THE CENTER FOR MINDFUL LIVING - Notes from Louisa

THE CENTER FOR MINDFUL LIVING

April, 2022

5/8/2022

Note from Louisa

I am finding these to be very challenging times as of late, even though things seem to returning to something more recognizable, for the moment anyway. There is still so much liminality in the world, so much that is undefinable and ineffable, as we continue to navigate the pandemic, the Ukrainian war, the changing climate, the ongoing oppression of others.

The world can feel like it is unraveling at times, and me along with it.

These are the times when I am most vulnerable to some form of distorted storytelling. The brain is a meaning making organ, after all. It has any number of creative ways to develop narratives that help me think that I know what’s happening.

This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. We are designed to look for and rely on some kind of model for our experience, especially when it feels threatening, or sufficiently outside of our ordinary experience of reality for us to know how to respond. Our central nervous systems do not do well with the unknown.

When I find myself in these spaces of confusion, when I feel the footing beneath me shifting, I try to make it a practice to slow down and acknowledge my vulnerability to a story that shores up my ego, or reduces the complexity of the situation to something more digestible, but incomplete.

Here is the invitation to humility. Holding our understanding lightly in open hands, makes room for new information, or a shift in perception or perspective, and gives us space for compassion as well - for ourselves and for others.

It is okay not to know. Confusion feels uncomfortable, so we tend to breeze past it. Perhaps we might try welcoming the unknown and undefined, the generative befuddlement that always precedes understanding? There are lessons here too.

Blessings on your journey,
Louisa

March, 2022

3/31/2022

Note from Louisa

On March 20th, the northern hemisphere moved through the vernal equinox, the midpoint between the winter solstice and the summer solstice, where the hours of light and dark are perfectly balanced.

Not only does the equinox signal the advent of spring, but invites us to
pause and examine what feels out of balance in our lives. On this day, and the corresponding autumnal equinox on September 22nd, we can play with the idea of unifying internal opposites and honoring the darkness within us, as well as the light.

Just as spring heralds the beginning of the year, with evidence of new life springing up all around, the passive, contemplative focus of winter is left behind. We feel the stirring energy of new life, new opportunities, new ideas.

Perhaps, we can use this pause to invite a little spring cleaning for the soul? Clearing off the earth to make room for the small seedlings that will push through the soil to find the sun. What within you needs help and support to find its way into the light? What unhelpful habit or belief might be discarded for the energy of a new practice or idea?

Using the cycles of the Earth to help guide our work throughout the year keeps us attuned to the same benchmarks that our ancestors used for millennia to move in concert with the seasons and to mark periods of great transition, as well as moments of stillness. To embrace what grows in the light, as well as what thrives in the dark. Both are needed to be whole. What is your work for the spring?

Blessings on your journey,

Louisa

February, 2022

2/28/2022

Note from Louisa

Here we find ourselves again on the precipice of spring. Soon the dark days will be dispelled again by early morning light and bird song. And the cycle continues… How lovely to have the dependable structure of the calendar to orient us in times of chaos and general befuddlement!

We are entering the third year of this “time out of time” initiated by the pandemic, and it feels like a shift is happening yet again. (I am firmly of the belief that periods of “transition” are the rule, rather than the exception, and that those of “stability” are the brief, glorious, and ineffable moments in between!)

The world is undergoing a global initiation and, in order to successfully ascend from the underworld, we must reexamine the parts of our lives that must be transformed. What are we being initiated to?

As the threat of war looms, as the planet can no longer sustain our wounding, as we turn against one another rather than acting to protect the most vulnerable among us, what are we being asked to examine?

This deep initiation is unlike any other in our lifetimes, and it is happening to all of humanity. This is truly a transformative moment for our species. How can we navigate such epic times?

C.G. Jung offers us these thoughts:

“The psychological rule says that when an inner situation is not made conscious, it happens outside, as fate. That is to say, when the individual remains undivided and does not become conscious of his inner contradictions, the world must perforce act out the conflict and be torn into opposite halves.”

If you have found yourself, as of late, lamenting the state of the world, let the invitation be to look within, rather than judge without. The only changes we can affect happen within our own psyche.

But, when we all are willing to examine the shadow within, when we can tolerate our own “humanness”, we also have access to our full complement of strengths and resources.

What discomfort in yourself are you being asked to turn toward, rather than away from? Only then can our ascent out of darkness truly begin.

Blessings on your journey,
Louisa

January, 2022

1/31/2022

Note from Louisa

Welcome to our first newsletter of 2022! If you are new to our community, we are delighted to see you and have you join us!

As you may know, we share a “New Year tradition” at CML where, instead of our usual monthly article, we each offer a personal guiding word for the year. You may have a similar tradition of your own. It’s not a resolution, as much as a guiding principle that can inform our growth this year with some intention.

We invite you to add your own word to ours by visiting our Facebook page and letting us know what you would like to invite into your life this year.

I also want to take just a bit of this space to offer my respect to one of our greatest teachers, Thich Nhat Hahn, who recently passed away. We extend our condolences to Plum Village, his beloved spiritual community in France, and to all those who were touched by his pure and loving essence.

His bright light illuminated the path for so many of us during the darkest of nights. His gentle spirit brought peace wherever he went, and will continue to do so through his teachings. I am so grateful for the many gifts he has left for us – we could easily spend several lifetimes trying to digest them all.

If you are unfamiliar with his work, I invite you to pick up one of his many books, pour over his beautiful calligraphy, or watch a video of his teaching, and let his gentle voice comfort and guide you home.

“I am a continuation, like the rain is a continuation of a cloud.”
~Thich Nhat Hahn

Blessings on your journey,
Louisa

December, 2021

12/31/2021

Note from Louisa

I hope that this finds you well, having enjoyed some rest over the last week. Though, if you’re like me, it has been anything but restful, and I look around me at the post-holiday clean-up that awaits with some dismay. Another year of pandemic Christmas takes its toll.

It seems crazy that we are still trying to find our way back to normalcy after almost two years. In truth, I wonder if perhaps we may have, in fact, landed at a new plateau. Our central nervous systems are telling us that we can no longer afford to stay at this high level of continuous activation. Our bodies are not designed to handle a constant state of fight, flight, or freeze. On top of it all, CNS dysregulation for an extended period has been linked to a myriad of health concerns, both physical and psychological.

Of course we need that burst of energy when we have to escape the charging lion and reach safety before recalibrating, allowing the system to settle back down to pre-crisis levels. But we’ve been activated and engaged for the past two years just trying to pick up groceries, navigate child care, or to figure out how to maintain safe connections with those we love.

We are all prone to decision fatigue, a sense of hopelessness, tension in our relationships, and a disruption to our sense of purpose. Yet, we can’t afford to think of this in black and white terms. We cannot just pretend that the threat has passed. We do need to remain vigilant. The crisis is neither over, nor can we afford to stay in a perpetual state of hyper vigilance.

So as the pandemic does not have a clear expiration date, how can we help our central nervous system disengage from “The End is Nigh” setting and find its way back to some sense of order, purpose, and stability?

How do we reconcile the design of the central nervous system to react to threat, with the psychological need to give the body a break and experience some extended periods of low level threat?

Well, here’s the hard part… (as if the rest has been a walk in the park). While our bodies respond to threat immediately, dumping stress hormones into our systems to help us see better, run faster, pump blood and breathe more efficiently, the de-escalation takes a lot longer.

Think of it as a switch that gets suddenly flipped on to get us to safety, and a dial that is slowly turned down in order to get back to our baseline. You can see how easy it is to get reactivated and back up to DefCon 1 in the process of disengagement.

My not-so-secret weapon these past months has been community. Finding others with whom you can share this experience will help keep you from either becoming a doomsayer, or ignoring a potential real threat. Talking and listening to how others are managing, and sharing the burden of this time, can help ease our sense of isolation and pessimism. Even if we are all feeling helpless together, our sense of connection offers us some perceived resilience.

As social creatures, our central nervous systems are responsive to one another. If you find yourself anxious or afraid, reach out to a friend who is feeling grounded. Even if you don’t discuss your fear directly, a process of co-regulation occurs, allowing you to “borrow” a bit of their calm and stability. Yes, even online.

For the coming year at CML, we will be working to increase space for community through our sitting groups and study groups, as well as online workshops and retreats to help you stay connected, grounded, and healthy. Please take a moment to help your depleted central nervous system out by identifying a few other activities you can engage in to help you co-regulate, and in turn help others to ease their overwrought nervous systems.

We can all use the extra assist right now.

Blessings for healing in 2022,
Louisa

November, 2021

11/30/2021

Note from Louisa

I have made it a habit, this time of year, to pause and recognize all of those that have lent their energy and gifts to making The Center for Mindful Living a vibrant and compassionate healing community. I invite you to take a moment to read their names and, if you have ever had an experience of insight, peace, or restoration within our walls, please know that their contributions, though frequently unsung, played a role in your journey.

My deepest thanks go out to my colleague, Laura Crosby who, along with fellow facilitators, Dan Weidner, Aaron Weiner, and Katie Hupp, hold the space that allow our practice to be regular and sustained in these challenging days. Laura also facilitates the study group, which for years now, has made contemporary writings and teachings accessible to our community for discussion and growth.

I also want to recognize Christina Murphy, who works behind the scenes as our marketing and social media Goddess, bringing you this newsletter every month, as well as the mid-month musings, and helps us keep the CML community connected and informed.

Of course, the heart of CML began as a therapeutic space and we are so blessed to have the talents of our compassionate clinicians, Pamela Mueggenberg, Kara Cavel, and our newest addition, Jenna Lopez, to help ease the suffering of those who seek support and understanding. Each of these women embody the essence of learning, wisdom, and tenderness, and I learn from them every day.

Thank you to Alma and Mireya, who keep our space so beautifully for us, and to Blake who makes sure that we don’t trip and break something of import on the ice.

On behalf of all of us at CML, I want to acknowledge all of our teachers, guides, and mentors who have shown us the path, and gently redirected us when we stray or get distracted. We are also grateful to our families and loved ones, who have helped to shape and supported us as we become more and more ourselves.

Mostly, I want to thank you, Beloved Member of the CML community.

Thank you for making our community vibrant and alive with your presence and curiosity about yourself and the world. Thank you for keeping the meditation cushions warm (even virtually), the therapy sessions rich, and/or loving yourself enough to learn about self-compassion. Thank you for being so courageous in walking the path with us. Thank you for reading this newsletter.

And thank you for all of your support of our efforts, and for your willingness to share of yourself and your wisdom to help make our space, and our world, a better place.

Gratitude and Blessings on your journey,
Louisa

October, 2021

10/30/2021

A Note from Louisa

When I read Laura’s article for this month’s issue (“I got you”, found below), I was so moved. (In fact, you may want to start this month’s issue of the newsletter at the bottom and work your way back up in reverse order.) This beautiful concept, skillfully laid out by Laura’s hand, made me wonder about the scale of kindness.

By that, I mean how do we recognize tenderness, love and support from others? Hollywood and television often show these attributes on a grand, larger than life scale. Marriage proposals streaming across Jumbotrons at the game, people paying off the mortgages or student loan debts of strangers, auditoriums full of people applauding the protagonist’s moment of courage. All grand gestures that move us to catharsis with the swelling orchestration of the soundtrack and the reassurance that everything will be neatly resolved before the ending credits.

In truth, our lives are quite different. Opportunity for such magnanimous gestures present themselves rarely, are impractical, and may be unwelcomed by the recipient. These acts can seem performative, over the top even, in real life. One can’t help but wonder, who does the act serve? The intended recipient or the ego of the giver?

But quiet acts of compassion can move mountains, or even save lives.

Just the reminder that we are not alone on this journey of being human is so powerful. Knowing that someone sees us, in our vulnerability, and wants to help ease our distress - if only by simply naming it - that authentic recognition is the seed of compassion.

The beauty is that not much is asked of us in this task. We don’t need to have a lot of money, we don’t need to know the perfect poetic words to utter, or even be able to offer solutions for the problem at hand.

In one of the most powerful acts of compassion that I’ve experienced, no words were ever exchanged. Our common humanity resided in a gentle hand covering my own as I wept silently. The embrace of a stranger whose name I will never know, and don’t really need to know because her identity was less important than her willingness to witness my suffering and remind me that I am not alone. In that moment, she was not a stranger. The demographic categories that would “define her” were irrelevant, as were mine.

We were simply being human together. Recognizing the shared humanity in one another.

Today, we are invited to practice a quiet compassion. Smiling eyes, a kind word, a gentleness that may seem small to you, but may truly impact the experience of another. In today’s world, where we listen to argue, we see to judge, we engage to win, what quiet act could be more profound?

Blessings on your journey,
Louisa

September 2021

9/30/2021

A Note from Louisa

Last Wednesday, we celebrated the Autumnal Equinox in the Northern Hemisphere. For many, this engenders a mix of excitement and dread as we begin our descent into winter. Every year, at this time, I don my cheerleading garb and head to the field to promote the virtues of winter.

It is natural for us to fear the darkness. Clarity can feel more elusive and we feel more vulnerable in the dark. Life is harder – though not nearly as hard as it was for our ancestors, who did not enjoy central heating, and whose winter hunting grounds did not include a Baker’s or Hy-Vee.

Yes, life is more of a challenge in the darkness and cold. However, it offers us a richness that can only be found by turning our attention inward and tending to our spirit and community for survival, just as our ancestors did.

As the days grow shorter on our trajectory toward the Winter Solstice, we must challenge ourselves to remember our natural rhythms and reclaim those that have not yet been obliterated by our modern 24/7 lives.

Fall is a time of dormancy, as we move toward the deep rest of winter. This is admittedly hard to feel in our bodies when our only connection to fall and winter is one of dread.

However, dormancy is a necessary stage in the process of generativity. If the ground is left to fallow after a growing cycle, depleted nutrients are restored and the land can recover. The next growing season will benefit from a period of restoration.

Our modern sensibilities tend to pathologize this period of rest, failing to see the restorative and necessary nature of not constantly producing yield. It is another element of our culture that is predicated on sustaining an economic model, rather than caring for the needs of the populace.

I wonder if perhaps we are now listening in a different way to what our spirits need?

Many people have found the pandemic provides us with opportunity to disrupt our regular externally-driven cycles in order to listen to our own internal rhythms, as well as to those of nature.

Perhaps, if we are still working from home, we may better understand the tempo of fall and winter? Pacing ourselves according to the light and the opportunities to “hunker down” to a period of rest and self-reflection.

How might we benefit from understanding fall, with its crisp chill to the air and colorful display of foliage, as a preparation for the coming winter? Even in modern day, we need this transition between the external activity of the summer to make sure that the stores are full and can support us as we turn our attention inward in the contemplative silence of the winter.

What preparations do you need to make?

Blessings on your journey,

Louisa

August 2021

8/30/2021

As I sit to write these words, Bill Withers is playing over my speakers, singing his classic “Lean on Me”. Every time I hear this song, when I really can stop to take in the lyrics, it brings tears to my eyes. It’s just one of those songs that can instantly call to mind the gift of community.

If there is a load you have to bear
That you can't carry
I'm right up the road
I'll share your load
If you just call me

We have never needed community more, or been more creative and resourceful in getting that need met, despite limitations and restrictions. How industrious human beings can be! How else might we get through the demands and challenges of modern life, if not in the company and support of one another?

This blessing works both ways though, leaving us feeling more adrift and bewildered than ever at those times when community feels elusive or inaccessible. More and more, I hear stories of discord among once tight communities of friends and family, because we have lost the shared narrative that kept us together.

The difficulties we currently face might serve to pull us apart superficially, but perhaps there is an invitation to a deeper conversation about the underlying values that we are trying to protect with our posturing? Perhaps that deeper conversation, on the level of values, not ego or identity, might help us once more find common, healing ground?

I have been challenging myself to speak less and listen more to those whose views differ from mine. By allowing for some stillness, I can better listen for those common threads that hint to what we all ultimately long for: safety, sovereignty, belonging, love.

This has become a spiritual practice for me and keeps me engaged with those whom I might disagree with and even seek to avoid. It is far too easy to retreat to my own echo chamber where I am right, surrounded by those who share my world view. There, if I choose, I can become hardened and callous.

However, this does nothing to further my own evolution. Insisting I’m right, doesn’t help me to practice acceptance, or compassion, or to keep my self-righteousness in check. Like every practice, there is a learning curve and I am not always successful. But I have had conversation or two, where I once I might only have felt sadness, anger or resentment.

Perhaps, you might join me in trying this spiritual practice for yourself? I’d love to hear what you discover.

Blessings on your journey,
Louisa

June 2021

6/30/2021

A Note from Louisa

I recently had one of those difficult experiences during which, while comforting a friend, I felt absolutely helpless. The story she recounted had that epic quality, and her despair and loss were great. As I listened to her, I decided that the only thing I could really offer her was my presence, hoping that she would feel seen, heard, and loved.

While listening, I also became aware of her tremendous compassion and her capacity to see the narrative as an evolving part of her life story, pointing her toward new challenges and growth. I could sense my admiration for her deepening and wondered if I would have met a similar moment in my own life with such awareness and resolve.

As we parted, she hugged me and thanked me, saying that she felt better. The strange thing was that as I listened to her unpack her story, share her reactions, and decide on a course of action, I also felt better. I felt emboldened by her courage and fortitude, and a little less fearful that events of such magnitude are simply insurmountable.

This month, Kara writes of “vicarious resilience”, the positive effect on those that witness the healing and growth of others. Therapists have long been aware of the joy of watching the transformation of others. For me, it reinforces the communal nature of the human experience, and the ingenious way our mirror neurons allow us to share the pain and triumph of being human, dispelling our isolation, and allowing us to be one another’s most valuable resource. When we are “in it together”, we truly all benefit.

Blessings on your journey,
Louisa