On mindfulness and realizing mistakes

The wall in my new room

A little over a week ago (June 1) I took a leap, if not of faith, then at least into the unknown and moved into the Shim Gwang Sa (Mind Light Temple). I’m undertaking a residency of at least a year training more intensively in Shim Gum Do and attempting to live by that zen philosophy on a daily basis.

My plan and goal is to develop a more mindful approach to life as I work through the training to my first star black belt in Zen Sword Shim Gum Do, facilitate my spiritual growth and try to generally improve my overall health through better eating and exercise.

It’s probably (all right, definitely) too early to really assess things, but I will say that even though I thought I understood what I was getting into -- and I really did, on a purely intellectual level -- the reality is proving… more strenuous than I was prepared for.

Chanting and bowing every morning doesn’t sound so bad on paper. But the reality of having to wake up at 5:30 most every morning and go from a standing position to a kneeling bow 33 times in a row is definitely hard (but hey, exercise, right?), especially for a night owl like me.

I’ve also gone from training two to four days a week to at least an hour of sword practice every day -- an increase that my muscles are definitely letting me know they weren’t expecting.

My room

But honestly the things that have me feeling most like a fool on an almost daily basis are the mistakes and failures of attention. My bedroom is off of the main training area (the Dharma room); one of the rooms in the temple where a bow to the Buddha shrine on entering and exiting is required.

And I’m starting to really learn about the importance of thinking my actions through after having to go back to my room twice before doing something in the kitchen because I forgot something. I’ve also been reminded (twice) by Sa Bu Nim of the importance of cleaning the sink immediately after washing a dish. (I hadn’t wiped it down because I was going to be back in a minute, I thought, but then I forgot/got distracted).

Or there’s the horror of realizing that the slippers that I wore to take out the compost the night before and accidentally left on the doormat to the kitchen were moved neatly to the side.

These are just the physical manifestations of something that I think I’d been noticing about myself even before I moved in to the temple: I’ve not been very mindful of the others in my life.

If there’s one positive aspect of the realization that I’ve been something of a selfish git for years, it’s the knowledge that there’s plenty of room for improvement.

Have patience with me friends. I’m working on it. (And thank you for sticking by me despite my sometimes self-centeredness).

The view of my bedroom window

On seeking and self-sabotage

Recently I’ve started to wonder when my sense of anticipation for the future turned into a sometimes overwhelming anxiety about what may come.

I can remember, especially during my career as a journalist, how the future seemed to hold nowhere to go but up. I was constantly seeking out new ways of furthering my career, assignments fraught with difficulty and opportunities to educate myself in new skills and techniques of the trade.

But today, as I contemplate changes, even (or perhaps especially) ones that I know will be difficult but ultimately very beneficial for my own growth and progress, I try to find ways to hide from them. Sometimes my hiding takes the form of a massive binge of online television (Netflix is certainly an enabler -- I kid). At others I’m immersed in science fiction of one sort or another; books, audio, online discussions and games.

I even pursue these distractions to the point of (nearly) self-sabotage. To wit-- I more or less skipped training at Shim Gum Do for about three weeks before the test yesterday (May 15). I was permitted to attend the pre-testing workshop and to test (and I passed, achieving the rank of 5th degree green belt). But as I said to a friend before the weekend, had I been the instructor, I’m relatively sure I wouldn’t have let me test (or at least not pass).

I should be clear: this time it wasn’t fear or anticipation of the test itself. My avoidance was triggered by the prospect of moving into the Gwang Sa Temple -- the Mind Light Temple and center where I’ve been studying.

Both intellectually and spiritually I am clear that though the daily routine and mindfulness practice (as well as increased intesity of Shim Gum Do training) will be very good for me -- these are things that, despite early rising, will definitely help me center myself more on a daily basis and, hopefully, be more open to the leadings of the Light. Even the daily routine of early rising for prayer, chanting, meditation and (most days of the week) exercise

But at the same time, I can’t deny the anxiety that prompted a massive amount of goofing off, including more than one sleepless night as a result of playing video games, that thoroughly fouled up my always precarious sleep schedule. In turn, I missed a few committments (usually ones in the morning), though I was able to reschedule without many consequences.

This instinct for self sabotage reminds me of the last days of my time in DC, when I was thoroughly burned out with my job and looked for any avenue to escape. And these acts undermining myself have not always been without consequence, as they more or less were in terms of my training. And I can’t count on them remaining so any more.

If the Divine is watching me this month, it must be confused or frustrated with me (hopefully with some of the infinite compassion I keep hearing about). I constantly ask for signs and portents to show me the way, but once on the path I keep searching for detours and diversions, in spite of my sincere prayers to live God’s will for my life.

But as I seek to change and seek patience for my understanding of the way forward, I suppose I also need to have patience with myself. Avoidance is another bad habbit aquired over many years. It will also take time along with determination, to rid myself of it.

To drink or not to drink? For me that’s not the question

I ran across an article by another Young Adult Friend, examining her personal decision about whether, in Light of Quaker testimonies supporting abstinence from alcohol, she would or should continue to drink.

For me, the important part of her decision is that she came to it mindfully and with consideration -- or at least she did after another Friend’s query prompted some soul searching.

As Socrates is reputed to have said, “the unexamined life is not worth living.” And, as the article points out,  many Yearly Meetings frame their discouraging of alcohol (and other intoxicants) in the form of an advice or a query: an invitation for us to examine the practices in our own life and consider whether they are consistent with living a full life in the Spirit or Light.

Indeed, my entire study of a Zen sword MARTIAL art is a vehicle through which I am examining my understanding and practice of Quaker injunctions against violence and war (well, sometimes it is; at other times it’s just good exercise and the peace of a Zen practice that forces me to quiet my racing thoughts for a time).

As the author puts it:

Statements like that [Britain Yearly Meeting’s Advice and Query 40] sometimes make me long for a prescriptive religion. It would be so much easier to have someone tell me “do this!” and “don’t do this!” than having to consider it for myself. But my Quakerism makes it essential for me to consider three aspects of my spirituality to reach an answer. Biblical tradition, communal wisdom, and personal experience/revelation all come together to form the spiritual framework that thereafter informs my life.

Read the full article “A Young Adult Quaker and Alcohol” to find out what (if any) conclusions the author reached for her life.

On testing and tests

Another test weekend is upcoming and the devilish part of my brain just popped up to say “Surely they wouldn’t deny an Irishman his green belt the weekend after St. Patrick’s Day!” And (with apologies to Leslie Neilson) I have to tell myself “They would deny it if I’m not ready. And stop calling me Shirley!”

 That said, I do feel ready for this test. And I feel like I’m getting into a better spot for establishing a real routine for training (and for my week in general) than I have had in the past. My plan moving forward is to train Tuesday and Wednesday nights and Saturday mornings, leaving Monday night free for a game night at a local hobby store and Thursday clear for either an extra day of training or other activities (like the St. Pat’s dinner I cooked for a friend last night -- while looking excessively Irish or like I was attempting to impersonate a leprechaun).

Part of my reasoning is that the few times recently that I’ve tried to do three (or even four) days in a row of training, the newer and more complicated forms have taken a toll and left me feeling slightly crippled with aches and soreness. Helping a friend move after a Saturday class was also less than ideal -- sore arms and knees are not great for moving boxes down stairs.

So I’m hoping to get a good routine of two or three days on, a day or two off, a day on and then another day or two off, at least until I build up the muscles and flexibility for a more rigorous regimen. The conversation about outside exercising I mentioned in the last post is still reasonably fresh in my mind. Now I just need to get around to it.

On a more serious note, the past three weeks have seen the death by suicide of a young man from the Quaker meeting I grew up in. After hearing a couple of friends express both sadness and a sense of guilt that they hadn’t seen it coming or done something more, I felt led to send this letter to the Young Adult Friend community:

Friends,
Like all of us, I was recently saddened to hear about the tragic passing of Ishmael Rosas. 

Although Ishmael was a member of the monthly meeting I still consider my home, due to my own travels I did not get the chance to know him. But my heart aches nonetheless. 

I also want to express my empathy and support for the Young Friends and those who are now Young Adult Friends who came to know Ishmael through his participation in YF and Friends Camp. I have never lost a F/friend in this way so I can only imagine what you are going through, but I do know that it must be difficult. And I strongly encourage those who are able to join in the memorial service at Storrs Friends Meeting and to take part in the grieving and processing groups that are being organized (with much love and thanks to NiaDwynwen Thomas, Honor Woodrow and others for their parts in that). 

In the wake of any tragedy is is natural to be especially hard hit by feelings that one wishes they had done more or seen the signs more clearly to have been able to say something. 

And, while I don’t want to minimize those feelings, speaking as one who battles depression and has had suicidal thoughts in the past, I urge you not to feel unreasonably guilty for anything you did or didn’t do. 

Many people, myself included, who suffer from this disease have become very good at putting up a brave, happy or even cheerful mask to hide the pain or numbness or isolation that we are actually feeling. We (I) have felt that our burdens are either too big or too trivial to burden anyone else with them -- or that we’re so unimportant or irredeemable that the best course of action is to remove our problems from being anyone else’s, permanently. 

It might seem that a lot of the feelings I’m telling you about are contradictory -- and they are -- but that didn’t stop me from feeling them all at once myself. Depression isn’t big on logic. And reaching out for help can feel like the most impossible thing in the world. 

All I can advise is that you give yourselves time to grieve, and share that burden -- and any others in your life -- with the people you care about and make it lighter. And know that they care about you deeply as well. There is no need for you to face this pain alone. 

And know that in taking care of yourself, you make yourself better prepared and able to help a friend who may reach out to you in need. And if you haven’t spoken to a friend in a while -- especially someone who may have gone away to college and be far from their usual supports -- reach out to check in. Even a brief call, email or text can make a huge difference. 

And if you suffer from depression (or feel that you might), please do reach out to me or to someone close to you so we can help you get the support you need. 

Many people have told me that depression thrives on isolation -- that it wants us alone and in pain when we do not need to be -- in a self-reinforcing downward spiral. But, for me at least, once that spiral is broken, even slightly, it becomes much easier to start back on the path back up to the light. 

With love and holding you all in the Light,
Brendan

Silliness and sustaining motivation

Back at the NEYM YAF fall retreat I happened to mention to a F/friend there that, after venturing into living meme-hood with my profile picture, that I was thinking about borrowing a Star Wars mask from a friend, and posing as the newly created “Darth Quaker.”

In doing so, I probably did my best James Earl Jones/Darth Vader impression of the line, “I find your lack of faith … disturbing.”

But it was Tristan who remembered that the Quaker guiding book (with editions put out by yearly meetings around the world) is entitled “Faith and Practice.”

And so:

Yeah, it’s silly, but it’s fun, and I wouldn’t be writing this, doing Shim Gum Do or working to deepen my connections with my faith and the NEYM community if I couldn’t or didn’t have some fun and silliness from time to time.

It keeps me grounded as I’m counting down with three weeks until the next testing day (March 20). Unlike my test for Yellow, when I felt ready long in advance, took an unscheduled break, and then “crammed” with practice in the week or so before the test, this time, I’m on track and on schedule to practice up gradually (I think/so far).

In fact, I think my main challenge will be to build up my endurance/stamina with the fourth and fifth sword forms, the latter of which involves some spinning jumps and a lot of moves with arm extended or over my head. And my back and right shoulder are definitely making me aware of the need.

It may also, based on a conversation after dinner at the temple this week, be time to get more serious about working out/exercising outside of Shim Gum Do. As a red-belt mentioned after dinner at the temple this week, outside workouts can build strength and endurance in the muscles so there’s a greater ability to focus on the flow of the actions.

For her, the incentive of working out to be better at Shim Gum Do was enough to keep her motivated and going back to the gym, in a way that nothing else had succeded in doing.

And, at least when it comes to motivation for exercise, the red-belt “speaks my mind” about the previous motivational difficulties about gyms & exercise. So perhaps her experience will prove prophetic for my future as well.

On scheduling and still seeking balance

Now available -- my contributions noted in the acknowlegements

In terms of Shim Gum Do training, making it to practice/class eight times in four weeks would probably be marked down at the low end of the acceptable commitment level.

But scheduling those four of those eight days in the first week, missing everything for two weeks, then attending four days in a row in the final week, is DEFINITELY not a good idea, as my aching back, shoulders and stiff knees will attest today.

I’m still, it seems, working through some of the fallout from the Dark December of last year. This is a pattern I need to be aware of -- when I start to feel better, I often force myself back to full steam before I’m really ready because I'm on the upswing and I don’t want to disappoint. Indeed, I practically turned into a vampire in terms of my hours of wakefulness for about two weeks -- literally falling asleep at dawn and awaking at dusk or later on a few occasions.

That said, in terms of sword practice, I’ve learned and am etching into memory (both mental and muscle) the Fourth Sword Form along with the Second Fighting Form. And next week I’m due to learn the Fifth Sword Form, which will be the three elements I need to master for my test for Green Belt.

I am reasonably confident that if I maintain a relatively consistent schedule of three or four classes per week (two or three during the week and Saturday), I should be in good shape for the test the weekend of March 20.

And as an additional incentive to ensure I’m at class regularly, as of next week, I’ll be joining the inhabitants of the temple for dinner on Wednesday nights. Hopefully this will also help me feel more connected to the community there (two of the three other adult ‘beginning’ students -- not black/brown belt or above -- actually live at the temple). It’s a feeling I had when I was around frequently while working on the poetry book and that I’ve kind of missed since finishing that project.

It will also likely help me, at least in part, in achieving better eating habits both in terms of remembering to eat both regular and healthy meals -- a pretty key part of achieving emotional and spiritual health, at least for this fellow.

In more Quaker and explicitly spiritual matters, I’m also excited to be a (small) part of helping my fellow YAFs step up our commitment to supporting each other in spiritual and emotional matters by being part of the group helping to bring forward a proposal for forming a committee to work on the pastoral care needs of the community. Thus far, that’s meant being part of a conference call and being willing to be a part of another, but hopefully I’ll also be a resource for (if not a member of) the committee when it comes together.

(Monkey)

I’m also starting to do more to put into practice an idea that germinated on the drive home from the Midwinter retreat -- forming an affinity group of fellow YAFs in the Boston area. For those not familiar with Quaker terminology, an affinity group is simply a group brought together by an interest, leading or calling around a particular topic -- even if that topic is as simple as mutual support and fellowship. It won’t be ‘striking while the iron is hot’ given that I’ve let a month lapse since the initial idea and tentative inquiries about who would be interested, but better late than never.

It’s (another) new year after all. Happy Year of the Fire Monkey!

My Solstice slump, the New Year rising and my first test weekend

Over the past few years especially, I have noticed a distinct seasonal component to my feelings of despondence, lack of motivation and despair. And in retrospect -- where SO many things are so much easier to see -- it is only natural that a lad raised in Florida from age 2 ½  to 10 would be at least partly solar-powered.

So in these cold, northern, and more importantly eastern, coordinates, when the days get shorter and the end of daylight savings time thoroughly screws anyone who isn’t up at 6 or 7 a.m. out of sunlight for most of the day, I really find my internal batteries running on empty quite easily.

Even protracted warm weather like we had in New England this year didn’t really help because it was often cloudy and it isn’t the heat I need, it’s the sun’s rejuvenating rays. Throw in a holiday, some sleep disruption and the benefit/curse of being able to set my own hours (and natural tendency to want to stay up late), and my system got all out of whack. And of course, I got a really nasty cold on top of everything else.

So December was a bit of a rough month for me. I maintained most of my obligations professionally and socially, but I didn’t attend a single Shim Gum Do class for the latter half of the month until the week before my test for Yellow Belt on Jan. 17th. Nor did I attend Quaker meeting either, missing both the pre-Christmas singing at Beacon Hill Friends Meeting as well as the special Christmas Eve worship.

Fortunately for me, the solstice comes before the New Year. And by the time everyone around me was turning their own thoughts to renewal, the days had been lengthening perhaps enough for me to feel like things were improving as well.

It was with that sense of optimism that I traveled to the Woolman Hill retreat center in Deerfield, Mass., for the Midwinter retreat of the NEYM Young Adult Friends (Jan 7-10), where the smell of the wood stoves burning for heat and the brilliant stars that can only be seen in a clear cold winter sky provided a welcome winter ritual I hadn’t realized I’d missed.

The retreat itself was also a wonderful, warm and caring environment for me to explore some of the issues that had been troubling me -- and to sneak away and practice my sword techniques just enough so I wouldn’t be going back to the temple completely cold and worying about having forgotten everything. Practice, as it turns out, is a pretty good cure for _that_ particular manifestation of anxiety.

As usual, it was great to see the wisdom and compassion they showed in leading workshops, interest groups and different styles of Quaker worship, especially the sometimes thorny issues that can (and did) come up in a meeting for worship with a concern for business. (Note, I use, “they” above, because with the exception of an interest group I pulled together on the fly that was more like a conversation than anything else, I was not _leading_ anything at the retreat). I’d go into more detail of my experiences, but this post is already verging on too lengthy and there will be a formal reflection with other YAFs this weekend (Jan 23) so I will leave those thoughts, as some Quakers are wont to say, for more seasoning.

This past weekend (Jan 16-17) was the first weekend when I was elligible to test to advance from white belt to yellow. The testing weekend consists of a mandatory workshop on Saturday in which the instructors, primarily Sa Bu Nim and Chong Kwan Jang Nim, can assess the students and ensure they are ready for the test, and then the tests themselves on Sunday.

I had been invited to participate in the last workshop in November even though I wasn’t elligible (or ready) to test then because of my work editing/translating Sa Bu Nim’s new poetry book. And it hadn’t been until that point that I realized that there are a number of other black belts and masters teaching their own students in other locations, which made the need for the workshop assessment more clear. Shim Gum Do tries not to bring a student forward to test until he or she is ready to pass.

So I was largely ready for what came Saturday: practice, but encouragement rather than criticism or nit-picking (I didn’t realize how to phrase it until later, but I was not going to be graded on the precise angles of my arms in each stance or the direction my feet were pointing after every step), along with some basic instructions of what to expect for the first test: the layout of the room, when and to whom to bow and to stop immediately if I made a mistake and ask to start the form over.

More important than any of that, though, was the meditation session. In meeting for worship, Quakers sometimes describe feeling the sense of the Holy Spirit or the Light moving within a gathered meeting, whether or not anyone speaks into the silence. Our belief in the divine nature of this feeling comes through the earliest Quakers referencing Matthew 18:20 (“For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them” KJV).

And although I was supposed to be “mind training” or practicing the sword forms in my meditation during the workshop, I had decided to use the meditation time as just unguided meditation. I was alone in the room with an unfamiliar master (who I later was introduced to as Hines Kwan Jang Nim) whose religious beliefs I certainly don’t know, but I still felt that same presence. To me, that was a welcome assurance that Shim Gum Do is, and will continue to be an important part of my spiritual journey for the forseeable future.

The (sharp) metal swords safely removed from learners like me

On actual test day itself: I got to watch one third degree black belt kick 3 thick wooden boards in half, a second third degree use a (sharp) metal sword to chop a hanging cucumber then spin around to attack and brutally slice in half a head-sized watermellon and a red-uniformed master execute a series of complicated rolls and twists in his form while wielding his own metal blade.

There was also the cohort of Shin Boep students (including quite a few children) advancing, who made an impressive line when it came to test their fighting forms.

As for me, I completed my forms with only two major mistakes, and I caught myself both times. So I advanced to the rank of Seventh Degree Yellow Belt. The journey continues.