of the time.
6. I tend to be impatient.
7. I drive over the speed limit, tail gate and get angry in traffic.
8. I tend to run late or arrive just in time.
9. I often have to deal with a problem or hassle in my life.
10. I don’t allow reserves of time in the day for things that come up.
11. I love a challenge and pushing through it as hard as I can.
12. It takes me a few days to calm down from surprises or upsetting events.
13. I find it boring or difficult to just relax and hang out.
14. I am at my best when under pressure and deadlines.
15. Sometimes I deliberately set myself up to wait until the last minute.
16. I don’t arrive at the airport an hour before my flight.
17. I carry my cell phone even when I don’t need it.
18. I unconsciously try the hardest way to get something done.
19. People complain that I’m not there with them, even when I am.
20. I am a driven type person.
Score
Key:
15-20 — You are a certified adrenaline addict
11-14 — You probably have an unhealthy level of adrenaline in your body.
6-10 — You may have an adrenaline problem.
0-5 — Bravo! Adrenaline does not have a hold on you.
15-20 — You are a certified adrenaline addict
11-14 — You probably have an unhealthy level of adrenaline in your body.
6-10 — You may have an adrenaline problem.
0-5 — Bravo! Adrenaline does not have a hold on you.
If,
like me, you get high from adrenaline, don’t worry (it’s just another form of
adrenaline). Just take tiny baby steps to befriend kairos again. She’s waiting
patiently for you. Remember that every second on this earth is a gift, so what
do you want to do, or not do, with it? Respond quickly to a text, or pause and
exhale and let kairos have her way? Guaranteed, dear Sisyphus, she’ll help you
keep that stone on the top of that hill.
This
article originally appeared in EQUUS and is republished with permission. EQUUS is
an innovative self-mastery and inspired leadership process for individuals and
organizations whose work has been validated by thought leaders of the business
community around the world, and recognized as a key differentiator in the art of
teaching essential yet elusive organizational and personal change concepts.
Be The Change: Today, when you
experience the urgency to respond -- to an e-mail, text message or voice mail,
try something different. Pause. Inhale. Exhale. Take a moment to let your next
action come from that powerful expansive place of conscious
choice.
Tuesday, 17 November 2015
Monday, 16 November 2015
The Difference Between Education And Training
The Difference Between Education and Training by Rachel Naomi
Remen
For me, the process of education is intimately related to the process of healing. The root word of education -- educare -- means to lead forth a hidden wholeness in another person. A genuine education fosters self-knowledge, self-trust, creativity and the full expression of one’s unique identity. It gives people the courage to be more. Yet over the years so many health professionals have told me that they feel personally wounded by their experience of professional school and profoundly diminished by it. This was my experience as well.
It has made me wonder. Perhaps what we have all experienced is not an education at all but a training, which is something quite different. Certainly in medicine the training dimension of schooling has become more and more central and assumed a greater importance as the many techniques of the scientific approach have been developed. The goal of a training is competence and replicability. Uniqueness is often discouraged and may even be viewed as dangerous.
A training is all about the right way and the wrong way to do everything. In a training, your own way of doing something can often become irrelevant. In such a milieu students often experience their learning as a constant struggle to be good enough. Training creates a culture of relentless evaluation and judgement. In response students try to become someone different than who they are.
At the end of the Healer’s Art teachings, the students stand in a large circle, silently review their memories of the course and identify the most important thing that they learned or remembered during the course. They then turn this insight into an affirmation: a little phrase which begins in one of three ways: I am ... I can ... or I will. One at a time, the students go around the circle each saying their phrase out loud. This year will be the 24th year that I have taught the course at my medical school. The most common thing that students say in this sharing is a simple three-word phase: I AM ENOUGH. Year after year it is the same phrase I myself say as well. It is the beginning of everything.
In Medicine, training is essential to technical competence. The real question is, is training good enough?
My dream of medicine was not to become competent. My dream was to become a friend to life. It was that dream that enabled me to endure the relentless pursuit of competency required of me. But competence did not fulfill me then and could not have fulfilled me for my medical lifetime. Only a dream can do that.
Saturday, 14 November 2015
Death Is Life's Door
Death Is Life's Door - Paul Fleischman
(Note from the Editors: 'Sitting' here refers to seated meditation)
Sitting enabled me to see, and compelled me to acknowledge, the role that death had already played, and still continues to play, in my life. Every living creature knows that the sum total of its pulsations is limited. As a child I wondered: Where was I before I was born? Where will I be after I die? How long is forever and when does it end? The high school student of history knew that every hero died; I saw the colors of empires wash back and forth over the maps in the books like tides. (Not me!) Where can I turn that impermanence is not the law? I try to hide from this as well as I can, behind my youth (already wrinkling, first around the eyes, and graying), and health insurance: but no hideout works.
Every day ends with darkness; things must get done today or they will not happen at all. And, funny, rather than sapping my appetite, producing “nausea,” (...) the pressure of nightfall helps me to treasure life. Isn’t this the most universal human observation and counsel? I aim each swing of the maul more accurately at the cracks in the oak cordwood I am splitting. I choose each book I read with precision and reason. I hear the call to care for and love my child and the forest trails that I maintain as a pure ringing note of mandate. I sit at the dawn of day and day passes. Another dawn, but the series is limited, so I swear in my inner chamber I will not miss a day.
Sitting rivets me on the psychological fact that death is life’s door. No power can save me. Because I am aware of death, and afraid, I lean my shoulder into living not automatically and reactively, like an animal, nor passively and pleadingly, like a child pretending he has a father watching over him, but with conscious choice and decision of what will constitute each fleeting moment of my life. I know that my petals cup a volatile radiance. But to keep this in mind in turn requires that an ordinary escapist constantly re-encounters the limit, the metronome of appreciation, death.
I sit because knowing I will die enriches, and excoriates my life, so I have to go out of my way to seek discipline and the stability that is necessary for me to really face it. To embrace life I must shake hands with death. For this, I need practice. Each act of sitting is a dying to outward activity, a relinquishment of distraction, a cessation of anticipatory gratification. It is life now, as it is. Some day this austere focus will come in very, very handy. It already has.
About the Author: Paul R. Fleischman is a psychiatrist, a teacher of Vipassana meditation, and an author of eight books, most recently, "Wonder: When and Why the World Appears Radiant". The above is from his essay, "Why I Sit".
Monday, 9 November 2015
Friday, 6 November 2015
Be With The Magic
Be With The Magic - Steve Karlin
When animals look out of their eyes they don’t see what we see. Some of them see ultraviolet light, some of them can see very clearly for hundreds of yards, some of them can’t see further than a foot away from their heads, some of them see color, some of them don’t see color. When they listen with their ears, what they hear is not the same as what we hear. When they taste, their taste buds are different than ours. When they smell, some of them smell hundreds of times better than we can, some of them can’t smell at all. But we as human beings have the ability to reach out to them and they have the ability to reach out to us and when those two things touch, when the being of that wild animal and the being inside of you is yearning for a relationship and it touches, that’s the magic. […]
Most of the time we stop ourselves from seeing what’s really going on outside of us. Or we use the filters that we put in place and what we see is only a projection of what we want to see out in nature. What we need to do is sit down and just go to that zero point, that place of quietness inside where we can have relationships and understand what is going on around us. I think that some sort of contemplative, meditative practice is extremely important for us as human beings, no matter what it is. It’s an incredible way to clear yourself out so you can be there in a present state in a relationship.
A wolf called Cheyenne helped me tremendously to cultivate a meditative, mindful practice. Whenever I was in this wolf’s enclosure and I started to think about something else, immediately within seconds the wolf knew that I was not one hundred percent with her. In response, she would lift up her lip and start growling at me, telling me: “Steve, you are here with me now. You be here. Don’t think about other things. Don’t be outside this thing. Be with the magic that is taking place between me and you at this moment.” And that lesson has carried me over because with her, she was physically telling me, “Meditate, be still.”
Meditation is not always with your eyes closed, being remote from humans, and remote from everything. A lot of it has to do with what happens when your eyes are open and you’re walking around in this world. Who are you? Are you out for yourself? Are you becoming a martyr? Who are you? Are you judging everything by standards that you’re not even sure of? Maybe you can just be who you are and not have to worry and change that self-narrative because we all have a self-narrative about who we are but like any story we can change it. We have the power of the pen, which is our consciousness. We have the power of rewriting our own story, which is inner work. And that’s just as important, if not more, as outer work. It really helps clear you out and when you’re cleared out inside, these animals tend to want to look at you and they’re attracted to you.
About the Author: Steve Karlin is a former National Park Service ranger, renowned environmental educator and award-winning environmental reporter who has appeared on local and national news. He is the founder of Wildlife Associates, where animals that cannot survive in the wild are cared for, and in turn given the space to become teachers.
Thursday, 5 November 2015
How To Focus A Wandering Mind
Life is only available in the present moment.
--Thich Nhat Hanh.
How to Focus A Wandering Mind
--by Wendy Hasenkamp, syndicated from Greater Good, Apr 18, 2015
New
research reveals what happens in a wandering mind—and sheds light on the
cognitive and emotional benefits of increased focus.
We’ve
all been there. You’re slouched in a meeting or a classroom, supposedly paying
attention, but your mind has long since wandered off, churning out lists of all
the things you need to do—or that you could be doing if only you weren’t stuck
here…
Suddenly
you realize everyone is looking your way expectantly, waiting for an answer. But
you’re staring blankly, grasping at straws to make a semi-coherent response. The
curse of the wandering mind!
But
don’t worry—you’re not alone. In fact, a recent
study by Matthew Killingsworth and Daniel Gilbert sampled over 2,000 adults
during their day-to-day activities and found that 47 percent of the time, their
minds were not focused on what they were currently doing. Even more striking,
when people’s minds were wandering, they reported being less happy.
This
suggests it might be good to find ways to reduce these mental distractions and
improve our ability to focus. Ironically, mind-wandering itself can help
strengthen our ability to focus, if leveraged properly. This can be achieved
using an age-old skill: meditation. Indeed, a new wave of research reveals what
happens in our brains when our minds wander—and sheds light on the host of
cognitive and emotional benefits that come with increased focus.
What
happens in the wandering mind?
For
something that happens so often, what do we really know about this process of
mind-wandering?
For
thousands of years, contemplative practices such as meditation have provided a
means to look inward and investigate our mental processes. It may seem
surprising, but mind-wandering is actually a central element of focused
attention (FA) meditation. In this foundational style of meditation, the
practitioner is instructed to keep her attention on a single object, often the
physical sensations of breathing.
Sounds
simple enough, but it’s much easier said than done. Try it for a few minutes and
see what happens.
If
you’re like most people, before long your attention will wander away into
rumination, fantasy, analyzing, planning. At some point, you might realize that
your mind is no longer focused on the breath. With this awareness, you proceed
to disengage from the thought that had drawn your mind away, and steer your
attention back to your breath. A few moments later, the cycle will likely
repeat.
At
first it might seem like the tendency toward mind-wandering would be a problem
for the practice of FA meditation, continually derailing your attention from the
“goal” of keeping your mind on the breath.
However,
the practice is really meant to highlight this natural trajectory of the mind,
and in doing so, it trains your attention systems to become more aware of the
mental landscape at any given moment, and more adept at navigating it. With
repeated practice, it doesn’t take so long to notice that you’ve slipped into
some kind of rumination or daydream. It also becomes easier to drop your current
train of thought and return your focus to the breath. Those who practice say
that thoughts start to seem less “sticky”—they don’t have such a hold on
you.
As
a neuroscientist and meditator, I’d long been fascinated with what might be
happening in my brain when I meditate. Being familiar with both subjective,
first-person meditative practice and objective, third-person scientific
research, I wondered what would happen if I put these two modes of investigation
together. Could I get a more fine-grained picture of how this process works in
the brain by leveraging the experience of these cognitive shifts during
meditation?
I
started by considering the default mode network, a set of brain areas that tend
to increase in activity when we’re not actively engaged in anything else—in
other words, when our minds tend to wander. Maybe it was this default mode
network that kept barging in during my meditation, interfering with my ability
to keep my attention focused. And maybe this network was what I was learning to
“tune down” by practicing over and over. I wondered if I could test this
scientifically.
Supported
by funding from the Mind & Life Institute, and with the
help of colleagues at Emory University, I started to test which brain areas were
related to meditation. We asked meditators to focus on their breath while we
scanned their brains: whenever they realized their minds had been wandering,
they’d press a button. Then they would return their focus to the breath as
usual, and the practice would continue. As they did so, we collected MRI data
showing which brain regions were active before, during, or after the button
press that corresponded to various mental states.
The
study, published
in the journal NeuroImage,
found that, indeed, during periods of mind-wandering, regions of the brain’s
default mode network were activated. Then when participants became aware of this
mind-wandering, brain regions related to the detection of salient or relevant
events came online. After that, areas of the executive brain network took over,
re-directing and maintaining attention on the chosen object. And all of this
occurred within 12 seconds around those button presses.
Looking
at activity in these brain networks this way suggests that when you catch your
mind wandering, you are going through a process of recognizing, and shifting out
of, default mode processing by engaging numerous attention networks.
Understanding the way the brain alternates between focused and distracted states
has implications for a wide variety of everyday tasks. For example, when your
mind wandered off in that meeting, it might help to know you’re slipping into
default mode—and you can deliberately bring yourself back to the moment. That’s
an ability that can improve with training.
The
benefits of building focus
What
are other practical implications of this knowledge? Recent behavioral research
shows that practicing meditation trains various aspects
of attention. Studies show that meditation training not only improves
working memory and fluid
intelligence, but even standardized
test scores.
It’s
not surprising—this kind of repeated mental exercise is like going to the gym,
only you’re building your brain instead of your muscles. And mind-wandering is
like the weight you add to the barbell—you need some “resistance” to the
capacity you’re trying to build. Without mind-wandering to derail your attempts
to remain focused, how could you train the skills of watching your mind and
controlling your attention?
In
our study, we also wanted to look at the effects of lifetime meditation
experience on brain activity. In agreement with a growing number of studies, we
found that experience mattered—those who were more experienced meditators had
different levels of brain activity in the relevant networks. This suggests that
their brains may have changed due to repeated practice, a process called
neuroplasticity.
One
brain area stood out in this analysis: the medial prefrontal cortex, a part of
the default mode network that is particularly related to self-focused thoughts,
which make up a good portion of mind-wandering content. It turns out that
experienced meditators deactivated this region more quickly after identifying
mind-wandering than people who hadn’t meditated as much—suggesting they might be
better at releasing distracting thoughts, like a re-hash of a personal To Do
list or some slight they suffered at work yesterday.
In
a follow-up study, we found that these same participants had greater coherence
between activity in the medial prefrontal cortex and brain areas that allow you
to disengage attention.
This means that the brain regions for attentional disengagement have greater
access to the brain regions underlying the distraction, possibly making it
easier to disengage. Other
findingssupport this idea—more experienced meditators have increased
connectivity between default mode and attention brain regions, and less
default mode activity while meditating.
This
might explain how it feels easier to “drop” thoughts as you become more
experienced in meditation—and thus better able to focus. Thoughts become less
sticky because your brain gets re-wired to be better at recognizing and
disengaging from mind-wandering. And if you’ve ever struggled with
rumination—re-living a negative experience over and over, or stressing
(unproductively) about an upcoming event—you can appreciate how being able to
let go of your thoughts could be a huge benefit.
Indeed,
the Killingsworth and Gilbert study I mentioned earlier found that when people’s
minds were wandering, they tended to be less
happy, presumably because our thoughts often tend towards negative
rumination or stress. That’s why mindfulness meditation has become an
increasingly important treatment of mental health difficulties like depression, anxiety, post-traumatic
stress disorder, and even sexual
dysfunction.
Reading
all this might make you think that we’d be better off if we could live our lives
in a constant state of laser-like, present moment focus. But a wandering mind
isn’t all bad. Not only can we leverage it to build focus using FA meditation,
but the capacity to project our mental stream out of the present and imagine
scenarios that aren’t actually happening is hugely evolutionarily valuable,
which may explain why it’s so prominent in our mental lives. These processes
allow for creativity, planning, imagination, memory—capacities that are central
not only to our survival, but also to the very essence of being human.
The
key, I believe, is learning to become aware of these mental tendencies and to
use them purposefully, rather than letting them take over. Meditation can help
with that.
So
don’t beat yourself up the next time you find yourself far away from where your
mind was supposed to be. It’s the nature of the mind to wander. Use it as an
opportunity to become more aware of your own mental experience. But you may
still want to return to the present moment—so you can come up with an answer to
that question everyone is waiting for.
This
article originally appeared on Greater Good,
the online magazine of UC Berkeley's Greater Good Science Center. It is
reprinted here with permission. Wendy Hasenkamp, Ph.D., is a neuroscientist and
Senior Scientific Officer at the Mind & Life
Institute.
Be The Change: Today, when you realize
your mind has wandered far away from where it was supposed to be, don't be hard
on yourself. Instead, use it as an opportunity to become more aware of your own
mental experience, and gently return your focus to your
breath.
Sourced
From www.dailygood.org
Tuesday, 3 November 2015
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