Sheltering in Place with Compassion
Sheltering in place has been an interesting experience with my college daughters at home. One evening my youngest suggested we watch the movie Contagion as if we were embarking on some great new adventure as a family. No thanks, I said. (Maybe it was a stressful day. My inner voice was squealing, Are you f***ing kidding me?) Oh, the naiveté of youth. I’m sure such movies are making a comeback in households everywhere.
But the last thing I needed was to keep firing up my brain with unnecessary anxiety. She then suggested the movie Avatar. Ok, a hybrid animation I could tolerate. You know, this is the James Cameron epic about a lush moon called Pandora and the peaceful Na’vi inhabitants, who mesmerizingly demonstrate for us mere movie goers what it means to feel connected to nature and be stewards of the environment. Of course, there is an invasion by greedy humans who aim to pillage all the natural resources on this fictional moon and a great battle ensues.
I was glad to watch it again, if anything, for the timeless teachings about fear and love, destruction and life.
On Pandora there is a sacred place called “The Tree of Souls,” which is a kind of vortex and a connection to Eway (similar to our notion of Mother Earth or Gaia). The Tree of Souls interacts with its world through the seeds of a great tree. Perhaps this was inspired by the quaking aspen groves in Utah, called The Trembling Giant, which is a singular organism of thousands of roots. One tree, many sprouts. (Last summer I read The Overstory by Richard Powers and I keep thinking about the aspens.)
In essence the Tree of Souls allows the Na’vi people to unite as one with the natural world. In the movie there is this telling scene where the main character, Jake Sully, a human who transforms into one of the Na’vi people, finds himself praying to the Tree of Souls to help stave off the impending destruction and loss of life by the humans and their military arsenal.
As he prays aloud, Ney-tiri, the tribal princess (and love interest, of course) implores him:
Our great mother does not take sides.
She protects only the balance of life.
I’ve been thinking about this line all week. Maybe because I’m a part of a university healthcare system counseling students stuck at home, or I am a parent with my own college kids stuck at home, or just plain vulnerable like the rest of us as we face an invisible invasion called COVID-19. I’m not directly on the front lines, but I am on phone lines.
Our great mother does not take sides.
She protects only the balance of life.
There is a sense that there’s something really big playing out in the world with this pandemic, and that somehow our Earth will return to some state of balance, even in the wake of great human suffering and loss. I think of the early settlers in Massachusetts (where I live) who unknowingly wiped out two-thirds of the indigenous peoples with smallpox in the early 1600s.
The fear is real. But it doesn’t need to infect us with unnecessary anxiety and suffering. It’s enough to just practice the CDC’s basic measures and learn to cope with day-to-day living and pay the bills. And so I’d like to offer you a mindfulness skill called RAIN, which I’ve written about before.
RAIN is widely taught by one of my meditation teachers, Tara Brach, who some of you may be familiar with. In the spirit of oral traditions being handed down, I will share the RAIN skill with you as a way to transform fear into compassion and courage. RAIN is an acronym:
Recognize, Allow, Investigate, and Nurture.
The practice can serve as a way of “turning towards” what is difficult, uncertain, or frightening with emotional courage. It can be a way of transforming fear, distress, or empathy fatigue into compassion for yourself and for others. The RAIN practice can be a way of finding balance, calm and connection among us, like the root system of the quaking aspens.
The invitation of this RAIN practice is to hold the following reflection questions:
- What is it like being you right now?
- What does compassion mean for you?
Let’s begin. Sit or stand in a way that allows you to be relaxed and alert, with the sense of a strong back and an open heart, with solid roots and flexible branches.
And take a few moments to scan through your recent experiences. What it is like to be a helper? What is it like to confront this current health crisis in whatever ways you find yourself living?
There may be moments of inspiration and agency, and there might be moments of helplessness, exhaustion, impatience, or being on autopilot, or experiencing fear for yourself or your loved ones.
Bring to mind any sensations, images, thoughts, or emotions that arise.
- What is it like being you right now?
- What does compassion mean for you?
As a human being living within the boundaries of our physical bodies it is natural to find ourselves with strong reactions. After all, the body has a tendency to resonate with the energies in the environment. People, places, and things all hold energy. Like the Tree of Souls.
Reality check
We ARE experiencing extraordinary circumstances. The threat is real. The brain reacts and the body responds. Fight. Flight. Faint. Freeze. And your caring intentions can get camouflaged by anxiety — or from the negative reactivity from the people around you, or from the news. This can cause disconnection and discomfort. You’re human.
The acronym RAIN is a helpful mindfulness tool for just such moments of resistance or difficulty.
Let’s go through each step.
R. The R in RAIN stands for recognize — recognize what’s going on as you reflect on what it’s like being you right now. Notice what arises in the body, and consciously notice the strong emotions in any given moment, or any thoughts or sensations that arise.
Recognizing can be as simple as a silent nod, or a mental whisper, noticing that a reaction is occurring.
It can be helpful to name the experience such as: “This is anger” or “I’m feeling frustrated” or “I’m just so tired” or “This is boredom.”
A. The A in RAIN stands for allow — allowing means letting the thoughts, emotions or sensations simply be there… applying loving attention to your experience; and doing so in a way without judgment or trying to fix or change anything.
It simply means that we can honestly acknowledge the uncomfortable or painful feelings in the moment. Instead of trying to suppress the experience, or resist or avoid it — which is the body’s natural way to deal with pain — we can soften into it and not get caught up in the thoughts or the emotions. It’s asking, “Can I be with this?” or “Can I let this be?”
Sometimes I say, A is giving “airtime” to whatever reactivity arises with an attitude of acceptance.
I. The I in RAIN stands for investigate — to investigate your experience with kindness and care.
Once we recognize and allow what is arising we can become curious, and call on our natural ability to inquire.
Ask yourself : “What most wants my attention right now?”
You may become aware of the part of you that feels afraid or worried. You might ask this aspect of yourself the following: “How do you want me to be with you?” (Yes, you are conversing with yourself.)
Discover how your feelings and thoughts might be expressing themselves in your body, and notice where those feelings are the strongest.
Ask: “How am I experiencing this reaction in my body?”
Or, “What is my critical, anxious or scared voice telling me, or trying to warn me about? Am I believing it? Is it true?”
Take your time to fully enter and feel the part of you that is most in need of care. You can reflect: “How can I bring kindness to this moment?”
Perhaps you say to yourself:
“Yes, this is what’s happening right now.” “It’s OK to be me.” “This is a hard time.”
It is essential to take a non-judgmental attitude and move away from trying to interpret or overthink or catastrophize.
Instead, bring your awareness to the felt sense in the body and allow a direct experience or connection in the moment. The body is an exquisite emotional radar system with important information and clues. You may notice over time that there is an incredibly wise and quiet, or strong, voice inside.
An attitude of care helps to cultivate a sense of safety and understanding. You begin to befriend yourself as you would toward a dear friend in need.
N. The last letter in RAIN is N — to nurture or nourish. We can intentionally care for the vulnerable and afraid places inside. Call on your wisest, most loving self and how might you offer what is most needed. You can dig a bit deeper: What does this place deep inside need most? Calm? Friendship? Inspiration? Love? Patience? Reassurance?
Or is there a touch, like a hand on your heart, or message, or a benevolent image that helps the distressed part receive what it needs in the moment?
Take a few moments to bring a sense of nurturing to this part and sense how this part experiences the compassion that you are offering.
N can also be what is the “Next best step” I need to take. It may be an invitation to be proactive and prescribing positivity for yourself — like making a cup of tea, calling a friend, or getting some fresh air.
In the original version, the N in RAIN, stands for what some meditation teachers call non-attachment or non-identification. This is also useful. This means cultivating an ability to take a step back and having some distance from the reactivity. This means not getting hijacked by difficult emotions (which is the brain’s flight or fight reaction) or being harassed by mind’s incessant commentary (which is business as usual).
Instead, you create some distance. In this way you’re not fused with or defined by the reactivity. Instead, you adopt a sense of care, ease, and compassion. You can be a benevolent caretaker of your own mind just as you might care for a small child. The teacher Tara Brach refers to this process as “After the Rain,” when integration takes place, just like water gets absorbed in the ground after a storm.
RAIN can help to cultivate an enduring inner strength of compassion and courage, and as a way of connection… like the root system in the aspen groves.
The RAIN technique can be a salve for those times when you are caught under a spell of reactivity or negativity, which can happen naturally whenever you feel overwhelmed or overly critical, or when you may be consumed with anxiety, fear or uncertainty. Our times call for this caring attention. We are part of a common humanity, vulnerable and strong, anxious and calm.
May you be safe and protected.
May you be well.
May you find comfort and courage during this unusual time.
Take gentle care.
This is an adaptation of a reflection I offered to healthcare workers through the Center for Mindfulness and Compassion, Cambridge Health Alliance on March 24, 2020.
See my growing list of resources: SpreadTheLove2020
Photo by Thijs Schouten on Unsplash
Photo by Will Malott on Unsplash
