Every Moment A Teacher

“Balancing” (12″ x 36″) Acrylics on gallery-wrapped canvas. SOLD

From great horror often rises stories of great courage, selflessness, and love. On the day I heard about the shootings in Las Vegas, I was moved to watch the movie “Patriot Day” -about the terrorist attack at the Boston Marathon. It amazes me how love manages to rise above fear for some people in extreme times.

I have no idea how I’d react in such a situation – and God willing, I won’t have to live through one to find out.

But I do know that – on a much smaller scale – every day offers us opportunities to learn how to act out of love instead of react out of fear.

Becoming aware of how fear feels in our bodies increases our awareness of the power of our minds and the power of our hearts.

Here’s the story of love & fear I shared at last month’s MoMondays – monthly motivational events happening across Canada featuring real people, real stories, real inspiration.

Accompanying me on stage was this new painting, “Balancing” (12″ x 36″), which honours the many ways love, peace, and balance can be achieved on a daily basis. It also celebrates the yin (feminine- receiving – being) and yang (masculine – doing) working in harmony to achieve that balance in the journey of life.

Back in 2003, my husband of 10 years and I mutually and lovingly decided to let each other go.

Our journey together had been rich and intense. His life & death health challenges in the later years had brought our love to a new high – teaching us the true meaning of unconditional love. We learned not to sweat the small stuff as major issues triggered fears on so many levels.

This time also offered me great gifts. I had to call on every inner and outer resource available to keep me strong – plunging me into the world of personal and spiritual self-help teachers, whose tapes (remember those?) I played over and over again as I walked to my several jobs, trying to keep us afloat.

Once the crisis was over, both my husband and I continued our journeys of self-discovery, supporting each other as best we could. We eventually realized (and accepted) that to remain true to our Selves, our journey as a couple would need to end. Wanting our own and each other’s happiness meant letting the marriage go.

No regrets.

Vipassana Meditation

Before moving to Calgary and diving into my Masters of Education for Teachers of English as a Second Language program, I decided to spend the summer in a series of solo retreats. I needed “me time”.

One of these was a 10-day silent Vipassana Meditation retreat in Sutton, Quebec.

This kind of meditation is great to develop the Observer Self / self-awareness. As we sat in meditation, we were taught to scan our bodies from head to toe to feel the subtle vibrations.

By Day 9, when it was time to break the silence, I didn’t want it to end. I’d reached such a state of inner peace.

But it hadn’t always been that way. Day 2 and 3 were hell!

On Day 2, I was convinced everyone was purposefully trying to annoy ME. I got to witness how my mind took soooooo many things personally – from how loudly one participant stomped down the stairs in the middle of the night to go to the washroom to how the one in front of me in the lunch line took the last of a platter I’d been eyeing.

It was both laughable and sad, but it helped me shed a layer of suffering that comes with thinking the world revolves around us. Those participants had all their own stuff to deal with – it had nothing to do with me! Wow! What a great lesson! Don’t take things personally!

Day 3 was worse. I realized how my mind created fear and ran with it. During the session of the day when we were encouraged not to move a muscle, I heard a vehicle outside. We hadn’t been allowed to drive all the way up to the centre, so I convinced myself (while sitting there looking very zen) that some drunk local yahoos had come to the conclusion we were a cult and were coming to shoot us all down. My heart was racing and I broke into a sweat. I remained completely still on the outside, but I was experiencing terror on the inside. Memories of a photograph of piled bodies from a war museum in Cyprus that I’d seen as a very young child came back into consciousness. I had it all planned. As soon as I’d hear the door open, I’d throw myself under the bloody body of the person beside me and play dead.

While fear took on a life of its own, my Observer Self lovingly reassured me that the noise was probably a grocery delivery truck. Didn’t I want more of that delicious vegetarian cooking? I had a choice: keep putting myself through wringer in body, mind, and spirit by running with fear, or choosing love – for myself and in my perceptions of the world. Witnessing the power of the mind and its effect on my body was powerful. And why? Because I’d heard a car. Yikes!

I came out of that session discouraged from seeing how clearly I created my own fears. But I also came out of it feeling liberated and determined to choose love more frequently – questioning the truth behind fear.

The rest of the retreat was bliss!

My Action Research Study

By the time I got to Calgary, I was on solid ground again, glad I’d taken the time to come back into my Self – more loving, more mature, and ready for the next chapter. I’d shed so much of what no longer served me and was ready to dive into my studies.

When I’d registered for my Masters, I had no idea that the Education Department had a Spirituality & Leadership branch. Can you imagine? Reading books by Don Miguel Ruiz, the Dalai Lama, Sai Baba, Byron Katie and so many more spiritual leaders as homework?! School at that point had always ever been to get the degree I needed for the jobs I wanted.

So every elective course became a further opportunity for personal awareness and spiritual growth.

My Action Research course was no exception. Are you familiar with the term?

According to Wikipedia,

“Action research is either research initiated to solve an immediate problem or a reflective process of progressive problem solving led by individuals working with others in teams or as part of a “community of practice” to improve the way they address issues and solve problems.”

My study was an extension of my Vipassana Meditation practice. While teaching English as a Second Language to a group of young adults, I’d pay very close attention to the subtle sensations within my body that indicated fear. After class, I’d journal about it to train myself out of fear and back into love.

I was amazed at how often I was afraid in the space of a class. I got quicker at recognizing the signals and acting instead of reacting.

I’d always been great at the doing of teaching, but not so much at being a teacher.

You see, with my background in recreation, I loved organizing memorable successful learning events. My classes were planned to take the students from the recognition of a problem and working through the challenge before experiencing an aha moment that increased their understanding and skill ability. But the classes depended on successful time management.

I was afraid that something would happen to take the class off course. I didn’t want to get to the end of our time before we got to the end of the lesson. I dreaded the possibility of students leaving feeling frustrated with the challenge instead of elated by their success and progress.

I’d also be afraid of being found out as a fraud if I couldn’t answer questions confidently. I felt a slight twinge in my stomach if students raised their hands (especially in grammar class since I’d skipped that elective for another spirituality course).

Grammar questions triggered issues of “not being good enough”. After all, we didn’t have Google in the classroom back then, and aren’t teachers supposed to have all the answers?

By the end of the study, I became very good at recognizing the physical signals of fear, quickly identifying the root, and either self-correcting a reaction or choosing a more loving response from the get-go.

What a valuable training for all of life!

From Fear to Love

The journey to unconditional love – for myself and others – continues.

Learning to love isn’t linear. It’s like a labyrinth. The intention is there as you journey through the many twists and turns of life to the very centre of your core. There, you find a space to pause, reflect, connect, and collect what it is you need to bring it back out into the world with you.

It may be a cliché, but it’s become one because it’s so true.