Our Moving into Meditation class drew inspiration from the symbolism of darkness and light. We used contemplation and movement to explore the different feeling states we have in association with darkness and light. We used the breathing practices of Chandra Bhedana and Surya Bhedana to tune into the darkness and light in our experience and psyches. Zen poet Jane Hirshfield’s poem evoked imagery to further the journey. We also discussed the concept of the shadow in Jungian psychology.
Guided Relaxation and Contemplation
Welcome. Let yourself enter the breath . . . . let the breath carry your awareness inside your body & begin to move with feelings . . . physical sensations . . . Not having to change the breath in any way . . . feeling its gentle motion . . . the beat of your heart . . . the pulse of your life . . . . right now. . . . May I meet this moment fully . . . May I meet this moment as a friend. What happens when you let these words resonate like a bell inside: May I meet this moment fully . . . listen until the reverberations dissolve into space . . . then May I meet this moment as a friend . . .
We come together to cultivate and sustain a mind of peace and goodwill: For me, the promise of our practice. “May I meet this moment fully” as I develop an alert and balanced mind. . . “May I meet it as a friend” as I take refuge in my mind’s natural benevolence – its goodness. Wherever you are you can return to the breath, feel your body, your heart . . . as you relax more deeply into the present moment you can cultivate peace . . . goodwill . . . drawing on your inner goodness.
(Chandra Bhedana)
Let your right hand rest on the left side of your chest . . . let your arm relax and soften all the way from your shoulder to your hand and let your fingers rest . . . feel the subtle movement of the breath under the palm of your hand . . . start to connect with the yielding energy of the moon . . . now feel the current of breath entering your left nostril . . . . we’ll begin the practice of Chandra Bhedana . . . begin breathing in and out through your left nostril . . . left the inhale be passive and draw out your exhalation . . . continue breathing in this way feeling as though you are descending deeper into the earth with your out flowing breath . . . penetrating the darkening realms of your consciousness . . . let your mind and heart be free to travel through the associations you have with the dark . . . recalling times of rest and retreat . . . . times of fear or sadness . . . meeting this states fully as friends . . . now feel breathing through both nostrils . . . centering . . . relaxing . . .
(Surya Bhedana)
Let your left hand rest on the right side of your chest . . . let your arm relax and soften all the way from your shoulder to your hand and let your fingers rest . . . feel the subtle movement of the breath under the palm of your hand . . . start to connect with the energizing power of the sun . . . now feel the current of breath entering your right nostril . . . . we’ll begin the practice of Surya Bhedana . . . begin breathing in and out through your right nostril . . . let the inhale be active & deep and let the exhale be passive . . . continue breathing in this way feeling as though you are ascending into the light with your in flowing breath . . . entering the enlightened realms of your consciousness . . . let your mind and heart be free to travel through the associations you have with the light . . . recalling times of exuberance and power . . . . times of love or happiness . . . the heat of challenge and transformation . . . meeting these states fully as friends . . . now feel breathing through both nostrils . . . centering . . . relaxing . . .
Jane Hirshfield describes life openings:
Three Times My Life Has Opened
Three times my life has opened.
Once, into darkness and rain.
Once, into what the body carries at all times within it and starts
to remember each time it enters the act of love.
Once, to the fire that holds all.
These three were not different.
You will recognize what I am saying or you will not.
But outside my window all day a maple has stepped from her leaves
like a woman in love with winter, dropping the colored silks.
Neither are we different in what we know.
There is a door. It opens. Then it is closed. But a slip of light
stays, like a scrap of unreadable paper left on the floor,
or the one red leaf the snow releases in March.
After class we discussed the concept of the shadow in Jungian psychology. You can find a fascinating article in the Academy of Ideas, entitled “Carl Jung and the Shadow: The Hidden Power of Our Dark Side.” The describes the nature of the shadow:
“The shadow goes by many familiar names: the disowned self, the lower self, the dark twin or brother in bible and myth, the double, repressed self, alter ego, id. When we come face-to-face with our darker side, we use metaphors to describe these shadow encounters: meeting our demons, wrestling with the devil, descent to the underworld, dark night of the soul, midlife crisis.” (Connie Zweig, Meeting the Shadow)
We also discussed Dr. Robert Sapolky’s October fascinating interview, “At Our Best and At Our Worst.” Dr. Sapolky’s latest book Behave: The Biology of Humans At Our Best and At Our Worst offers readers enough accessible neurobiology to better understand behavior. During the interview a Grace Cathedral audience member asked for a “bio-hack to strength our prefrontal cortex. In his article, “Dude, Where’s My Prefrontal Cortex,” Sapolsky describes this region of the brain:
The frontal cortex is the most recently evolved part of the human brain. It’s where the sensible mature stuff happens: long-term planning, executive function, impulse control, and emotional regulation. It’s what makes you do the right thing when it’s the harder thing to do.
In order to make the prefrontal cortex more robust, Sapolsky suggested that one of the best things you can do is to take another person’s point of view. He stated “an open mind is a prerequisite to an open heart.”
There it is again – the importance of opening – the gateway to empathy and compassion.