One of my least favorite Spanish grammar lessons in high school with Señora Nula was conjugating the conditional— “Si salimos ahora, llegaremos a tiempo." At least in Romance languages, cause and effect are built into how we talk and, therefore, how we think. Of course we have this structure because it can be true— if I close my finger in the car door, it will hurt! Yet these thought patterns also often bleed over into how we conceive of the world and our place in it-- "If I do c, d will happen" or "if x happens, then I will feel y"; or "if I feel a, then b is going to happen." What prognostications! If we explore our thought patterns more deeply, we might find that subconsciously, it feels like we have been in situations where there was a causal link when maybe it was just a correlation. We are wired to learn from past experiences how to respond to the future. However, this can serve us very poorly.
Danger! Or, Not?
French Renaissance writer Michel de Montaigne is attributed to saying, “My life has been full of terrible misfortunes, most of which never happened.”
What are the ways in which your mind conjures up whole made-for-daytime television episodes about all that might go wrong in your life? It might be not living up to your own expectations or the perceived expectations of others, not getting into college. But you might also only be moments away from total catastrophizing, that a B means you’ll end up digging ditches and living an unfulfilling life eating hot dogs for dinner every night.
I had a flashback recently to one of my earliest memories of doing this. Even from the young, fresh age of 8, I was already reinforcing these deeply conditioned habits. There were no cell phones in those days, and a girl from my class had called my home phone and left a message on our physical answering machine asking if I could come over to her house that weekend. My task, in trying to be a ‘normal’ kid and seeking connection, was to call her back and accept such an offer.
Life in the Snow Globe
We're conditioned to constantly focus on getting through our day-- fix it, change it, do it already! So meditating or practicing just being helps us settle down and respond more wisely to situations and relationships. A helpful analogy is to think of our life like one of those snow globes. Usually, our thoughts, emotions, angstiness and reactions to whatever is happening shake that thing our life up. We can't see a thing, we are in a whirlwind!
When you turn your attention inward and rest on your breath or a chosen anchor, you're allowing the snow globe/mind to chill. There's a break in the storm and the snowflakes naturally settle to the bottom. Cue Jimmy Cliff singing, "I can see clearly now..." Of course, this takes time and won't happen immediately or forever. Still,
Potholes Won't Disappear, It's time to find a better mechanic
There is bad news and good-- no, actually, fantastic news.
I'll give you the bad news: first, If you missed it somehow still, life can be bumpy. Like a mid 2000s Chevy Express, no shocks bumpy. The fundamental issue is that we live our lives wanting things to go a certain way (my way!) and try to avoid anything not going our way (that goshdarn pothole-filled highway).
Way, way back, this made sense. Survival instinct and avoiding danger were imperative for our distant ancestors.
But today, our same reflexes that used to warn of imminent danger now actually lead to toxic stress. As a student, it would be dandy if you get all A's, win lots of competitions, are constantly adored by your teachers, peers, and family, and win at life. But life isn't like that. Eventually, we all make mistakes, are hurt, and get hurt. Life will only sometimes go 'our way.' Inevitably, from time to time, the proverbial sh$t will hit the fan. At such moments, we can get wrapped up in stories of guilt, blame, should've, would've, and feel like not enough. Queue stress.
The fantastic news: Life is full of craziness. But rather than playing wack-a-mole blindfolded and getting exhausted in attempting to bat away your troubles, and those poor moles, you can learn how to take off the blindfold and invite those tired moles to come have a snack with you. Mindfulness trains you to change how you relate to those situations and, importantly, to yourself when life serves up sour lemons. We can get out of the catastrophizing vortex of the stories we are telling ourselves (this test is the end of me! I'm doomed!). So you’re not going to be able to change the roads you’re driving on (life), or the vehicle (body) you’re in, but oh yes, we can add suspensions and get an excellent mechanic to work magic. Potholes are there, but you can feel them much less. And it all starts with breathing in, knowing you're breathing in, and breathing out, and knowing you're breathing out. More how-to next time.
Demands and The Paradox of Choice
A lot is asked of students these days, both explicitly and implicitly. It's common for my students to ask when they will have the opportunity to have real choice and freedom. With rigorous classes, extracurricular activities, and the pressure to plan for summer programs or even future careers, the demands are never-ending.
Feeling like you are living someone else's life or playing by someone else's rules can lead to disengagement and burnout. When stressed, it's easy to react impulsively, whether by saying something hurtful, shutting down emotionally, or pushing people away. We often don't even know or realize what we're doing, how it's probably not doing us any favors, and why we're really reacting.
Mindfulness is a powerful tool that can help us gain the 'ultimate choice.' We can’t always change our circumstances and can’t choose or control desired outcomes (I’ll come back to this often). But by developing mindfulness, we train our brains to respond wisely rather than react impulsively. As Viktor Frankl said, "Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom." By cultivating this space, we open ourselves up to a domino effect of positive change.