Radical Acceptance

I spent this Shabbat outside the city, visiting a dear friend from school at camp. Shabbat was wonderful, culminating in walking barefoot in the grass and laying alone in a field, looking at the sky and the fireflies in the time between seudah shlishit and havdalah, which was exactly what I needed, the absolute tikkun to intellectually stimulating, exhausting 14-hour days in the heart of New York City. I felt such sweetness -- my time here has been an absolute gift. Many compelling conversations, amazing people, a few great New York adventures (after volunteering Wednesday afternoon, I walked with a friend from lower midtown to the bottom of Manhattan (Battery Park, where there was a stellar view of the Statue of Liberty and a concert in the park), then went to the Nuyorican Poets Cafe in the evening. My suitemate last year wrote her thesis on Spanglish literature and Nuyorican identity, so it was wonderful to experience it).

Thought I would share one of the things that have been shifting my thinking a bit. Judaism as a Spiritual Practice, one of my favorite classes, is taught by Rabbi James Jacobson-Maisels. Every week, he brings in a number of Chassidic texts specific to a practice that we do that week in class, then independently at least once throughout the week. It's always interesting to see how differently I experience the practices when I'm alone than when I was in class, guided by James and doing the activity as a member of a group. We've meditated, met with a 'spiritual chevruta,' ate intentionally, sang as a way of opening to spirituality. This week, we've been working on 'radical acceptance.'

The process goes soemthing like this: identify a specific challenging, uncomfortable thought. The examples we discussed were fear of inadequacy, rejection, desirous thoughts toward someone forbidden to you, frustration with a particular person. (It's important that you are able to conceive of a tikkun (antidote/correction/balance) to the feeling the thought elicits. For example, for anxiety, the tikkun can be open space.)

Then focus on that thought, and drop the object of the thought. If it's anxiety about an event, let go of the event and just focus on the anxiety. Breathe in the dark, the negativity of the feeling. James, in guiding this exercise, said to feel the texture of the feeling, and invite it in. There's something wonderfully liberating about, rather than avoiding discomfort, sitting in it, inviting it in.

Breathe out the tikkun. The white, airiness of open space, let it surround you. Just breathe and sit in the feeling; or direct that feeling toward God (this is particularly useful when distractions arise during davening).

It's an amazing practice in being present. It allows me to revel in discomfort because it gives me the opportunity to really FEEL that experience, and to be okay with it. The mashal James brought to class was of a night guard who stands watch and hears a thief approaching. He has the option of shouting to scare the thief away, or quietly waiting until the thief enters the castle, then catching him inside. The night guard who scares the thief away leaves the castle vulnerable and the thief on the run, while the night guard who catches the thief can chain him up (or educate and redirect him, perhaps). It's important to only let the thief in if the night guard has the chains to capture him, though. Likewise, this exercise should only be done when you can imagine a tikkun for the offending idea.

Happy accepting!