Last night, I made an interesting realization about myself. Brittany and I attended a class at Whole Foods entitled "To Carb or Not to Carb" given by Cindy Heroux, a registered dietician. It was very informative, and while I did already know a great deal of what she spoke about, she integrated it all beautifully and provided very good general nutritional advice.
She spoke about how Atkins unfairly incriminates carbohydrates when glucose, a carbohydrate, is an absolutely essential energy source for your brain and nervous system. She said that through the last several decades, diet fads like Atkins have come and gone, but epidemiological studies throughout the world have shown that the populations that ate mostly fresh fruits and vegetables were consistently the healthiest.
Another common-sense, yet uncommonly occurring statement she made was "Everything in moderation." Your body needs a little of everything; it needs fat, protein AND carbohydrates, so don't let yourself fall into the recent carb hysteria -- it's just another fad. Provided you learn moderation, you can eat basically anything you want to. Unfortunately, many people lack the self-discipline required to do that and instead seek a nutritional dogma, very much like they would a religion.
She also made a few comments that piqued my curiosity regarding her involvement in eastern philosophy. One was "Listen to your body," and what she basically means is this: Your body will tell you when to stop eating and it will let you know when it doesn't like a food you've eaten, among other things. This sounded vaguely eastern, but I wasn't really sure about it until she discussed her practice of mindful eating (I think she called it sensual, because it engages all of your senses). Brittany also showed me sections in Cindy's book on things like living in the present, and watching your thoughts. It turns out that she does study eastern philosophies. Which ones? "All of them. I'm a student of the world. I think every culture has something valuable to offer." I thought that was an incredible statement, because it's something I've implicitly felt as I've begun to expand my areas of study.
I decided then, after listening to her nutritional advice as well as hearing about her other studies, that she was an expert on, to borrow from her website, wellness. I asked if I could ask her questions via e-mail because I wanted to go to her with any questions I had in the future, which she affirmed that I could do. It was at that moment that I realized that I collected experts.
A collector of experts, or you could say a connoisseur of connoisseurs. In every area of my life, I have connected with and latched onto people that I considered experts in those fields. For psychology, meditation, Buddhjectivism and design, I have Joshua Zader (I'm sorry, Josh, I mean't "ObjectiBuddhism" *wink*). For exercise and design, Drew Baye has always been extremely helpful. For Objectivism, I have William Thomas (Though Diana Hsieh might disagree.) For meditation and Buddhism, I have Peter Carlson and Arinna Weisman. For investing, there's the man that introduced me to the book responsible for my financial philosophy (Rich Dad, Poor Dad -- Buy it!): Dr. Michael Zerivitz, Lindsey's dad (Whom I haven't spoken to about the subject in a long time because I have no money!). For epicurean endeavors, I have my wonderful mother. If I needed to do some handy work, I imagine I'd call my landlord, Arik March, and if I had a physics question, I'd probably ask Luke Setzer.
The realization made me remember something I read in Charles Givens' book, SuperSelf: "Learn from the experiences of others, rather than your own. " He goes on to elaborate:
You can cut the learning curve by up to 90 percent in anything you set out to accomplish through the application of this simple strategy. You become truly wise not when you get a college degree, but when you learn to learn from both the positive and negative experiences of others so that you don't have to repeat their mistakes and travel all of the dead-end roads yourself.
So next time you find an expert, grab 'em -- and if you're reading this right now, you already have! *wink*
Recently in her blog, Lindsey made the following statement that I would like to address:
"Marshall brought up the topic today of giving an apology with “feeling”. I’m not really sure how to do this or what is involved (he said it should come naturally) in doing this since giving an apology comes from an understanding and awareness of your actions/behavior/words and has nothing to do with “feelings”. Whenever I think about giving an apology with “feeling” I feel the urge to laugh as if I am acting."
First, a few definitions:
apology (n) - An acknowledgment expressing regret or asking pardon for a fault or offense.
apologize (v) - To make excuse for or regretful acknowledgment of a fault or offense.
So we see that an essential part of an apology is the presence of "regret."
regret (v) To feel sorry, disappointed, or distressed about.
Yes, it says "To feel." Without the feeling, it is not an apology. I do realize that part of the definition is "asking pardon" or "making excuse." However, it is not those things that people desire in an apology -- It is that feeling of remorse for doing them harm that they seek.
You mentioned that an apology "comes from an understanding and awareness of your actions/behaviors/words," and yes, it does "come from" that. However, it stops at several places on the way. After it leaves awareness, it proceeds to evaluation, followed by emotion and then reaction. The emotion is what moves us to act; If that emotion is not regret, any apology we give is motivated by other factors.
Sometimes people realize that a wrongdoing of theirs may hurt other people, and they realize this is wrong, and the proceeding emotion is regret. That feeling of regret will then move them to apologize.
Alternatively, a person may instead recognize that a wrongdoing has lead to someone being mad at them, which may make them feel bad about themselves. The resulting emotion is fear, and they apologize so that they no longer have to be subject to the treatment that bears negatively upon their self-image. The apology lacks regret, so it may seem inauthentic, but this is justifiably so because it is *not* a genuine apology (at least not entirely.)
So what do we do with this faux-pology? I think that a person who portrays behavior like that in the latter scenario lacks a certain level of emotional maturity, due to insecurities, inhibited development or various other reasons that I'm not aware of, and this should be considered when determining how to deal with them. Do you condemn them? Well, do you condemn a person for their psychological misgivings? I don't think so.
I think the proper response is some level of compassion. This is an emotion, of course, which must proceed from the recognition of the fact that the person isn't adequately equipped emotionally to provide a satisfactory apologetic response. We know that they don't wish to do us harm, and any harm they do is done unconsciously. The resulting action is then forgiveness.
So yes, Lindsey, an apology does require feeling. But nobody should condemn you if, for whatever reason, you're unable to provide it to them. I certainly lack the emotional maturity required to fully experience regret sometimes when I do something wrong, and this has caused conflicts between my boss and me. Perhaps if he knew this about me, he would approach it definitely, but most of the time it results in his frustration.
I realize I may be oversimplifying the matter or not entirely accurate, so I welcome any comments. (Particularly from experienced psychologists.)
It's been almost a month since I returned from the retreat, so I've had plenty of time to ponder my experiences at the retreat and it's effects, which have been ephemeral, subtle, long-lasting and profound all at the same time. While it has only been a month, the pace and structure of my daily routine has caused me to feel somewhat distanced from the experience, so I'm going to put all my thoughts down before I forget valuable parts of it.
Like I mentioned previously, it was being held at the Holy Name Monastery in St. Leo, FL, which is about 20 miles from Lakeland. Brittany and I were a little late because we initially wandered around the wrong building -- I guess at a Catholic university, several of the buildings resemble what could be a monastery. Anyways, we finally found the right building and arrived right as they were getting started with light stretching exercises, followed by a 45 minute sitting meditation, various announcements and then bedtime.
The structure of the next two days consisted of periods of sitting meditation, walking meditation, dharma talks (discussions of buddhism) and light stretching exercises, with breakfast, lunch and dinner interspersed throughout the day. The whole retreat was supposed to be spent in silence (called "noble silence"), which it was for the most part, but there was some talking during discussions, and of course Brittany and I broke the rules a few times -- at one point, the teacher play-scolded us and told us to stop communicating.
Arinna Weisman was our teacher, and everything about her radiated joy -- her manner is very peaceful and her very presence puts me at ease. She has a British accent from being raised in South Africa, and her speech is polished and intentional. By intentional, I mean that unlike many people who seem to just ramble out whatever comes to mind, it seemed as if everything she said was carefully chosen. She had a very warm and inviting smile, and a jubilant laugh. She's been practicing meditation for 20 years, and has studied many different traditions, including the Zen tradition under Zen Master Thich Naht Hanh.
We would wake up at 6:45 AM and have 30 minutes to shower, after which someone would walk through the dorm hall ringing a bell. We would then report to the sitting room and do sitting meditation for 45 minutes. For those unacquainted with the meditative arts, this consists basically of sitting in one place without moving and doing nothing but watching your breathing. (You can also read Joshua Zader's How to Meditate.) For the most part, I sat in a meditation chair with a zafu on the seat, which proved to be very comfortable. Thoughts would arise and I would automatically be consumed by them until I realized I was thinking, and I would drop the thought and return my attention back to my breath. After the sitting, we would go to breakfast, which consisted mostly of eggs, cereal, fruit and toast. After breakfast, we'd have about an hour to do what we wanted and then I got to ring the bill to signal to everyone to return to the sitting room for another 45 minutes of sitting meditation, followed by 45 minutes of walking meditation.
The purpose of the walking meditation (I think -- I never got around to asking her the purpose) is to practice being mindful of your body and to become accustomed to keeping your attention in your body throughout the day. Prior to the first walking meditation, Arinna gave us instructions on two different methods of doing it. The first method involved counting your alternating steps as such: 1, 1-2, 1-2-3, 1-2-3-4. This continues up to ten, after which you go back down. 10, 10-9, 10-9-8, etc. This was the method she prescribed for those that didn't have the patience or coordination for the other method, which involved mentally identifying each individual component of the walking as you slowly walk: Lifting the foot, placing the foot, and then shifting your weight from the rear foot to the front foot. Lifting, Placing, Shifting. Lifting, Placing, Shifting. Lifting, Placing, Shifting. Lifting, Placing, Shifting, And so on. She also said in her instructions that formally, you would start off at a faster pace and only identify the placing, and after 15 minutes you would slow down and identify only lifting and placing, and after 15 minutes of that you would slow down even more and identify all three. This was an interesting exercise... I found myself picking out a place to walk to in my mind, and then urges arising to get there more quickly, but most of the time I resisted the urges and maintained my slow and steady pace. After a little practice, you get into the natural rhythm of walking despite the incredibly slow pace and everything else around you seems to fade away. Sometimes I didn't resist the urges, however, and used the first counting method as a rationalization to get somewhere more quickly. "I'll just do this other method. It's meditation too, right?"
After some more sitting and walking, it would be lunchtime. I found the meals to be the highpoints of my day, despite the fact that we ate in total silence; However, now in retrospect, the meals are the least memorable. I found myself taking more food than I really wanted to eat. Brittany said she was doing the same thing, and that she thinks that it was compensating for the lack of the usual stimulus, such as social interaction and internet. This might explain why I would get so excited by the meals, but I usually get excited by eating anyways! (I think it was a little of both.) We were encouraged to eat mindfully, which consisted of taking a bite, putting the fork down, closing your eyes and putting all of your attention into that bite of food -- the taste and texture, the feeling of it moving around in your mouth and chewing it and the sensation of swallowing the bite, feeling it go all the way down to your stomach. It was a very satisfying experience, and I found that later in the day I could more easily recall what I ate and exactly what it tasted like moreso than usual.
Some interesting patterns kept arising throughout the weekend. The one that seemed to be most prevalent was my habitual resistance to the present moment, otherwise characterized as wanting to be somewhere else. While I would be doing sitting meditation, I would suddenly get impatient and think "I can't wait for this to be over so I can go outside for the walking meditation, and enjoy the warmth of the sun and the fresh air and actually do some activity." Afterwards, during the walking meditation, I would be thinking, "It's so hot out here, and this walking is boring, I can't wait to get back inside to just relax and do sitting meditation." :-) It didn't take much of that for me to realize what was going on. It happened routinely during every meditation, but I became adept at catching it, identifying it for what it was (a resistance pattern) and then taking my attention back to my breath or walking. I was reminded of the story of a monk who was subject to Chinese water torture, yet survived unscathed. When asked how he did it, his response was this: "Every drop was the first drop." While this probably never really happened, it did help me greatly whenever the thought arose that what I was doing was taking too long -- This is the first breath. This is the first step.
Another pattern of thought that kept arising was this blog entry. No, not this blog entry, but an imaginary one that was very much like it. Sometimes while I would be doing sitting or walking meditation, or eating a meal, my mind would say, "Hey! I could write about this in my blog!" followed by thoughts about the best way to word it. As soon as I caught myself doing it, I would let it go, but it was really quite prevalent the whole time. What strikes me as funny is that despite all the time I spent doing it, the only thing I seem to have retained was "radiated joy," and I guess that's only because when I think of Arinna, that's what comes to mind. Ironically enough, it's taken me almost a month to finally get around to writing the entire entry.
At the very end of the retreat, we formed a circle and one by one discussed our retreat experience. Peter said that lately he's been experiencing intense back pain which had severely hindered his ability to meditate, and that his mind kept telling him horror stories of how he'll never be able to teach meditation again. He got very emotional and he himself started crying, which lasted for about 5 minutes until Arinna decided to move on to the next person due to time restraints. Everyone seemed very vulnerable emotionally, and many people cried while sharing their experiences. Arinna explained why at the end, and gave us a disclaimer regarding our emotional states following the retreat. She said the daily practices of the retreat had "opened up our hearts" and that we would be much more vulnerable once we returned to our normal lives. I disregarded it because I wasn't feeling very vulnerable, but boy was I wrong! I'll get to that in a moment...
After that, we broke noble silence and had lunch, our last meal together. Arinna asked Brittany and I about our jobs, and then expressed interest in having me redesign her website when she found out about what i did. I've since talked to her on the phone and she's arranged to send me tapes of her previous dharma talks for inspiration. These tapes are usually at least $12 a piece, but I'm getting them for free! Anyways, we packed up our stuff and we bought a copy of Arinna's book, The Beginners Guide to Insight Meditation, in which she wrote a personal blessing for us. If anyone would like to read this, let me know and I will gladly buy you a copy -- at least to borrow so that I can lend it to others!
For the next few days after we returned, I was ultra-sensitive! While I was at work, Joshua Zader and I got into a disagreement regarding something I was doing for The Atlasphere in which he said that I was being unprofessional, and I started crying! I realize part of it was because I stake some of my self-worth in his opinion of me, but I ordinarily wouldn't start crying hysterically like that! I had to go to the bathroom a few times to maintain my composure, and Josh and I talked it out. He was very supportive to my condition and was very reassuring, and we ended up resolving it in no time -- it was just a miscommunication! In fact, one of the reasons we were able to resolve it so quickly is because of how uncharacteristically open I was being throughout the ordeal.
Like I mentioned previously, it's been nearly a month and I'm finally getting around to completing this entry and I've lost a great deal of enthusiasm since I started writing it, which was a few days afterwards. I've had various insights following it, but they no longer seem as exciting to me. I no longer meditate as religiously as I did in the days that followed the retreat. Things have definitely returned to normal -- but not entirely. I still feel a lot more open in my dealings with people, and I seem to have developed a greater sensitivty to the suffering I cause others sometimes through my harsh words. Overall, it was an excellent experience, and I'm definitely looking forward to the next one... Hopefully, it will be your first.
Well, I figure it's about time to give my loyal readers an update, as I haven't posted anything since I was leaving for the retreat and I'm sure everyone's getting anxious. So here's what's going on:
I've felt pretty overwhelmed lately. In addition to working 40+ hours a week at Great Insurance Jobs, I've been...
I've been wanting to finish and implement the new design for my blog and theres also a stack of books about a mile high I've been wanting to read. It's strange to think about how much I've been doing lately when a little over a year ago, I was doing practically nothing. I think it's a step in the right direction. Stay tuned for more!
In a half hour, I will be leaving for the Benedictine Sisters of Florida Holy Name Monastery for 3˝ fun-filled and exciting days of non-stop... breathing!
While I'm sarcastically painting it like it's going to be boring, I'm actually very excited about the retreat right now, and I only described it as such because most people reading this will probably think it sounds boring. Except the smart ones, of course. (I can see you steaming already!) Anyways, it's a rarity for me to get excited about anything, so this is a pretty special moment for me.
And I decided to share it with YOU! How special you are. Anyways, I can't waste anymore of my precious time with you because I gotta go get packed -- and as usual, it's the last minute and I'm not ready yet.
Peace. (That's how it's really spelled, Grant.)