Finding Center on Uneven Ground

We are living in times of extremes.
We can feel the impact of this all around us, and it is hard to stay centered in the middle of it.

I recently heard someone talking about the Tao Te Ching, the central text of Taoism. They offered a description of the Tao that brought some much-needed clarity for me. They described the Tao as the centering of the pendulum.

“Returning is the motion of the Tao.”

Awareness is what creates the ability to return to center. I have watched myself swing again and again as thoughts arise like this is wrong, this shouldn’t be happening, something must be done. The thoughts create the swing. I have lost center. I have lost awareness of the now, and of what I want to bring to the now.

This is the critical piece I so often lose sight of. What is happening right now, and what do I want to bring to it? Because anger, righteousness, judgment, and condemnation are emotional frequencies. And if I am responding to anger and judgment with anger and judgment, I have simply flipped sides of the same coin.

Awareness is a fascinating practice.

When I first began meditating, awareness would pop in uninvited as the pendulum swung. One of my most hilarious memories is being at the airport, in long-term parking, waiting for the shuttle bus to arrive. And waiting. And waiting.

My husband was with me, who is always a picture of calm around my storms. As we waited, I became convinced the bus was not going to come. Other people began to gather, and we were all starting to wonder if the buses had stopped running altogether. Eventually someone said, “The airport is right there. It’s not that far. I’m just going to walk.”

Brilliant, I said. Let’s go. I can’t wait any longer.

So a few of us began the trek. I was wearing my clogs, which are very comfortable, but the three-inch platforms are not ideal for navigating uneven terrain while carrying a suitcase and a backpack. At one point, my foot caught on the grass and I fell to the ground. At which point I yelled, “I give up! We are never going to make it! We might as well give up now!”

My husband came to my side, again the picture of calm, helped me up, and convinced me it would be worth continuing. Eventually, we did get to the airport. And we made our flight.

But the fascinating part of the whole experience was that I was watching myself the entire time. I could see myself complaining about waiting for the bus. I could feel the anxiety mounting that we weren’t going to make our flight. I could see the ridiculousness of me lying on the grass screaming, “I give up!”

And yet, I couldn’t stop it.
The pendulum was swinging, and I was along for the ride.

But awareness continues to expand.

Over time, I have begun not only to watch the mind as it comes in and convinces me disaster is imminent, but to return to the present moment when that happens. And I have found that I can handle the present moment. Even lying on the grass at the airport, I was still safe. Even if I missed my plane, I was still safe.

And so returning to the now, as the pendulum swings around me, has begun to happen a little more quickly and a little more frequently.

So I guess this counts as a Taoist practice.
Even when I’m yelling at it from the ground.