
“We are not the survival of the fittest; we are the survival of the nurtured.” Louis Cozolino
Grizzly Bear #399, arguably the most famous grizzly bear of all time, makes her home in and around Grand Teton National Park. #399 is an intelligent mama bear. She is also quite adept at raising bear cubs – at least 22 bears are descended from her. Much to the delight of her many fans, #399 emerged from hibernation last spring with four baby cubs. This is an unusual achievement for any bear, much less a bear that is 24-years old. The cubs will remain with #399 for two years, during which time she will protect them and teach them how to survive in the wilderness.
Recently, #399 and her cubs have been busy foraging for food and consuming massive amounts of calories (hyperphagia) in anticipation of the coming winter season. #399 will soon dig a custom den for the group in the Tetons, and they will climb in together and sleep until sometime in April, without eating or drinking or leaving their den. Hibernation is a wonder of nature, and there is much that scientists do not understand about it.
To survive, bear cubs need an extraordinary amount of nurturing from their mama bears. At first, they need her milk, but they also need to be shown how to hunt, fish, forage and live in a harsh and dangerous mountain environment. Much like bears, human beings also need to be nurtured. The reality is, however, that all parents have limitations. None of us gets exactly what we need. The instructions we receive as children contain flawed bits of code that later limit our ability to function and be content with our place in the world. To grow, we need to find a way to be nurtured through our pain and trauma.
Nurturing through the Pain
Bouncing across the surface of life, the chaos in my brain often won’t allow my mind to settle. I slowly open my plastic pillbox. I fish out two little yellow L-dopa tablets with the fingers of my left hand and deliver the pills unceremoniously to my mouth. An hour or two from now, my tremor and anxiety will disappear completely, like magic. I will feel normal for a while. Then the cycle will repeat. It is all as predictable as the changing of the palace guard at Buckingham Palace. By the end of each day, I am exhausted.
My once-ubiquitous smile seems a bit harder to find lately. During dinner the other night, Annika was telling a joke. After she delivered the punchline, Jennifer turned to me with a look of concern and asked me if I was okay. I was apparently not smiling. Oh, crap. When did that symptom appear? Hypomimia (facial masking). Add that to the list.
I am a bit frustrated these days. I sense a low-grade, persistent anger swirling just below the surface. At times I have been angry with God. Many times I have been angry with myself. Many times I have been angry with people and institutions about a whole bunch of stuff. The current political climate is not helping the situation. The news I consume every day serves merely to perpetuate my frustration.
I’m aware that anger, like all feelings, is neither good nor bad. It simply needs to be processed. So, every morning, I sit on my yoga mat, breathing, and doing my best to quiet my frenetic mind. I place my hand over my heart, inhaling slowly through my nose, exhaling the same way. Along with my breathing, I meditate. There are many forms of meditation, but the RAIN format has been simple for me to remember and practice:
The four steps of RAIN—Recognize, Allow, Investigate, Nurture—will be our tool for arriving in presence. Simply put, RAIN awakens mindfulness and compassion, applies them to the places where we are stuck, and untangles emotional suffering. It is easy to learn the basics, and you can begin to use the steps right away. RAIN creates a clearing in the dense forest, and in this clearing you can recover your full heart and spirit. Brach, Tara. Radical Compassion (p. 4). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
Recognize
As you reflect on this situation, ask yourself, “What is happening inside me right now?” What sensations are you most aware of? What emotions? Is your mind filled with churning thoughts? Take a moment to become aware of whatever is predominant, or the overall emotional tone of the situation. Brach, Tara. Radical Compassion (p. 43). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
Allow
Allowing, the next step, asks you to “let be” whatever thoughts, emotions, feelings, or sensations you have just recognized. You initiate it by gently asking, “Can I be with this?” or “Can I let this be?” It’s natural to feel resistance at this point—you wish some of those feelings would go away! Allowing can include the reality of your “no”—the fact that you really hate the way you’re feeling. Pause as the thoughts and emotions continue to unfold, without trying to control them or doing anything to resolve them. You may feel a strong urge to start analyzing and fixing things. You need to let that be as well. This is a time to let your awareness include everything that is going on inside you. Brach, Tara. Radical Compassion (pp. 25-26). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
Investigate
Bring an interested and kind attention to your experience. Some of the following questions may be helpful. Feel free to experiment with them, varying the sequence and content. What is the worst part of this; what most wants my attention? What is the most difficult/painful thing I am believing? What emotions does this bring up (fear, anger, grief)? Where are my feelings about this strongest in my body? (Note: It’s helpful to scan the throat, chest, and belly.) What are the feelings like (that is, the felt sense or sensations, such as clenched, raw, hot)? When I assume the facial expression and body posture that best reflect these feelings and emotions, what do I notice? Are these feelings familiar, something I’ve experienced earlier in my life? If the most vulnerable hurting part of me could communicate, what would it express (words, feelings, images)? How does this part want me to be with it? What does this part most need (from me or from some larger source of love and wisdom)? Brach, Tara. Radical Compassion (pp. 43-44). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
Nurture
As you sense what is needed, what is your natural response? Calling on the most wise and compassionate part of your being, you might offer yourself a loving message or send a tender embrace inward. You might gently place your hand on your heart. You might visualize a young part of you surrounded in soft, luminous light. You might imagine someone you trust—a parent or pet, a teacher or spiritual figure—holding you with love. Feel free to experiment with ways of befriending your inner life—whether through words or touch, images or energy. Discover what best allows you to feel nurturing, what best allows the part of you that is most vulnerable to feel loved, seen, and/or safe. Spend as much time as you need, offering care inwardly and letting it be received. Brach, Tara. Radical Compassion (p. 45). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
I will be honest. The element of nurturing with self-compassion does not come easily for me. My historic script of self-talk has been more like: “here is a catalog of the mistakes you have made in your life, which, combined with your other inadequacies, make you less worthy than others.” My inner boss has the memory of an elephant. Yet, I am aware that finding a kinder, gentler voice inside of me is the key to experiencing a measure of true peace in the present moment. Instead of wallowing in the shame of negative thoughts, I flip the script whenever I can remember and focus on the positive:
Each of us can learn to Nurture our inner resources, to discover our fearless heart in the face of fear. Our resource anchors may be very different—bringing to mind a trusted friend or a spiritual figure, leaning against a tree, touching our own heart, holding a rock. Yet if we offer our full attention to the positive inner state they awaken, we are directly Nurturing a tender presence that can hold our life. Brach, Tara. Radical Compassion (p. 107). Penguin Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.
Quieting my busy mind, I let it rain. I pray for me. I pray for you. Bringing to mind a nurturing presence, my prayer is simple: May you be well. May you be happy. May you be free from suffering.
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