When’s it my turn?

Everyone is good this year

Oh wow, that was truly awesome!

What a great song

Ooh, I like what she did there

Nice riff!

What if last year was just a fluke?

Oh man, that was really good…

Will I be able to do as well as she did?

What if I forget my lyrics?

What if I can’t follow along on the improvs?

Wow, she’s much better than me…

Welcome to my Mind. 

It’s Day 1 of my second annual (and ever!) singing workshop, and I’m toggling back and forth between enjoyment + appreciation and comparison + fretting. 

One moment I’m swept up in a fantastic performance.

The next, I’m fending off a creeping dread that I’m not anywhere near as good–and everyone will know it

It’s a potent cocktail of (quantities approximate):

3 parts comparison 

1 part scarcity

1 part perfectionism

mix well, garnish with a fresh sprig of self-doubt 

And yet I’m not drunk. Not even politely buzzed. Quite the contrary, I’m clear-eyed and sober, watching fascinated as this inner dialogue unfolds across the day. The thoughts are like intermittent clouds, occasionally enough to obscure the bright sky of mind–all but one corner of it. And that corner is the part of me who is able to Witness and Breathe. And while I’m nowhere near proud to be having such petty thoughts, it’s amazing to realize that I’m having them, rather than them having me. 

I’m pretty sure that I have Tara Brach to thank for the experience. Her book Radical Acceptance has taken my experience of mindfulness not just to a new level, but also in a new direction. Inspired by her teachings, I deliberately choose to accept the thoughts. Rather than brand them small and petty (though they so clearly were!) and try to banish them from my consciousness, I experience them:

Thought… Oh, how interesting, I’m comparing myself to her. That makes my belly churn. {breath}

Thought… Oh, I see, now I’m measuring how much of the teacher’s attention will be left for me. That tightens my throat. {breath}

Thought… Hmm, now I seem to be thinking this is a competition. That sits like a lump in my chest. {breath}

Thought… And now I’m inventing disaster performance scenarios. That speeds up my heart and I feel antsy. {breath}

Connecting each thought to the associated physical sensation was incredibly powerful. It allowed me to stay grounded and to, in a way, hold space for myself. It also kept my attention from getting sucked into thought loops. I simply acknowledged each thought as a visitor to my inner landscape and sat with it. Even, as Tara suggests, inviting them to share a cup of tea. After all, they are aspects of me and are worthy of the same compassion that I give to the more obviously lovable parts of my Self. Some stayed longer than others, but none of them really got any traction. Without additional mental energy to feed them, they just kind of hung out, milling around aimlessly. Once it became clear that there wasn’t going to be much else going on, one by one they drifted away like people leaving a party that never quite got started…

I’m convinced that my choice to accept rather than fight was the key to this whole experience. And by the time it was my turn to sing in front of the group–last in the day, so I had plenty of time to practice both comparison and radical acceptance!–I was just excited to sing. Yes, I was a bit nervous to do so in front of seven strangers, but mostly just excited to be in the music. And I wound up having so much fun! I sang a challenging song, one towards the top of what I think of as my comfortable range, then played, riffing and improving with our instructor. Sometimes it came out ugly. And that was perfect. Sometimes it came out sweet. And that was perfect. Still other times, it came out two octaves higher than I thought I would ever, ever sing. And that too was perfect. It was all perfect because it was all suffused with the sheer joy of doing it. And made that much sweeter by the inner journey I took on the way there. 

So, I ask you, where are you resisting yourself today? And how will you use your mindfulness skills to open the doors to the healing magic of fuller self-acceptance?