Hers: First Day of Metta

First days are always exciting….first day of school, first day of a new job, first day of a yoga training, first day of sitting down with my husband to review his first self-created yoga sequence (still waiting on that one, but I know it’s coming and I hear it’s fantastic)...

...first day of metta practice.

My normal meditation practice is a solid and consistent 10 minutes, which I recently increased to 15. I’ve been a bit concerned about adding another 5 minutes. Not because of the actual sitting, but the time it will take from all my other morning activities: the all so important reviewing of email, catching up on the night’s Facebook events, looking at my cat, wandering about the house, you know – important stuff. But being the exciting first day of metta practice, I was able to let all that other stuff go and begin this adventure.

The mind is so incredibly amazing at its ability to multi-task…

I eagerly take my seat and begin to recite my metta phrases, synchronizing them to my breath. Not more than 10 repetitions in I start to simultaneously contemplate what I might write about in my next blog entry, wonder if anyone has read it yet, or even better – commented. Then I move onto planning my next workshop, wondering what it will be like sharing my knowledge of class preparation with Gary only to return to exploring how my metta practice will manifest off the cushion. And on it goes….When I become conscious of my wandering mind, I turn to the practice of “muttering” – softly repeating my phrases aloud. It helps me to refocus. And then, I’ve come to the last bead, 108 repetitions done. Asana (yoga posture) practice to follow, reviewing what I’ll teach in my morning class.

And then off to work I go…

My classes go smoothly and as happens in most classes, I adjust what I teach to fit the students that arrive. This is always a practice in compassion, empathy, and patience. I offer modifications and adjustments to hopefully meet the needs of the injuries and limitations that abound in the room. As we come to our final posture, Savasana, I see that for some, the discomforts are still there, preventing the release that Savasana brings. I offer as much support as I can and then let them go to find their own way.

Once I sit, I find myself wondering what more I could do or could have done. It’s then that my metta phrases come to mind. I close my eyes and try to envision all of the bodies before me and silently repeat to myself, “May you be filled with loving- kindness. May you be well. May you be peaceful and at ease. May you be happy.” I repeat it maybe 5 – 6 times. I open my eyes and see all of these bodies lying on the ground, still, relaxed, at ease….

Hers: The Project

Not too long ago, my teacher gave a talk on that website, Yoga U. I was excited to listen to it, so excited that I upgraded my data plan to a 5G plan with a personal hotspot (no cable, so no Internet access at our house) just so I could listen to it.

It was a good talk, exploring the connection between the subtle and physical bodies. I think. Truth is, even though I took notes, there’s only one thing that I remember clearly from that talk. He said, “20% of the time that a person comes to sitting meditation practice should be dedicated to Metta.” 

I liked that. I can work with that. It gives me and my mind something to do. 2 out of 10 times on the cushion: Metta.

Metta, a Pali word that translates to loving-kindness, is a traditional, Buddhist based practice. It’s used to cultivate loving-kindness both inward and outward, toward ourselves and others. It consists of repeating a number of phrases meant to bring peace, ease, and well being in body, mind, and spirit. I first came across the word and practice in a book written by Jack Kornfield, A Path with Heart. I was moved by the concept and brought it into my own meditation practice. To this day, I use the phrases offered by Kornfield, “May I be filled with loving-kindness. May I be well. May I be peaceful and at ease. May I be happy.” 

My first experiences with Metta practice were quite powerful. As Kornfield suggested it might be, it was a bit awkward directing these sentiments toward myself. I remember the first time I sat reciting my phrases; there was such a resistance - like a wall between myself and what I was saying. Finally I gave into it; it was then that my breath caught, my stomach tightened, and tears began to push themselves out of my closed eyes. But I kept with it and, over time, was soon able to turn my attention to others: family, friends, acquaintances, even people who challenged me (read annoyed the h&%* out of me). As a result, a lightness began to fill me. Not just in sitting practice, but for hours after. I began to see people in a new and different way. A knowledge and understanding came from a place deep within me. A direct perception. We all suffer. We are all trying. We all matter. We all deserve wellness in body, peace in mind and heart, safety, happiness.

And then my practice began to wane. I moved on to new ideas, new ways of exploring my sitting practice: watching my breath, regulating my breath, focusing my attention on sounds or sensations. These were subtle changes, but changes nonetheless.

I think of my first experiences with Metta practice and its effects with fondness, and even a bit of wistfulness. I remember the feelings of compassion and empathy that seemed to so easily flow from within me. (And my husband can tell you that compassion is a trait that I could definitely work on…)

I now return to this practice. I return to it not with the idea of recreating my first experiences, as we all know first experiences happen only once. But, I’d like to do a little research, an experiment. Dr. Carrie Demers, medical director of the Himalayan Institute, has said that that’s all we are ever doing – experimenting, collecting new or more data and hopefully making wise decisions with the information we collect.

So here’s my experiment: 54 days straight of Metta meditation.  I know from past experience that if I use a full mala – 108 beads – and repeat two phrases on my inhale and two on my exhale with one bead counted per breath, my meditation will be approximately 18 minutes long. So that means 54 days of 18 minute Metta meditation. My data will be collected on and off the cushion throughout my days. My findings will be published here, perhaps just as an exercise for my fingers or maybe for some random eyes that cross this page. This is my Svadhayaya project. Well, part of it.......