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For over a decade, Einstein has been my trusted assistant. Ever since he was a puppy, my yellow lab has been coming to work with me everyday. My private practice clients love him too. In fact, some request Einstein to attend their therapy sessions; his gentle demeanor puts them at ease as we work through their struggles and pains.
My dog and I visit the outdoors nearly everyday. We walk anywhere from a couple of miles to even three or four. Although he's still healthy, old age has slowed him down. In fact, when it's time to hop in the car, he usually requires a boost from me. Recently, he took a spill that signaled my companion's advanced age.
My office is located in Newport Beach, California. The terrain is flat by the ocean and becomes hilly as you move away from the shore. Behind my office is a staircase that Einstein and I take to reach the cliffs above. As always, I was walking ahead of my dog. But I soon noticed that his leash was taut. I looked behind and saw that Einstein wasn't following me. He had collapsed on the staircase and looked up at me with sad eyes.
Apparently, his legs had failed him as he was climbing the stairs, and he was waiting for me to come to the rescue. I approached him, lifted him up, and he walked up the stairs. We resumed our walk as is if nothing had happened: we enjoyed the outdoors and he sniffed around as always.
Based on appearances, everything looked fine. But rather than continue with the flow of our walk, I could have taken a completely different direction. Instead of accepting what had just happened and moving on, I could have become consumed with mind chatter: Oh no! My dog's old. He might not be able to walk much longer. He's going to die soon. What will I do if he takes a fall again? Would I have to take him to the vet right away?
That mind chatter, however, wasn't real. The reality was that the two of us were taking our walk together. Tomorrow might be worse. A few weeks from now, it could be terrible, but right now he was doing fine. When the time comes that Einstein can't walk anymore, we will both adjust. And when Einstein transitions from this life to the next, we'll adjust to that too—as sad as that may be. So how does this dog walking experience relate to meditation?
Quiet the Mind and Embrace the Present Moment
Meditation teaches us to observe our lives, moment-to-moment and breath-to-breath. When we approach life this way, there is infinite beauty to witness. When we concentrate on our mantra, our prayer word, or our breath, we are training our minds to ignore the stories in our heads and maintain presence with what is.
One of the greatest outcomes we can hope for is that we're able to maintain this presence even off the mat. What does being fully present look like? You can see it in young children. They enjoy life, one moment at a time. They don't let their mind chatter interrupt engaging with what is. Einstein is also a pro at this. I recall a time when he had a severe reaction to something he ate in my backyard. I took him to the animal E.R. because his head had swollen to nearly twice its normal size. Rather than be embarrassed with his abnormal appearance, his tail did its happy wag because he was excited to meet the veterinary staff.
Pain Versus Suffering
Being fully present also means that we accept the good and the bad. Our lives are full of happy moments as well as tragic ones. The benefit of taking a one-breath-at-a-time approach to life is that we avoid making difficult situations even worse through the mind chatter that amplifies the painful events we're experiencing.
Physicians draw a line between pain and suffering. Pain is the physical sensation that occurs when something causes us physiological pain. For example, in my dog's case, Einstein probably felt pain when he collapsed on all fours and couldn't get back up.
Suffering, on the other hand, is different. While pain is felt in the body, suffering is experienced in the mind. Studies have shown that meditation can actually treat physical pain. This makes sense to me because by reducing the suffering, pain diminishes as well. For example, if Einstein were to add a layer of suffering on top of his pain, he would tell himself, "Why did this happen?" "What's wrong with me?" and "Is this the start of something really bad?" I think we've all asked ourselves those questions at one time or another, which inevitably makes a tough situation even more difficult.
Meditation: A Reality Check
A daily sitting practice reminds us that the mental chatter is just that—-superfluous thoughts that are getting in the way of experiencing the here-and-now. When we are overwhelmed with "what if" scenarios, stories rooted in fear of what will come next, and more, we can recall our meditative practice and realize that we don't have to engage with our minds. When we quiet our thoughts, life goes much smoother, and our pleasure grows exponentially.
The next time you're confronted with a tough situation, think like Einstein: lighten up about the fears of the past and future, and just get up and keep walking. You'll soon realize that wonder, joy, and peace accompanies each breath you take.
