Enough

Last night as we reviewed the items to include in our next farm box delivery, I was struck by how excited I was to see that we’d be getting a dozen eggs and a loaf of wheat bread. Sure, we could don our masks and gloves and make our way to the grocery store to get these items. But as we’ve not gone to a store in the last six weeks, why break our streak now? Our commitment to social distancing is steadfast, and because of this it has caused us to stop and think about how necessary some of these items really are. Can it wait? Do I really need it this week? An unexpected gem of this crisis has been that I’m now seeing eggs and whole wheat bread for the gift they truly are. What a treat to sit down to a meal that I’ll taste each bite of with a bit of gratitude and renewed delight!

A friend of mine shared that she felt similarly about receiving a grocery order with strawberries and salmon. Since when have such ordinary foods been the cause for so much joy? It reminded me of my nightly ritual during my monthlong retreat. Each evening I’d pour a cup of chamomile tea and sit in the brisk February dusk of northern California, watching night descend and slowly savoring a single bite-sized piece of dark chocolate. I had a lot of experiences on that retreat, but the taste of chamomile and dark chocolate can still elicit a flood of memories from that time. Will eggs and whole wheat bread have the same impact on me in ten years?

I’ve been comparing this time for our family to an unexpected and somewhat involuntary meditation retreat. During a retreat there are a handful of practices established to help us sharpen our awareness and support us in our efforts to wake up and see past the delusion of our everyday lives. On retreat we limit social contact - no speaking and minimal eye contact, we often dress and eat more simply, and we limit our daily activities to just those necessary for the task at hand - in this case, doing little more than sitting and walking meditation. We voluntarily renounce much of the busy-ness of everyday life that keeps our heads full of ‘stuff’ and foggy, obscuring the view to our heart’s love.

For me, these last six weeks have felt, in many of the most important ways, very similar to retreat — we’ve limited our social contact — certainly no touching and speaking only with those closest to us each day, we’re dressing for comfort and eating simple foods we cook ourselves, and our daily activities have been greatly curtailed to support the task at hand of social distancing - in this case, doing little more than walks in our neighborhood and keeping the dishes at a manageable level. This time around the renunciation of the busy-ness of our lives was not entirely voluntary at the onset, but the clarifying results have been similar.

I imagine that even for those who are still working or working from home, the simple-ness of life with minimal social interaction, limited food choices, and fewer daily activities has offered the opportunity to see a bit more clearly what is important. All of us are more explicitly faced with our mortality, faced with questions of how best to protect those we love and those at risk, and faced with the suffering of our own and so many around us. Yes, there is overwhelm, but there is also a chance to investigate what’s really important in this life. With nowhere to go and not much to do, we’re seeing things much clearer than before.

Renunciation helps us to clear away that which we do not need in support of discovering that which is worthy of our time and attention.

I’m remembering how little I need to feel truly content and happy. What’s been most important for me these days has been the time spent with my family - both in person and online, the time I’ve spent practicing and teaching meditation, and time spent moving my body. When most of my habits and distractions are stripped away, the precious pieces that remain are reminding me how to best live fully.

On a meditation retreat we’re not necessarily faced with pressing questions of our humanity’s shared existential fragility. Certainly, this is something we may have some insights into on retreat as we see our interconnected nature and the constant dance of change that affects us all. But during this time of global crisis these questions take on an urgency they’ve never had before. And in an unexpected blessing of this social isolation, our circumstances can offer more support than before, with more time for introspection and fewer distractions — for better or worse. We’re being asked to face some of our biggest fears as the parts of ourselves and our society that we’ve worked hard to ignore, because they’re too scary or too shameful to acknowledge, are now front and center when our distractions and everyday lives melt away. If we’re feeling brave and willing to step into this vast uncertainty, we may be surprised to hear what our hearts have to say about all of this.

As the parent of a small person, my day is typically full on child-centered with very little time for introspection. And I know for so many others who are working full time and parenting more than one small person full time without any childcare, these days are FULL. The thought of taking some time to pause and reflect on these questions seems almost laughable. But you’ve read this far, so maybe you are curious about some of this. Because even if we’re still working and still busy caring for children and loved ones, these questions are becoming unavoidable. Especially if our days are full on lately, we’re being called to prioritize what is truly important, where will we place our attention, how will we spend our precious time?

So today I invite you to pause for a second to let yourself breathe. Experience whatever it is you are experiencing right now.

This time may be uncomfortable. We’re being asked to stretch and grow in ways we didn’t think we could. And if we’re willing to just keep going, one breath after the next, we’ll emerge from this so much better for it.

Very few of us asked to be on retreat during this time. But all of us, no matter our circumstances, have the opportunity to benefit from the gifts of renunciation. Thankfully, it doesn’t require anything more than being present for our experience right now. We don’t have to know the answers to these big questions, just asking them is enough. We don’t have to suddenly feel comfortable with this uncertainty, just noticing it is enough. We don’t even have to enjoy eating bowl after bowl of brown rice, just noticing our resistance is enough. Even if we don’t get the eggs and the loaf of bread we ordered, whatever we receive will be enough.

No matter what you do or don’t do, you are enough.

I’ve recorded the following guided meditation to support you in the practice of renunciation. May it find you well.