Practicing Ease
When I planted my vegetable garden last year, I had to dig up a shrub with a large root system. Despite receiving encouragement to take it easy and drink some water, I felt sure I would feel happier once I finished the project so I pushed myself in the sun in the middle of the day for hours without hydrating or resting.
Later I ended up having a severe migraine attack and muscle spasms in my back. When a loved one suggested that I could have a more easeful relationship with my body, my work, and my health, as I was lying immobilized on a heating pad due to the muscle spasms, I laughed and then literally looked up the definition of the word ease. Throughout my life, I have generally approached work and school with the mindset that if I just push through now, then I can relax. I hold my breath, tighten my muscles, and clench my jaw as I try to “keep on keepin”. In a capitalist society that values productivity and perseverance to the detriment of health and relationships, it is not surprising that I would feel compelled to push harder, faster, and get more done. The consequences of efforting and pushing have been monumental for me.
In contrast, I actually do have great capacity for relaxation and leisure – on vacation, at the end of the day when I work on my seasonal jigsaw puzzles, and on Saturdays when I spend time walking the dog and reading, all times when I set aside the day-to-day stressors of life.
Many of us likely have some experience of ease even in short break periods before we return to regular programming of moving through life like we’re at least mildly stressed.
What would it be like to have more embodied ease in daily life? Does that even feel possible if you’re experiencing physical or emotional pian, dealing with the tremendous stressors of racism, transphobia, etc, or wondering how you’ll pay your rent next month? I’m certainly not suggesting that you can just relax racism, physical pain, or economic barriers away or that relaxing while completing a gardening project is akin to feeling ease in the midst of oppression and illness.
What I am saying is that my humanity and worth is not measured by my ability to produce and push through and that all the ways that I chronically tighten and push myself have exacerbated my illness and made me less skillful at dealing with oppression, stress, and pain.
I practice ease by expanding and deepening my breath, softening the clenched jaw and tight eyes, relaxing at my shoulders, and imagining that my whole body can rest and be supported by my chair. When I practice ease, I find myself a little less overwhelmed by physical pain, more able to access higher order thinking for problem solving, and more available to connect with others. The challenges and stressors are still here, but I am more grounded and resourced to live with whatever arises.
Bring to your awareness something that fills you with ease. This could be a loved one, a pet, a favorite place in nature, a creative practice. Notice the images that arise and then feel into sensations.
What would be possible for you if you practiced ease in your daily life?
