So, I just returned from a meditation retreat in upstate New York.  The serene setting and wonderful teachings helped me unwind a little bit and learn more about the nature of the mind.  My next few posts will include reflections based on the retreat and my reintegration into the city.

For starters, I thought folks might be interested in learning what happens during a meditation retreat.  Not surprisingly, the focus is on meditation, though its structure and content will vary depending on the orientation of the center and teachers.  This retreat was led by Buddhist teachers–Jack Kornfield, Trudy Goodman, and Shauna Shapiro–who focused on vipassana meditation.  This meditation is focused on cultivating mindfulness through awareness of the breath.  They also taught us meditations to promote loving-kindness, joy, compassion, and equanimity (a.k.a., the brahma-viharas).  I estimate that there were about 200 participants.

Our daily schedule was as follows:

• Meditation (7-8 am)
• Breakfast (8 – 9 am)
• Meditation (9 – noon)
• Lunch and free time (noon – 2:30 pm)
• Meditation (2:30 – 5 pm)
• Dinner and free time (5 – 7:30 pm)
• Meditation (7:30 – 9 pm)

Before you get intimidated (or enticed) by the 9 hours of meditation time, I should mention that it includes explicit meditation (seated and walking), presentations by the teachers (sometimes with Q&A), and opportunities to meet in small groups.  Typically, any particular hour would have 20 minutes of presentation or discussion, 20 minutes of seated meditation, and 20 minutes of walking meditation.

Personally, I welcomed the opportunity to rededicate myself more intensively to meditation, though it was certainly not easy.  The first two days, my shoulders spasmed frequently as I slowly relaxed.  My knees and back ached during the seated meditations.  I used my own cushion (zafu) in order to sit on the floor, but others meditated by sitting in chairs or even lying down.  Of course, my mind also took a couple days in order to quite down.  Initially, I worried over the world that I left behind.  This was the first time in 5 years that I truly “unplugged” by denying myself access to e-mail, computers, internet, and phone.  And, I imagined what might be happening as I was away.  Fortunately, these thoughts dissipated, and I had an opportunity to witness other aspects of my mind.  I realized that–like most of us–my thoughts generally fell into a few categories, like different T.V. channels.  There were a variety of shows and episodes, but thematically most of the “programs” were surprisingly consistent.  So, I decided to group them, and gave them numbers.  So far, I only have three mental channels, and I try to notice whenever my thoughts reflect them.  Earlier today, I was immersed in thinking about something when suddenly I told myself:  Channel One!

Jack Kornfield reflected on how boring it would be for others if they were privvy to most of our day-to-day thoughts.  He wondered what would happen if tiny speakers were hooked into our brains, broadcasting our thoughts to the people around us.  Can you imagine?

While there are many things that I learned from the retreat, I find myself needing more time for reflection.  As an experience, the retreat was a little like Thanksgiving dinner.  There are many different things to try–or experiences to be had–with little time to digest them fully.  Given how fast things were moving (we were introduced to over a dozen different meditations over the 5 days), I felt myself getting a little woozy and logi.  I wish that I could have paused the retreat at various points as I considered and immersed myself in different experiences.  However, I now can return to the areas that were meaningful and important for me.

Overall, I would recommend a meditation retreat to people who are looking to deepen or reinvigorate their contemplative practice.  Working with the mind and body through meditation is not particularly relaxing, so it’s not for everyone.  Visiting a spa or going on vacation are much more effective ways to unwind quickly, especially if you’re simply looking to take a well-deserved break.

It’s hot and humid, and I’m poised to be leaving for a meditation retreat for a few days.  Before I leave, I wanted to say a few words about the weather lately.

In NYC, it’s been unseasonably hot. We’re sweaty, sticky, and uncomfortable, which provides a wonderful opportunity for complaining. For some reason, we almost compulsively need to let other people know just how dissatisfied we are. Indeed, I think it constitutes a bonding experience for many people. At such times–whenever we feel distressed in some way–we have a natural tendency to dwell on it both mentally and in conversation. And, correspondingly, these “bad” things take on extra weight and importance. It’s easy to neglect other aspects of the present moment that are (1) going well and (2) neither good nor bad. Further, we can (3) gloss over subtle variations in the “badness” of what we complain about.

Things Going Well?

So, what might be going well on a hot and humid day? Many things! You might even be inside, enjoying a cool breeze from the air conditioner, yet you’re complaining about the weather? In that moment, you’re actually feeling just fine…if you let yourself feel it. It reminds me of an observation from the Zen monk, Thich Nhat Hahn, who noted the pleasantness of not having a toothache.  And for us New Yorkers, who hasn’t appreciated the cool, air conditioned cars of the subway?

Further, there are many nice things associated with late summer. How about tomatoes and other warm weather crops, like corn, cucumbers, peppers? Farmers markets and grocery stores abound with all kinds of delicious goodies. And, because they’re in season, they are also less expensive than other times of the year. Appreciating crops might not be a particular “in the moment” experience, at least until you’re enjoying a tasty caprese or eating corn that you don’t need to cook because it’s so sweet. (If I can be permitted to summon my inner gardener as an aside:  for both of these vegetables, you should eat them ASAP. Tomatoes taste sweetest at the instant they’re sliced; even a half-hour can introduce some bitterness. Corn, in turn, slowly becomes starchy after it’s picked. Ideally, you would eat it on the same day.  Don’t believe me?  Then, do some mindful eating experiments!)

Neutrality isn’t just for the Swiss

And things that are neither good nor bad (or both)? There’s a lot of that, too. The color of my neighbor’s car is not particularly important to me, for example. Like the humidity, it’s very real, especially as I walk by. What’s a better place to be mentally? Cursing the weather or simply noting the car’s paint job?

Subtle Shades of Crappy

Often, we aggrandize or over-emphasis our distress in ways that preclude noticing variations in our experience. We tell ourselves that something is awful, then we miss out on something that might be as bad as we think. For example, one of the exercises in Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction, a therapy program for chronic pain developed by Dr. Jon Kabat-Zinn, involves a careful, slow body scan. Through this process, people are able to recognize that many areas of their body feel just fine. Similarly, in summertime, we might miss the somatic experience of walking into shade, if we’re too preoccupied by damning the harsh sunlight.

Hey, isn’t mindfulness about “nonjudging”? What’s all this talk of “good” and “bad”?

Yes, mindfulness is all about accepting the present moment without judgment, criticism, or even celebration. We simply rest our attention on our immediate experience. In doing so, we help avoid the chronic cycle of resisting what’s painful and holding onto what’s enjoyable.  So, please forgive my brief use of judgmental language for the sake of linguistic convenience (and making it to my retreat on time).  In any case, I encourage you to bring your full attention to whatever you’ve prejudged to be good or bad, like the hot and humid weather. Allow yourself to see other aspects of the experience that might run counter to what you expected. Through this practice, we begin to broaden our awareness of what’s happening now, and ultimately develop a more nuanced appreciation for the ephemeral nature of life.

For the next several days, I will be “unplugged” for the first time in over 3 years:  no internet, no e-mail, and no voicemail.  I’ll share my reflections on the experience when I return.

Like many of us, I have a love-hate relationship with the city. For much of the year, it seems like a lot of effort goes out just to manage the noise, crowds, and challenges city life presents. It is hard to be mindful in the midst of a lot of tension. Tension (mental, physical, emotional) distracts us and depletes us of energy. Funny thing about making the effort to be mindful, it requires relaxation to open to the experience in front of you. But somehow, every year, things seem to transform after Memorial Day weekend…

I love the city in the summer. When everyone is packing up the cars, getting on the bus or running to the train to escape the concrete canyon for a weekend away, that is my cue to stay put.

You can get tickets for any movie at any time in the summer. No problem with a table at a restaurant or a stool at the bar. There are seats on the subway, and space to breathe on the sidewalks. Let’s not forget the obscene abundance of parking spaces and decreased traffic. But the best part of the summer in the city for me is the free events and art… music at Prospect Park, Summer Stage or the central park drum circle, midsummer night swing, free movies on the piers, ping-pong in Bryant Park, art shows, crafts fairs, cultural celebrations and the public art installations around the city. These are the things that help me to take notice, pay attention, and relax just a little bit and experience city life a bit more fully.

The other day, walking to the train from work, I was reminded of this when I stopped in my tracks on 23rd street. Someone was standing on top of a building at Broadway, right on the edge about 15 stories up. I got a bit scared. He was standing so still. I wondered if he was contemplating jumping or just meditating! Around me, no one else seemed be concerned. But then I noticed a couple of tourists looking up at another building, where there was an identical man, standing, watching over Madison Square Park. And then I see there was another, and another, and another. Have you seen them? An art installation of Antony Gormley’s “Event Horizon.” They look so present, so peaceful, mindful warriors overseeing the city. The unexpected gems of city life, such as this art installation, always manage to make me stop, get out of my head and connect to the joy of city life.

I thought that we could share some of our favorite summer experiences here on Urban Mindfulness, to help us all find new ways to relax into city life and enjoy the ride with a bit more presence. Please share any special “stop you in your tracks” moments you’ve had lately. Enjoy the summer!

For info about public art in the city and summer events see:

http://www.nycgovparks.org/art

http://www.nycgovparks.org/events/

http://www.publicartfund.org/

This coming Monday, I’ll be giving a talk on Buddhism and Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) at the Interdependence Project in NYC.  Both ACT and Buddhism heavily incorporate mindfulness, and I promise that it will be an interesting (and helpful) presentation.  If you’re familiar with it, the ID Project is also a wonderful community of people interested in practicing meditation and other secular aspects of Buddhism.  For more details, please click this link:  The Interdependence Project.  Hope to see you there!

Yesterday, the New York Times ran a front page article on how technology can serve as a distraction, and potentially decrease our ability to pay attention at other times.  Check out the article here:  NY Times on Techno-Distraction.

Its a very interesting article, and particularly ironic to be published on the same day that Apple announces a multitasking feature for the next iPhone.  However, like most devices or technology, the problem lies not in its existence, but rather how we use it.  Despite popular belief to the contrary, we can use our gadgets mindfully.  In fact, there are even phone applications for the practice of meditation and mindfulness.  Personally, I try to do one thing at a time, which isn’t always easy.  If I’m writing an article (or blog post), then I strive to finish it before I start checking e-mail, returning phone calls, etc.  Often, I can feel the urge to abandon what I’m doing in order to refresh my inbox or do some research on a seemingly vital topic that I just invented.  Like the thoughts and feelings that arise during meditation, distractions come frequently during everyday life.  If we’re not careful, we can end up mindlessly flowing from one activity to the next.  In order to realize (and correct) this process, you might want to keep a record of what you’re doing hourly during the day.  You’ll likely be surprised with the results.

Present moment waiting may sound paradoxical but it doesn’t have to be.

Reporting live from JFK:

I woke up at 3 am for a 6 am flight that was delayed until 8am.  I could perseverate on my lost sleep, fatigue, shoulder pain, etc. or I can just accept, here I am.  Initially, this is challenging, after all, it is 5 am! I take a seat and think about times I’ve spent waiting in train stations, terminals, and traffic.

Generally, while waiting, we are pulled to compulsively check our watches, double check the accuracy of the time with our phones, let our minds run. What if we just take a moment to breathe and enjoy the respite? Here we are, no where to go.

After sitting for some time, I look at pages of magazines and browse the bestsellers table in the book store.   Time seems to move when I’m not trying to force it or adding judgment (e.g., I shouldn’t have to wait).  I decide 6:30 am is as good a time as any to buy a piece of chocolate and genuinely savor each bite.  Previously, I had considered rushing and waiting to be equally nefarious.  Now, I wonder if I have to wait, why not just be where I am?

If anyone is going to the Book Expo America (BEA) at the Javitz Center in NYC tomorrow, please come by and introduce yourself to me. I’ll be signing galleys of my forthcoming book, Urban Mindfulness: Cultivating Peace, Presence, and Purpose in the Middle of It All, from 11 – noon at Table 9 in the Autographing Area. Hope to see you there!

Later this week, I am going to a press meeting with the Dalai Lama who is visiting NYC. Most likely, I’ll ask him to elaborate on the distinction between urban and rural challenges to mindfulness and compassion, which he discussed at a conference last year. However, I thought that I would see if any UM readers had compelling questions to pose. So, if you could ask the Dalai Lama one question, what would it be?

Last week, I went to one of Sharon Salzberg’s talks here in NYC.  I always enjoy learning from her, and I was particularly struck by a phrase that she used when discussing mindfulness:

“It’s not about what happens, but rather our relationship to it.”

So, in other words, it’s not about the fact that the bus crowded, but rather how we relate to that reality (i.e., what judgments and critical statements might rattle around in our heads).  Similarly, it’s not about the fact that it’s raining right now, but rather how we feel about the rain in that moment.  Through the practice of mindfulness, we cultivate the ability to notice our reactions and judgments, which creates some emotional space.  We find a way to feel better by giving-up on wanting it to be otherwise.  It prompts us to accept an unchangeable reality or take some appropriate action.  So, if it’s crowded, I can decide to focus on listening to my music or meditate or observe something special about each person around me.  If it’s raining, I can decide to wait until it stops or take an umbrella or consider the rain in a different way.  All of these other possibilities can be realized in the present moment, once we have the presence of mind to do so.

New Yorkers have had a very scary and stressful week. On a prematurely summer-like, Saturday night in May, Faisal Shahzad deposited a car bomb in the middle of Times Square. The cliched “Crossroads of the World” became the unwanted arena of another spectacle of attempted urban terrorism. Fortunately, no one was hurt or killed, but an entire city held its collective breath while waiting to see just how serious a threat this smoking car was to the safety of New Yorkers.

How do we learn to live in a city that is a prime target for such attacks? How do we apply mindfulness practices to help us cope with terrorism? Ever since the attack on the World Trade Center, I have been asking myself these questions. My experience tells me that mindfulness is a concept that is closely related to resiliency skills building. Resiliency involves cultivating flexibility, multiple perspectives, humor, and the discipline of staying in the present. All of these skills are crucial to mindful living.

When I heard about the car bomb in Times Square, my immediate response was panic. But I remembered to keep breathing and stay focused on this very second. I listened to the news and asked myself, “What would be the most effective action to take right now?” I figured out that the best thing for me to do was to wait and see and trust that those with a great deal more knowledge and information would do what needed to be done.

After 9/11, I worked as a counselor at Ground Zero. On this past Sunday, I decided that if there was a need for the services of counselors I would volunteer. Most importantly, focusing on what I could do to help served to calm me and empower me with the knowledge that I could “do something.”

Mindful resilience enables you to see yourself not as a victim, but as someone who has agency–even if this agency is solely about staying with your breathing in the moment. Feeling a vicitim is what is most disabling and feeds anxiety and fearfulness.

In the face of such danger, New Yorkers came together and pulled through. Gotham is a place of great resiliency and fortitude. Let us stay mindful and grateful for our good fortune this time.