Monday 22 February 2010

MINDFULNESS 5: THINKING & FEELING

After a one-week break for half term, I'm back at ChristChurch, Clarendon Park, for the fifth session in the course, "Mindfulness". This eight-week course is an interfaith opportunity presented by Christians Aware (as part of its Faith Awareness programme) in association with Leicester Serene Reflection Meditation Group.

Our topic this evening is "Thinking and Feeling", facilitated by Ian Grayling and Kevin Commons, from the Serene Reflection Group.


We begin with a quick recap of the course so far, in small groups. We share our varied experiences, listen to diverse understanding and appreciations of what has happened in the previous five sessions. One of the most interesting, from my point of view (or perhaps, one suited to my taste) is how the practice of mindfulness brings an enhanced awareness of the body, an acceptance of the physical. It's not an attempt to deny our bodily nature or flee the material world. We spoke about how mindfulness may be seen as a state of reverence toward creation and our place in it. This appears to sum up our first four sessions and offers a bridge into the second part of the course. So far, we've been trying to be mindful of the world around us, mediated by our senses. Now we're going to begin to look within.

Ian asks us to consider how we think: "What is the stuff of thought?" Why is it so hard to express in terms that are comprehensible or meaningful to ourselves or to other people the nature of our constant experience of thinking?

Is it visualising - seeing images inside our head? Is it hearing a voice or voices? Is that voice our own, someone else's or does it vary? Do ideas exist independent of words? Are they in a place that is somehow pre-langauge? If so, then by what means do we access them? Do different people think in different "sensory modalities" - an internalised version of the senses that mediate our external experiences? Is it all random and uncontrollable?

We try a number of thought experiments, imagining some everyday sensory experiences. While some of those present appear to be reacting as if they are undergoing those experiences inside their heads, to me they are felt at arm's length. It's not too hard to imagine my favourite song (the one that leaps up, unbidden, is XTC's "Life Begins at the Hop" - never miss an opportunity to plug XTC!) or to see a nice garden, but I can't feel the taste of lemon juice, the touch of sandpaper on my skin or the smell of freshly cut grass. This leads us back to something we discussed at the last session, how the senses of taste, touch and smell or invasive, how they take place inside the body, as distinct from sight and hearing, which show us things that are "out there". Other interesting questions arise from this exercises: when you imagine a piece of music in your head, are you the performer or are you listening to a performance? Are you originating something or remembering something - and what's the difference between the two?

Arguably, there are only two ways in which people can think: through "internalised senses" and verbally. Once we become aware of how we think, we become more aware that we can be the author of what we think. This reminds me of that phrase in the Council of Faith's Buddhist leaflet: "that mind can be cultivated".

We're asked to go back into the small groups in which we started the evening and to make a list of as many emotions as we can. We come up with 34. Ian starts to make a list of some of these on the flipchart (no more than half a dozen though) under two columns: "good" and "bad". But that's too simplistic, too value-laden (deliberately on his part, I'm sure). We plump for a list of emotions that we like to have and emotions that we wouldn't like to have. But there's general agreement that we can't have the former without experiencing the latter. That would be like never being able to experience the pleasure, contentment of satisfaction of eating if we hadn't known hunger or emptiness.

We spend the last quarter hour or so considering the triune model of the brain, which we touched on at the end of session four: the reptilian part, which deals with the basic functions of life, is rigid and compulsive; the limbic, shared by all mammals, which deals with memories and emotions, is the basis of value judgements in humans and has unconscious influence over behaviour; and the neo-cortex, which deals with language, thought and imagination and is the seat of planning and intentional behaviour and problem solving.

I know it's still winter so I probably shouldn't complain, but I must say it's bloomin' freezing tonight! I'm wearing two jumpers, that's how cold it is. The walk from my house to Clarendon Park Road and back is crisp!

Monday 8 February 2010

MINDFULNESS 4: THE OTHER SENSES




At ChristChurch, Clarendon Park, for the fourth session in the course, "Mindfulness". This eight-week course is an interfaith opportunity presented by Christians Aware (as part of its Faith Awareness programme) in association with Leicester Serene Reflection Meditation Group.

Our topic this evening is "The Other Senses", facilitated by Ian Grayling and Kevin Commons, from the Serene Reflection Group (in what Ian describes as a "job lot").

Ian shows us two "calming techniques" using accupressure which we can apply ourselves, on our wrists, then our hands. He wonders aloud if these techniques actually work or if it's just the practice of doing something mindfully that brings a sense of calm.

We are each asked to pick a single raisin from a tub that is passed around the room. We hold it between thumb and forefinger and roll it around. How does it feel? Then hold it up to our noses. How does it smell? Then place it against our lips: how does that feel? Pop it in our mouths, roll it around on your tongue - but don't chew it! How does that feel? Start chewing, but don't swallow it until you feel compelled to.

Later we try standing perfectly still. This is rather like our attempt to be completely silent last week. When we're trying to be silent we hear stuff going on inside our bodies and inside our heads. When we try to stand still, we feel our body making adjustments to our position as our brain checks and fixes our balance.

Monday 1 February 2010

MINDFULNESS 3: LISTENING

At ChristChurch, Clarendon Park, for the second session in the course, "Mindfulness". This eight-week course is an interfaith opportunity presented by Christians Aware (as part of its Faith Awareness programme) in association with Leicester Serene Reflection Meditation Group.

Our topic this evening is "Listening", facilitated by Ian Grayling and Kevin Commons, from the Serene Reflection Group.


We begin with a guided meditation, helping us recognise the difference between being tense and being relaxed. We finish up with quiet listening and consider if the room is really silent when no one is speaking. It's not, of course, but it's interesting how many different sounds people can hear, either outside (the clock on the wall ticking, fluorescent lights humming, traffic in the distance) or inside (their own heartbeat, the rush of blood in the ears, the effects of tinnitus).

From week one, we've been becoming familiar with the Mandarin Chinese symbol for the verb, "to listen". It includes the symbol not only for the ears (which we'd expect for listening) but also for the eyes, for undivided attention, for the heart and for the whole person. Listening requires more than just hearing. Tonight we practise some of the skills needed for using the ears and eyes in giving undivided attention - including dialogue, paraphrasing, open questions, empathy. These aren't anything new or startling of course, but the brief experience of practice in small groups tonight is instructive and worthwhile. Listening demonstrates respect; empathy demonstrates compassion; giving the speaker your undivided attention draws the heart into the process. We come to the conclusion that listening and getting it wrong is better than not listening and still getting it wrong!

It's a four mile round trip to Christchurch from my place, on foot. I enjoy the walk (even on a freezing cold evening like this one) and enjoy listening to Ian Dury on the way there. But after having done this session on listening, I find that I walk all the way back without benefit of iPod - not intentionally, but that's unusual for me to do three quarters of an hour in silence. I guess whatever we were doing had some kind of effect ...