Week 2: IN PURSUIT OF CONSCIOUS DYING

Photo by Shyam on Unsplash

Week 2: From Mind to Heart - Letting Go of Effort

This week I have had a mix of emotions. I had planned to meet up with other women to make cards for seniors in care facilities. But the van battery was dead, and my daughter’s car also needed to be checked. So here I am—stuck at home without a working car. It feels like we’ve been experiencing more “out of alignment” events lately. Things that normally flow smoothly are suddenly hitting snags.

The Body Doesn’t Know the Difference

Sitting here in the quiet of a house I didn't plan to be in today, I found myself thinking about an old TEDx talk that I saw recently called 'Why Aren’t We Awesomer?’  The presenter pointed out that the body doesn’t distinguish between what is real and what is imagined. Our minds and bodies are so closely linked that simply imagining something we fear creates the same physical response as actually experiencing it.

I’ve heard this from many teachers over the years, but it felt like a timely reminder. What if I could keep my mind focused on the present moment? Well... I’ve been trying to do that for years, and it’s still so frustrating. Because the body doesn’t know the difference between real and imagined, my thoughts about the future become very real sensations.  It creates a physical tension that conflicts with the peace I’m trying to cultivate.

I’m mostly staying positive and joyful, but it’s hard not to feel afraid of the unknown. I’ve heard it said that “thoughts are not things,” so being afraid of a thought seems strange. But what is a “what if” or an imagined future? Aren’t those just thoughts? So is there really anything to be afraid of?

Pain, I guess. Is pain a thought? No—I’d say it’s more of a sensation. If that sensation arises, I will address it with all the tools I have. Why would I want to experience imagined pain? What if my whole transition—or my miracle healing—could happen without any physical pain? Can I imagine that? Can I envision it? That’s a thought I want to let linger in my mind now.

Tying a Kite to the Heart

During our weekly Writer’s Club meditation, I watched my mind wander wildly. I envisioned getting the van battery replaced at AutoZone and then worried, what if it didn’t start back up? There were many other such interruptions.

At one point in the meditation, we talked directly to our hearts and minds. We moved our consciousness to our hearts and opened them. I could feel my mind fly off like a kite. What a great visual! So, I tied it to my heart with some kind of netting.

That’s the perfect image for me to keep in mind as I continue to learn to move from my mind to my heart—from thinking to feeling. It’s been a long time coming and a lot of work, but it feels easier these days. I think my sweet pup, Matt, helped with that. I feel my heart is broken open now since he died in January.

I find myself very emotional and feeling much more deeply about events than ever before. Seeing posts like the Monks’ Peace walk on Facebook brought me to tears multiple times. It’s as if I could feel the energy and emotions they were evoking. The good news is—I like it and can handle it! I want it to continue. I wonder if I can just ask my heart to stay open every day. Could it be as simple as that?

The Wisdom of the Open Road

Here’s something interesting I witnessed myself doing multiple times: Could I figure out if I’m staying or transitioning so I’ll know how much effort to put on healing? Of course, it’s pointless to ask this question. No one knows the answer, or if it’s even determined yet.

When I look at what’s under that question, it seems that I’m tired of efforting. This need to "effort" is an old habit—a way to stay calm by knowing exactly what is coming next. Now is a time in my life where I’m not attached to any kind of label. I went from business professional to stay-at-home mom, then business owner, and now—nothing. No label. Well, “spiritual seeker” and “self-care guru” could fit since I’ve been so focused on my own growth for many years!

In those previous roles, I always wanted to know what was going to be happening so I knew what to expect. This was especially true of difficult things. I could handle most anything if someone explained everything to me beforehand. It kept me calm and able to persevere.

Then in 2022, I took a cross-country trip in a camper van with my beloved furry companion, Matt. I went without a plan, mapped route, or agenda. From one night to the next, I didn’t know where I’d be staying or parking. It was such a great lesson in trust and faith. Each day, I asked the universe for there to be a safe spot for me to stay, and there always was.

I was truly living in grace and flow. Spontaneity was not something I’d ever say was part of my life before, but it was perfect on that trip. That trip taught me that I don’t need a working map—or even a working car battery—to be in a state of grace. I hope I can live in that kind of grace and flow today, trusting that all shall be well.

This is Week 2 of my series, In Pursuit of Conscious Dying. You can read the full post (and future weekly entries) on my Substack: Inpursuitofconsciousdying.substack.com.