Serenity Now!

 This year has been a big challenge for everybody. Like a lot of other people, I found myself dealing with some huge stressors. I've had to deal with the pandemic, with the election, with the death of George Floyd and all that it exposed, with fires, with worrying about jobs and child care and schooling. At one point, my skin was itching and patching over, and I felt like I was going to literally turn into a fire breathing dragon. While I love dragons, the process of turning into one is not so great. The last time my skin reacted like this was when my mother died, so yes, there's been a LOT of stress this year.

Not how it should feel

Without having kendo to turn to in order to help mitigate my stress, I have relied on running, and I recently tried one other activity that I've tried in the past and miserably failed at--meditation.

I had a lot of preconceived ideas about meditation going in. It should make me feel calm and peaceful, and I shouldn't have any thoughts at all. My mind should be a tranquil blank. Right? Riiiiight. In the past--and a few weeks ago when I picked it up again--every time I have started meditating, I have become a huge ball of rage, and it scared me. Where was the peace and calm? Why was I turning into the biggest jerk ever? What was wrong with me???

Reader, nothing was wrong with me. Apparently, when you start examining your emotions instead of walling them off, you find... some interesting things.

So, this time around I picked up a book called Meditation Now by Elizabeth Reninger. I've only made it through the first part of the book, but it's a pretty good, low-key introduction to meditation. There's no pressure to do it "right," just to get started, at least in the initial part of the book. I also recently listened to the audio book Think Like a Monk by Jay Shetty. It was a pretty good listen, and it helped me think about, well, thinking, in a different way. What really stood out to me was the difference he showed between what he called the "monk mind" and the "monkey mind." Your monk mind is your friend. Your monkey mind is about as useful at keeping you out of trouble as an actual monkey.

Both of these books were helpful for getting me past the initial ragey, stabby feeling that meditation had always brought on. Right at the best possible moment, a friend recommended an app called "Waking Up" by Sam Harris. I've tried a meditation app before ("Headspace," which has many positive reviews, but also made me feel... yep, you guessed it, raaaaaage). At this point, I'm nearly done with the introductory lessons, and I've meditated every day for a little over a month. I'm happy to say, meditation no longer leaves me feeling like Godzilla on steroids. Maybe it's because there's not as much focus on what I think--or rather, thought--meditation should be, and more on just letting go of my preconceived ideas and trusting in the learning process. That's something I learned in kendo--what I'm doing might not make sense, but it will. Eventually. Trust the process.

How it should feel

So I'm finally starting to get past those preconceived notions of what I should feel like when meditating. I've begun learning about paying attention to the right things, to getting out of my head, to labeling my emotions and my emotional state, and I've been learning humility. None of these things are what I thought meditation should be like, but they have all brought me a sense of acceptance and calm. I feel like I'm just starting to grasp the things I should be getting out of the practice, and it will take a lifetime to figure out anything, but so far, I've had far fewer knee jerk reactions to what's going on in my life, and I dwell far less on the negative. It's... rather amazing, actually.

I'm not sure what took me so long to get to even this point, where I feel like I've taken the first step on a journey walking to the moon. Regardless, I'm here, and I'm happy to be here, and happy to be learning something new. I hope sharing my experience and these resources help somebody.

The Accidental Martial Artist

A few years ago I had this idea for a novel with a main character who is a former swordswoman. When I started planning the novel I imagined it would have a couple of fight scenes. Problem was, I had never done anything more than swing a light saber around a few times with friends. So I thought, "Hey, here's a chance to learn how to sword fight and call it research!" I considered different styles; the European broadsword wasn't the right feel, not for a swordswoman who was part of a cadre of other swordswomen. Then I considered fencing, but again, the European style didn't have the right feel for what I wanted, although fencing was closer. And then I remembered kendo, which was something I'd first heard of about years earlier.

I had just moved to the Portland, OR area. I searched for kendo in Portland and found a club. They offered a beginner's class three times a year, and a new class would be starting soon. So I signed up, thinking I could take the beginner's class and have enough experience to convincingly write a couple of fight scenes. I had no desire at the time to go any further because I never thought of myself as someone who would enjoy martial arts, and I assumed that all I needed to understand were some basic mechanics and sensations so I could describe the fights realistically. Little did I know...

I was pretty content with my life when I started kendo, but I soon realized that it filled something that I didn't even realize had been missing. It was more than just sword fighting, or a sport, or exercise. It was a way of thinking, of analyzing myself and the world around me, of challenging myself, of coping with anxiety. I started reading books on martial arts and articles on kendo and watching videos of shiai, or matches. What I thought would be a temporary activity became something that boosted my confidence and changed my way of thinking. And that, in turn, changed how I thought of my main character, a lot. I realized I had her, well, not all wrong, but incomplete. Shallow. There were many more depths to her than I had realized. So I scrubbed what little I'd written and went back to the drawing board. And I continued in kendo.

My involvement in kendo ended up helping me create a detailed backstory for my main character, which led to a lot I could draw upon in the present while writing from her point of view. I picked up quite a few books on martial arts to learn more about kendo, and they gave me more insight into my main character as well. Some of the most helpful ones include The Unfettered Mind by Takuan Soho, translated by William Scott Wilson; The Zen Way to the Martial Arts by Taisen Deshimaru; and Zen in the Martial Arts by Joe Hyams. The Unfettered Mind, in particular, has a lot of wisdom tucked into a small volume. And perhaps you can see that there's a pattern to these books, namely, that they all have to do with the mind, and not with raw strength or fighting skill. That was the first lesson I had to learn, and I have to keep learning it over and over. My original fight scenes? Gone. But what I have now? It's much better, in my humble opinion.