Superstructure Sight + I'm Teaching Tonight!
Interior Generosity
It’s been said that we wouldn’t tolerate a friend who spoke to us in the cruel way we speak to ourselves, so why do we tolerate our own scary thinking? It seems the idea promoted in wellness circles of being our own best friend is an afterthought, something we’ll get around to. Since it’s not top of heart/mind, we don’t practice it.
But what do we practice?
Prepping ourselves with worst case scenarios. Worrying we said the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong person. Anticipating how we’ll feel later, now. Being troubled by the hidden meaning we read into a loved ones social media post. Gaming out how it’s all going to play out with our kid, country, and planet. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
The more we dwell outside our skin, the more elaborate the structure our imaginary life takes. Zen teacher and my long time arm chair mentor, Charlotte Joko Beck, called this shell the superstructure. It’s not a problem that we build it. The problem is we don’t stand back to look.
Shift happens in the seeing.
Caring about our interior peace and sanity is a practice of self giving, or generosity. The g word is often synonymous with giving to others but given that we are giving more of our time, money, and energy this time of year, it’s important to make sure we’re saving the tending of our inner life a seat at the banquet table.
The Buddha implored us to see ourselves in the best light. He said, “no one is more worthy of your love and affection than you.” But having our finger on the pulse of our own bodies, hearts, and minds is missing on our to do lists. Groceries, house repairs, and our partner's bad mood are on the radar but knowing what we’re feeling doesn’t make it to the map.
So giving to ourselves starts with keeping ourselves in mind.
A hopefully relatable householder story to further illustrate what I mean. My daughter and I had just got back from the T Mobile store to replace her crushed phone, the place where everything is complicated and I never know my pin. Five years ago it wouldn’t have been necessary for her to have a working phone and she would’ve learned at least as much. Now, navigating high school without one is a major pain in the ass.
It was our second visit in the same night. The first time we had to come home so Myron could add me as an authorized user to our account that I pay every month. I was exhausted and irritated about how this piece of technology that’s supposed to make life easier was making it tedious and complicated.
If I ignore or miss when my body is on alert, my stress grows and, along with it, my mental proliferation. No longer just a singular incident, my entire life feels unmanageable.
Being generous is akin to caring attention. The moment of noticing my restless overwhelm as blameless pain is the act of self-giving. I don’t need to fix it, transform it, cleanse it, or analyze it.
It’s enough to keep our soft animal body in mind. To touch its tension, weight, and tenderness and follow the unfurling, the satisfying gravity of homecoming.
Let’s get off the hamster wheel together. I’ll be teaching at 4:30pm tonight. We bookend the long held, passive shapes with mindfulness meditation. Our dharma theme is self-giving.
xoxo,
Carina
P.S. If you liked this installation, please heart this post. If you love someone who needs it, please share.
P.P.S. A piece of St. Francis and the Sow by Galway Kinnel
The bud
stands for all things,
even those things that don't flower,
for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing;
though sometimes it is necessary
to reteach a thing its loveliness,
to put a hand on its brow
of the flower
and retell it in words and in touch
it is lovely
until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing