This week in group we where taught a Mindfulness technique called 3 – 2 – 1, it can be done sitting or walking, eyes open or closed, and as so many other meditation tools for the beginner it’s easier achieved sitting still with eyes closed. So we start there until we can do it more freely.
It’s purpose is to soothe and calm an overactive mind.
Here’s how to do 3 – 2 – 1
State, silently or aloud, three things you See, Hear and Feel(as in perceive with a sense). Then two things of each. Then one.
Breath calm, deep and even during. Though the focus here is not breath but the world around.
I see purple tulips. I see rain drops. I see a stack of books. I hear the sound of typing. I hear birds singing. I hear the sound of wind. I feel the warmth of my sweater. I feel the chill spring air trough the window. I feel the wood floor beneath my feet.
I see purple tulips. I see a stack of books. I hear birds singing. I hear the sound of wind. I feel the warmth of my sweater. I feel the chill spring air trough the window.
I see purple tulips. I hear birds singing. I feel the chill spring air trough the window.
I have found this tool to work quite well, especially done in nature, but then all forms of meditation is easier for me there. Even writing a version now made me way more mindful and present in the current moment.
After four weeks meditating several times daily, it feels like a habit has formed, that I’ve completed the first step on the path. Now I’m looking forward to finding out what the next step is.
The attentive might notice, way more than four week’s have now gone since the first post. When I started this series, I envisioned meditating this intensely, mening around three hours per day, for the duration of the eight week – Compassion Mind Training – and writing a post for each week.
Then corona virus SARS-CoV2 causing the illness Covid-19 pandemic hit the world. And everyone’s lives changed. Including cancellation of all non-essential treatments to lighten the load on the health care system.
I’m happy and heartfelt grateful for having managed to make meditation a routine before the pandemic, and I’m proud to say I still meditate daily. It might not cure PTSD or clinical depression, but it helps to cope with both.
Going forward I plan to set up a page to gather my resources on Compassion Focused Therapy and meditation. I will also keep writing posts about my own experience and path. Reviews of tools, techniques, teachers, books and other resources. And share the insights I gather on the way.
Our world has changed immensely in the last few weeks but amid the upheaval and distress, there are reasons to believe we can emerge from the crisis with some human qualities enhanced, writes Matthew Syed.
The coronavirus has turned our lives upside down and, although we hope to return to some version of normality in the coming months, it is probable that nothing will quite be the same again. Many have lost their livelihoods and businesses, and there is no diminishing the difficulties - emotional and financial - this has brought in its wake.
But amid the darkness, there are also opportunities.
Opportunities to reimagine the world and one's place within it. Reversal techniques are typically used by people working in the creative industries to come up with new products or innovations. I wonder if we can all use it to seek out a silver lining or two amid the grey clouds.
Midwinter, new years, without winter, the dark felt endless. Winter solstice, seasonal introspection, renewed will, intent to change. Birch Moon, lights return, energies thaw, chance to learn, to grow. Realisation dawns, emotions poured out on page, stay there, take hold, are felt by others. Lonely, yet cared for. Nearly friendless, yet surrounded by love and empathy.
February. Coldest month of year – warmest ever. If the snow hasn’t fallen now – spare us a late March one. Quickening Moon, first glimpses of spring to come. Know beating depression requires change. Self-faith. No reading have ever gotten me there. Can a compassionate conscious breath be the answer?
Writing now a habit, daily practice, to pour onto paper. Turn life, love, thoughts, ideas, to poetry, or lately, maybe even fictionalized scenes here or there. And all you who read this, have help a seed germinate. Slowly belief – I have a special way with words – are taking root.
This weeks eartweal prompt had to do with finding hope. And even though my mind keeps spinning around the subject in all its forms, nothing coalesce and really takes shape. More work required obviously, not only on the poetry, but on my inner ability to feel hope.
To distract myself I searched for hope in my previous poetry and found some insights. Hope is a recurring theme of mine, I’ve even written a hopeful mantra. And judging by the comments others find hope in my pieces.
If I’m honest, some days I feel in desperate need of the smallest spark of hope, so I put hope in my poetry precisely because that is one of the things I seek.
By now, I’m meditating and doing breath-work on a level I never have before. It’s rough, as meditation have always been for me. I’ve cried rivers every day. And one thing have become abundantly clear. The old inner safe place I actually once had is in total ruin. I have no access anymore, it’s like I’m looking at reproduction in a display cabinet in a museum.
Once I couldn’t breathe. Lungs felt constricted, small. Deep breaths weren’t possible. With shallow breath, came fear, panic. It could strike anytime, anywhere. Panic-attacks really can feel like dying. You can’t breathe, heart beats painfully, reality narrows down to a gauntlet of worst nightmares.
I became obsessed with avoiding. Perpetually on my watch, fearful of anything that awoke the panic. Eventually I became a nervous wreck, who couldn’t face public commuting, certain neighborhoods or going to my childhood small-town. Life dwindled.
One day, a wise woman, asked how my breath was. First the question made little sense, but eventually I realized I didn’t breathe deep, with my stomach. The way I learned as a singer. Retraining, I discovered a connection with true-self, a path to less stress. Possibility of self-love. My voice.
There are moments between heart-beats. Between breaths. Wherein lies lifes true meaning.
I’m back to turning my life into prose or poetry. Here in just 144 words, I try to tell how full fledged anxiety and/or PTSD induced panic-attacks feel, what they do to you, and what I found to help me.
This is also much on my mind since I’m back to doing breath-exercises. It seems I have more to learn in this area too. Especially relating to breathing, meditating and self-compassion.
Even so, while pondering which approach to therapy they might grant me. They asked if I’d participate in group Compassion-focused therapy (CFT). And I said yes, so now I’ll do eight weeks of CFT. So far, beyond trying to explain our emotion regulation systems, it’s mostly been light meditation and breath work. Which stand as inspiration for this piece.
I’ll be back to the subject of compassion and CFT later.
This weeks earthweal prompt has to do with finding hope. And even though my mind keeps spinning around the subject in all its forms, nothing coalesce and really takes shape. More work required obviously. So instead I wrote about what helps me feel hope right now, which is meditation and breath-work.
I often feel like a walking cliché Head high, shoulders back No trauma damage to see Told to hide hurt Persuaded to be, not me Conceal truth or others will see
Year on years I used the persona as a shield Tried to persuade myself Eventually it would become real But it’s a hollow construct of bits of me Not the whole good and bad Full moon blooded Goddess blessed priestess Chaos complexity Complete woman