Tag Archives: alertness

To Do and Not To Do

We all have to-do-lists.
Some of us may prefer not to bother writing them down and keep them in our heads. Others may have simple lists of tasks and commitments, jotting them down on paper or electronically so as not to forget. Others still, may have more elaborate systems with priorities and calendar functions with reminders. Lastly, there are those of us who use robust time-management tools and techniques, to not only stay on top of our to-dos but also to balance our life-work responsibilities and help us focus on short, medium, and long term goals. This is all very fine, but how much do our to-do-lists define our lives? And will we ever feel fulfilled by this seemingly never ending conveyor belt of activities?

Getting things done can be quite addictive as it gives us a sense of purpose, engages our problem solving minds and feels rewarding when we become better and better at juggling and keeping up with it all. The problem lies in that we may neglect its equally important polar opposite: not doing.

Doing nothing may sound boring or even unpleasant, yet I would like to argue here that it is not only necessary for our health and wellbeing but it may actually also be highly fulfilling. Whereas ‘doing’ deals with the measurable, ‘being’ dwells in the immeasurable.

There is an art of being idle, to take the time to enjoy the simple act of breathing, to contemplate the beauty of life and to adopt a child-like carefree alertness. These ‘acts of being’ are not reserved to the poets, philosophers and religious people – they are accessible to everyone.

With practice, we quickly recognise how good it feels to give ourselves a few moments of peace each day. Once we are able to put on hold all the things we have to do, even momentarily, we may touch a sense of freedom that we use to experience as children.

There is nothing wrong with the “to-do”s so long as they leave enough space for the “to-be”s

L.

Photo by Kai D.

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zen, not Zen

Piping Plover chick - Sandy Hook in Highlands, New Jersey.

To stop burying my head in the sand, to stand on my own two feet and to be consciously vulnerable. To be alert, listening and watching without thoughts. To breathe the change, mostly in silence. Such is my intention now.

Almost two years ago, I started a blog called ZenPlan. It was not about Zen Buddhism nor was it about planning. I combined the two words and chose that name to create a tension and to encapsulate what I was most interested in at the time.  Namely, being present, direct perception, intention, focus and spending my time wisely.

The main influence for starting writing a blog was an article by Leo Babauta entitled “Why You Should Write Daily”. I later came to appreciate his simple style and decided to emulate some of his writing. In many ways, Leo Babauta encourages people to use his ideas and he is a great believer in the concept of ‘uncopyright‘. Like him, I am also interested by some of the insights of Zen Buddhism but prefer not writing about religious teachings or meditation techniques. We all have many influences and it is valuable to acknowledge them, yet it is equally important to learn to find one’s voice and to communicate authentically. Is it possible to write freshly about old questions, about something someone else has already chewed on? Language, thoughts, ideas all come from the past but can take a life of their own once they are breathed upon with an alert mind. I also like paradoxes, for they can destabilise our reasoning. They can provoke a temporary blank. This is what I mean by zen, not Zen.

Last May, when I launched this present blog, as well as writing new material, I decided to rewrite almost all the old entries from the ZenPlan blog. It was interesting to revisit the posts that I wrote when I was in Bali. It was like reading letters from an old friend and to my surprise I found them stimulating and happy to share them again.

I am now ready to let go of Leo Babauta’s influence and of zen for that matter. My current enquiry is concerned with freeing the mind from thought and focusing on attention. Nonchalantly,  I could call it Thoughtless, not thoughtless!

Breather*

Photo: Ray Hennessy

 

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Still happy

Still happy

Around this time last year, my son and I arrived back home – after having spent 14 months abroad – travelling from Britain to Bali overland and back. The memories of that trip and the wonderful experiences we lived, put a grin on my face. This past year, in comparison, has been much less adventurous, yet I am still happy. Just like the weather – and everything else in this world for that matter, – I know that this happiness is just transient. This present state of well-being made me want to re-post an article on the nature of happiness and why most of us so frequently feel dissatisfied.

So why am I happy? I could easily list a large number of wonderful things that I am grateful for. I could also rationalise that it is due to good health. I am currently in Barcelona on a four-weeks yoga teacher training course (eating some of the most succulent peaches) and I have not felt that healthy in years. Being surrounded by people that I get along with, good sleep, wholesome food, regular exercise, meditation and time to contemplate are conditions that generally tend to put me in a good mood and contribute to my wellbeing. Culturally, there seems to be a deeply ingrained belief that happiness is brought on by external conditions, yet is that truly all there is to it?

Let’s look at the source of our discontentment for it may reveal something else about happiness. Sometimes I feel spoilt, and that all the good things that come my way will never satisfy an inner sense of sadness and fragmentation. It is clear that one can become frustrated at almost anyone or anything, that one can feel down by the state of the world and the destructive actions of our civilisation, that people who are close to us can suffer and make us suffer, that the mind is constantly in need of solving (and creating) problems and that we are rarely satisfied by what we have, where we are, who we are with and what we do. There seems to be in humans a discordance which leads to conflict, loneliness and harm regardless of how rich, healthy and successful we are. It is often assumed that the problems we have at hand whether it be circumstantial, relational, financial or health related are the sources of our unhappiness, but is it the case?

It may be important here to go into the difference between conditional happiness and a deeper sense of wellbeing which I prefer to call contentment. When we eat an ice-cream or a good fruit, we usually feel happy, but the feeling is usually short lived. When we feel loved and appreciated, we also tend to feel very good, but here again, we may easily get used to it or it may be shadowed by its opposite. So this type of happiness will constantly fluctuate and be at the mercy of changing circumstances. Things get a little more complicated when our minds start to want to control the world around us for the pursuit of happiness. This tends to lead to frustration for we may fall in a constant state of wanting to become something we are not. On the other hand, staying with ‘what is’ regardless of what it is and being truly present can nurture a form of contentment that is unconditional and wholesome.

We have probably all heard of exceptional human beings who in some of the worse circumstances and against all odds, remained peaceful and content. We probably also all have glimpsed in our own lives moments of unconditional happiness. Could it be that this quality is linked to a conscious state of being truly alive and alert?

So, if someone were to ask me today “why are you happy?”, I would simply have to answer “because I am alive”.

Breather*

Photo: Ian Baldwin

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