Mending Walls and Mindful Drivers

By Susan Vitti, Ph.D.

In his poem, Mending Wall, Robert Frost’s neighbor relates, “Good fences good neighbors make” but Frost’s narrative character is not satisfied with this response. “Something there is that doesn’t love a wall” he mischievously challenges, ultimately questioning what’s being walled in or walled out in the construction of such an obvious boundary. I was reminded of these lines from Frost’s poem by two separate but somehow related incidents involving drivers safely hidden behind the border of a car windshield engaging in what looked like some mighty onerous behavior. In urban life, I thought, walls, fences and other boundaries are not only preferred, but often purposefully constructed. Sometimes, they’re not solid and external but rather, internal and intangible.

During one of these experiences, I was driving through the Mid-town tunnel when the cab driver next to me began vigorously engaging his car horn and making hand signals with his left hand. He had rolled down his window and he was clearly yelling towards me. The moment left me feeling annoyed and confused and validated some negative beliefs about New York cab drivers. As I exited the tunnel, however, I tentatively looked over at the other driver expecting to see more anger. His facial expression, however, displayed concern not anger. In that moment I realized, my headlights were off and he was simply trying to be a good citizen and alert me to this.

In another incident, I was visiting The Old Dutch Church in Sleepy Hollow, NY. I was standing in the historic cemetery of the church on a late autumn day, gazing on Washington Irving’s gravestone, when an SUV came along the narrow road and began honking its horn. I assumed the driver, who I could not see through the glare of the glass, wanted me out of his way so he could drive through. I was, I must admit, slightly annoyed. I moved yet the driver continued honking and honking until finally, I walked over to see what the problem was. Inside this large imposing SUV was a sweet and somewhat frail gentleman, the local historian who wanted to alert me to the location of other gravestones of interest in the cemetery. After parking his truck to the side, he proceeded to give me a private, guided tour filled with charming and little known facts about the area’s famous authors and Revolutionary War luminaries. It turned out to be a wonderful afternoon spent in the company of a truly lovely person!

It’s not uncommon, when there’s room for interpretation, for us to assume that another person’s behavior is intended to impinge on us, impede us or generally frustrate us in our endeavors. Living and working in an urban environment only seems to cement these beliefs and offers an even greater challenge to our ability to cultivate a non-judgmental and open mind when faced with the behavior of the other humans around us. When we rush to assumptions and label the behavior of others as good or bad, we may foreclose on the opportunity to really see each other’s good intentions. In her book, Loving Kindness, Tara Brach states that “the difference between misery and happiness depends on what we do with our attention”. These experiences, turned out to be wonderful lessons in how true that statement is.

Can you think of a time when your judgment clouded your view of another person’s intention?

The Art of Non-Doing

By Melissa Kirk, Guest Blogger from the West Coast

In yoga class last week, the instructor talked a lot about “non-doing.” She encouraged us to do the poses, exerting only as much effort as was needed, and no more. Did you know sometimes we try to hold poses with our face? It’s true! If you do yoga, pay attention to how you tighten your jaw and mouth, and even the muscles around your eyes, when in a difficult pose. If you don’t do yoga, pay attention to your facial muscles anyway and notice when you tense them. We don’t normally notice these little tensions, but they’re there. In class, I practiced doing the poses but relaxing all the muscles I didn’t actually need in the poses. I started with my facial muscles, then muscles in the limbs that didn’t need to be in exertion right then. Then the neck, the forehead, the back, even the fingers. When I did this,  the poses seemed more effortless, I was calmer and my breathing was slower, and I almost felt like parts of my body were floating, while other parts were rooted to the floor.

The next day, I was driving to work when I noticed that my left leg and foot, the ones that don’t need to do anything while driving, were tense.  I was hunched over in the seat and the area in between my shoulder blades was tense trying to hold me up, and I was even tense in my lips.  Taking the yoga lesson to heart, I untensed all these muscles that didn’t need to be tensed in that moment. I relaxed my left leg and foot. I relaxed my lips and jaw, even my forehead. I sat up straighter and let my spine fall into its natural shape. As I drove, I kept effort in my right leg and foot, my hands on the wheel, and my eyes and neck as I looked around me to see what other drivers were doing. But the rest of me was relaxed and calm; ready to spring into action, but content to sit on the sidelines for the moment. I felt a sensation like the parts that were doing the action were flowing in a river of energy; their effort was, in a way, effortless.

The concept of “non-doing” is an important one, especially for us city-dwellers. We tend to be “doing” most of the time, and then when we’re “not doing”, we’re sacked out in front of the TV.  But what if we practiced noticing the effort we’re making that we don’t need to be, even in the moments when we’re “doing”? I’m talking about more than just noticing ourselves multitasking, though. I’m talking about noticing physical, mental, and energetic effort. The next time you’re on the phone at work, can you notice what the rest of your body is doing, the parts that aren’t holding the phone or actively talking? You might find that you’re tapping your fingers, kicking your leg, playing with a piece of paper, or seated in a twisted position so that your body needs to put in extra effort to keep you upright. Part of you might be scanning e-mail, and your mind might be thinking about another project.  You might feel vaguely anxious or worried. Meanwhile, part of you is talking on the phone, and, I imagine, sounding pretty coherent.

Try this: just notice, in your daily life, what parts of you are making necessary effort, and what parts are making unnecessary effort. Then see if you can relax the parts that don’ t need to be engaged in that moment. If you’re talking to a friend, can you notice the parts of you that are thinking of that fight you had with your partner, and about how you forgot to buy cat food? The foot you’re tapping on the floor, and the way you’re playing with your fingers? And then can you gently, compassionately, let those go and come back to being with your friend?

At work, as you’re doing one task, can you recognize the part of you that’s mad at your coworker who was rude to you last week, or worried about the upcoming performance reviews (or even happy that you got that raise or that your supervisor is pleased with your report)? And can you gently let that go and be where you are with whatever project you’re working on?

The thing I find so intriguing about this exercise is that it reminds us to pay attention to our whole experience, which gets us living in the moment, and makes us curious about ourselves, how we react – physically and mentally - in situations. It encourages us to be mindful of not only our mental processes, but also of our bodies.

When we’re only exerting as much effort as is needed and not holding tension in the rest of us, it gives us a chance to relax and be calm and steady even when life is swirling around us. In my yoga class, and driving, when I let go of the tension that was unnecessary, I felt in flow, relaxed yet alert, and gently but firmly in control. There was no part of me that was fighting the situation. Give it a try sometime!

======================

Melissa is a writer, editor, and blogger who blogs at http://honeybtemple2.blogspot.com/. She is an acquisitions editor at New Harbinger Publications, and lives in the San Francisco Bay Area.

City Drivers Interbeing

By Jennifer Egert, Ph.D.

I was recently given a great gift: a hand-me-down car. I haven’t owned a car in over 10 years, not since coming back home to the city from graduate school. Driving in the city is always a trip. It is kind of like a video game, all the unexpected objects darting out from different corners, other cars around you driving close, speeding up to cross over 3 lanes to make that right turn that you don’t want to miss. I had always thought about driving in the city as offensive rather than defensive, “every man/woman for him or herself!”  But driving recently, I realized that it is much more collaborative than I thought, much more interdependent, drivers “inter-being.”

“Interbeing” refers to an inherent interdependence of all things. It refers to the web of life and how all of our actions can have consequences for the greater world and world community. What does this have to do with driving? Well, as I was making my way through Times Square, it was pretty hectic. Trucks double parked, making deliveries, taxis darting in an out of cars going too slow, tourists not sure how to navigate the crosswalks, cyclists weaving through the cars. But it worked. No car crashes. No one hurt crossing the street or riding a bike. The drivers just knew the dance, how to negotiate the rugged terrain of the pot-holes, how to avert disaster with the perfect swerve. It struck me that city life is a lot like that. Millions of people somehow making it through, day to day, riding the trains, waiting on lines, avoiding traffic, not bumping into each other despite the 50 people sharing the sidewalk with you. This awareness sure made me appreciate my fellow New Yorkers more and perhaps even gave me a little more patience for the very, very slow driving guy from Georgia. Just a little…

There is an “interbeing” of city life, an ecosystem that we all contribute to. How much do we see that? How much do we pay attention? I am not usually aware of this connection in the flow of city life, but a car helped me to be more mindful of just that this week. What would it be like if we all carried the awareness of interbeing in our city life?