Chapter 12
THE FIRST HALF of this book was devoted to a series of exercises designed to build the basic skill set for finding your felt sense. In the previous two chapters, we took a brief look at some of the theory underlying Mindful Focusing, adding the key concepts of the sovereign self and carrying forward. Now we are ready to look at practical applications in specific areas of everyday life.
The felt sense is most fruitful when it generates insights and action steps that move us toward our goals in alignment with our deepest values. How can you translate the information and inspiration you receive from the felt sense into concrete steps to take in your relationships, work situations, and other aspects of life?
I am writing this chapter while in retreat in the Colorado Rockies. Shambhala Mountain Center, where I am staying for a week of meditation and writing, lies in a beautiful high meadow dotted with rugged ponderosa pine trees surrounded by forested hills and craggy rock peaks. I first set foot here forty years ago as a young student of Buddhism. I feel a combination of nostalgia and fresh wonder to be once again in this magical place.
But I have a problem. The rough drafts for two chapters that I intended to work on while in retreat are nowhere to be found. I clearly remember e-mailing them to myself before leaving home. As I think this, I feel a twinge in my chest that is saying something like, “You technological klutz! Obviously you did something wrong. Plus, you should have confirmed that the files got transmitted before you left.” Ah, my inner critic has put in an appearance!
Giving it friendly attending, I hear that the critic has more to say: “You’re never going to really succeed because you always mess up one way or another. You are helpless on your own!” Instead of getting defensive, I welcome the twinge and the critic into my awareness. Soon I sense a more vulnerable place that conveys the feeling “I seem to always make these kinds of mistakes. Now I’ve come all this way and I can’t do the work I intended to do in this special place.” With that, the twinge softens into a palpable sense of sadness and disappointment. Now, in place of self-denigration (“You klutz!”), I am able to feel some self-compassion, something like “Yes, I do tend to get things like this wrong, and yes, of course, it is very frustrating.”
I give this critical place some (self-) empathy. I inquire as gently as I can:
SELF: What are you worrying about? What is the worst part of this?
INNER CRITIC: Not being able to measure up.
SELF: And what would it feel like in the body if you did measure up?
IC: Shiny, self-authoring, able to play with friends and colleagues whom I admire. Able to contribute and be recognized. Able to move on to the next thing.
Now I sense a sadness inside that comes with the thought “This is so familiar.” A soft ache extends from my throat down to my belly.
Given this seeming impasse, what can I do now to use my time here productively? I need to find an action step.a The first thing that comes to mind is to e-mail my wife and ask her to send the missing files. But this doesn’t sit quite right—she is very busy with her own work, and it will be difficult for her to locate the files on my computer at home.
I remember that I do have with me an overview of the book prepared for the publisher that includes a table of contents with brief descriptions of all of the chapters. Perhaps, instead of using this time to finish the chapters I already have in draft form, I can skip ahead to ones I haven’t worked on yet. I sit with this possibility for a few moments, checking it against my felt sense. Is there anything in the way of skipping over the chapters I’d intended to work on? Although I still sense a slight pang of disappointment, I also see that the new chapters don’t depend on having everything ahead of them finished. It will work just as well to resume work on the earlier ones upon my return home. Yes, it feels OK to shift course and go directly to the later chapters.
In fact, now I see that I have had some anxiety about the second half of the book, worry that I won’t have as much to say or that I’ll have trouble coming up with appropriate exercises. But here I am in this glorious, fresh place, and now I will move into fresh territory with my writing. My action step is—to write the chapter about action steps! This feels just right, and along with this sense of rightness comes a surge of fresh energy.
This real-time example of finding an action step may seem unremarkable: skipping ahead to work on new chapters seems an obvious enough solution to my dilemma. But it wasn’t at all obvious to me before I took the time to visit with my felt sense. All I felt was frustration at not being able to do what I’d planned to, plus incompetence at having failed to send the draft copies. If I hadn’t taken the time for some Mindful Focusing, I most likely would have ended up calling my wife, interrupting her work, trying to explain where to find the files, and so on. Perhaps it would have worked out in the end, or perhaps it would have wasted a bunch of time for us both. In either case, I would have missed the implicit opportunity to connect with my deeper feelings about being back in this special place in the Colorado mountains, and the fresh perspective and energy it held for tackling the second half of the book.
Note that in order to move ahead, I had to both find the new action step and let go of my attachment to the original plan. Attachment is a revealing word here, highlighting that our intentions in life are as much physical as they are mental. My body needed some attention paid to what it was already attached to in order to let go of that and move in a different direction. Consulting my felt sense allowed the energy I had invested in the old intention to shift toward the new step that came for me.
Exercise 12.1 Finding a Right Next Step
Bring awareness inside. Think of a few situations in your life that are waiting for a next step from you. Contemplate each situation briefly, then let your felt sense help you decide on one to go into more deeply—perhaps the most immediate or the one where you feel most stuck.
Take enough time to review the aspects of that situation in more detail, letting a felt sense of the whole of it form. When you feel ready, ask gently inside:
What’s in the way of my making progress here?
What is this situation needing or wanting now?
What would be a right next step?
As possible next steps come to mind, check them against the felt sense of the whole situation. Do they fit? Do they leave any aspect of the situation unmet? Is there anything in the way of your taking this action as the next step? Does the step feel right in your body; does it bring fresh energy and inspiration?
Be careful about action steps that are too ambitious—New Year’s resolutions like “I’m going to lose thirty pounds” or “I’m going to exercise for an hour every morning.” These are setups for failure. Find a next step that moves you in the direction of your goals but is also doable. Guidelines for “doable” are:
Is the proposed step specific?
Can I visualize clearly when, where, and how it will happen?
Can it be completed in the near future? (If it can’t be done within the next week or two, look for a smaller, intermediate step that can.)
Finally, form an inner intention to take the action step. See yourself actually doing it, resonate with your felt sense a final time for a feeling of rightness, and commit to doing it.
Often the key to success is in finding small steps. By biting off no more than you can chew, you increase your chances of success—and build momentum for further steps. But don’t be afraid to stretch yourself. Some action steps are straightforward and easy to accomplish, but often a next step that comes from your felt sense will move you out of your comfort zone. It feels different from the way you have done things in the past. These kinds of challenges are exciting: you are taking action to affect the external situation, and you are changing yourself in the process. These are steps of real personal growth.
a. It would be more accurate to say, “I want to and I choose to . . .” I could have chosen to stay with the “soft ache” longer, or with the “shiny, self-authoring.” Focusing is an active process that includes making choices about what we spend time with.