From the dancer's face to the sticky mind

One of the interesting terms I learnt this Fall was "dancer's face" from a video by Allie Christensen. She referred to the idea that dancers have learnt to not show on their face how difficult the dancing really is. I very much recognize that. One funny sight at the ZhemFit classes (fitness classes with a bit of a ballet background) that I like to take is that you can easily tell the ballet dancers from the non-dancers in that they do not wince, no matter how hard the exercise, unlike basically all the other participants in the class. 

A clear case of dancer's face at Morlaix Ballet Camp
Picture by Michel Le

This makes me think of Lojong slogan 57, which is "do not be reactive" or "do not be irritable" or "do not be jealous". In all its incarnations, the slogan reminds us to not react too strongly to what happens. Of course it is also important to not suppress emotions. So the amazing Buddhist teacher Khandro Rinpoche uses a phrase that I really like "keep it short." You can feel whatever you feel, but don't waste too much energy in it. Try to drop the emotion whenever you can. This is of course easier said than done. 

In my lab, we are very interested in studying this kind of mental reactivity, which I like to call "stickiness"--not letting go of thoughts of often emotional reactions. In fact, the most reliable way to induce such sticky thinking is to evoke people's hopes and fears, for example in a social stress test, which we have used here. We find that after a social stress intervention people have more trouble concentrating on a task than after a therapy intervention, and that they also tend to be more stuck thinking about the past. In another study we have been developing machine learning tools to help classify when a person is stuck in their thoughts. Interestingly, we found that on a person-level, classifying whether people are prone to this kind of sticky thinking can be done more productively on the basis of just 5 minutes of so-called resting state EEG (where people are just sitting there without a task) than on the basis of a specific task we have to measure mind-wandering. Hopefully this research will help us understand how our mind becomes reactive and sticky, so that we can find ways to reduce this tendency.

Don't forget to play!

 One of the most delightful things from my travels in the past year was hanging out in-person again with my Tibetan monk colleagues at Sera Jey monastery, and also at a Mind & Life meeting with His Holiness the Dalai Lama. The most important reason why I enjoy so much hanging out with them is that they have so much humor. In our interactions, you can see how they never take themselves too seriously, so they very quickly shift between intense concentration and laughter. We also see this when we study their monastic debate practice, where one moment you see them shouting angrily at each other, and the next moment their are joking. I think not taking yourself too seriously is a very helpful life skill, not only to make your life more pleasant, but also to allow for more mental flexibility. And this is the topic of the 56th slogan of Lojong: "Don’t take what you do too seriously."

Some playful movement at the conclusion
of the ballet Napoli at Morlaix Ballet Camp
Picture by Michel Le

In fact, I think not taking yourself too seriously is also closely related to play, and as researchers are starting to investigate play more, they are finding that play is a very efficient way to learn. For this reason, I started to follow Julie Gill's advice in the Broche ballet classroom to play whenever necessary. It is very nice that some classes in the schedule are now even dedicated to play--for example playing with balancing in the centre, where it is OK to fall, because that's how our body learns, and playing with standing on pointe in the centre, shifting weight in different ways to get more comfortable with those sensations.

Meeting with His Holiness the Dalai Lama

This makes me think: would there be a way I can get my students to play more in my own classes? I feel it's increasingly hard, because students feel under so much pressure that they feel little space to play. Similarly, play can also be helpful on the spiritual path. Actually some visualisation practices in the Tibetan tradition could be viewed as a kind of play (I hope I am not insulting anyone here...), where you feel what it is like to embody a particular deity to try on those mental patterns. And for me one of the most helpful meditation advices is "be like an old man watching children play". Another good reminder!

Can you turn criticism into a prompt for exploration?

As a scientist, I like Lojong slogan 55 quite a bit, since it says "Gain freedom through discernment and analysis." Trying to analyze and discern is what I do on a daily basis. Having said that, of course most of my analysis is on the external level of phenomena outside myself, like a pattern of data, rather than my own thoughts and emotions, as this slogan is talking about. In a way, you could say the slogan encourages us to engage in analytical meditation. For example, rather than simply going with a feeling of stress, we can also investigate why we feel stressed, and try to look at it from many different angles and perspectives. What do we feel is making our life stressful? What would be the perspective of those people around us; our co-workers, our boss, our family and friends? Actually one of the things I often find when I switch perspectives is that the things that seem very dramatic to me are probably not even noticed by someone else, and besides, they're probably way too involved with their own drama! 

Lots of emotions in this image from Morlaix
Ballet camp by Michel Le

In general going in analysis mode is very helpful to go out of wallowing in self-pity, especially when you get negative feedback. A common occurrence for this is when, as happened to one of my PhD students today, you get reviews from a journal where you've submitted an article. Sometimes these can be quite negative and your first reaction is want to curse the reviewers and feel very sorry for yourself that they are so stupid they don't understand your brilliant work. Of course that is not going to make anything better, so another approach would be to explore whether you can see it in any other way. For the reviews that's actually quite easy because after being an academic for so many years my standard response is: congratulations, you have not been rejected, that is amazing! But for other rejections, such as grants, it can be a lot more difficult. Instead of focusing on the emotions themselves and all your justified reasons for feeling this way, you can also try to explore with curiosity what is really going on: how are you feeling? And what can you actually do about the rejection? Even if the reviewer does not understand your paper, other future readers may similarly misunderstand, so it's good to think about how to rewrite the paper to deal with that. Such an action-oriented attitude tends to feel much more powerful and is also more productive, although obviously it's important not to neglect your feelings. 

I also try to experiment with this approach in ballet class where every correction is a chance to explore how to tell my body how to get the movements right. It very much helps when my teacher Julie Gill from Broche Ballet phrases corrections in terms of questions: can you make your leg longer? Can you turn out more? In this way it does not feel like you are an impossible ballet student (it's easy to feel that way as an adult dancer with a body that is not always cooperating) but rather as a starting point for exploration and mindfulness of my body's sensations and possibilities. In short, this slogan is a great reminder to focus on learning and exploration rather than drama.

Happy new year!

 Happy new year! I hope you had a good celebration (if you celebrate) with loved ones. Now the new year has started and it's time for action. Yesterday I talked about setting intentions. Today--in my discussion of the next Lojong slogan, number 54, which says "train wholeheartedly"--we will move into action. The "Eenvoudig Leven agenda" (Simple Living calendar) that I mentioned previously starts the year with an intriguing question: what is your mission? I think it is having a clear mission that can allow you to train wholeheartedly, because you can work to ensure that what you do and how you are is consistent with your mission. 

Ladies on a mission at Morlaix Ballet Camp
Picture by Michel Le

In the last few days I spent some time thinking about it, but I found it quite hard, because somehow your mission sounds like it has to be something grand like solving world peace or world hunger, and that is not something I can commit to. Today, during my morning run, I found that a better way for me to think about this is to come up with prayers, inspired by Roshi Joan Halifax's recent Facebook posts, such as "May I be able to inspire people with my combination of dancing and science", "May I be able to help my students reach their goals", or "May I be able to find some peace in myself." For the latter one, I find it very helpful to remind myself of this recent video by Mingyur Rinpoche, in which he says that in order to be of more help for people he decides to disappear for retreat for a while. I too have to think about how sometimes taking time away can actually allow you to be there more for others--it is not necessarily selfish. Coming back to your main mission can be really helpful to zoom out and make those decisions.

Finally, I want to leave you with a thought I have been playing with in the last days. Often it is easy to keep focusing on things that have to change, but interestingly this unrest is exactly what characterizes our vicious cycle of suffering. The hopeful message of the Buddhist teachings is that we all have a buddha nature right inside us, if we can only let it manifest. So here is an encouragement to trust this buddha nature and give it the space to blossom.

Habits of being rather than habits of doing

 New years are always a moment for people to make resolutions, but honestly, most of those fail. Why? Because to make real change, you need to do small things but consistently. Doing things consistently really only works when they have become a habit--part of your daily routine. So how do you build new habits? The easiest is to figure out how to connect things to your existing routine. For example, I tend to check the news in the morning at breakfast--so here news is connected to breakfast. If I wanted to build in some more moments of meditation in my day, I could try to also connect it to breakfast--although that may be challenging when I am in a rush. Even a short moment is helpful. In fact, Mingyur Rinpoche always says that the best way to meditate is not one long session of multiple hours but rather many short sessions of a few minutes. Because every short session remains fresh and leaves you wanting more. Moreover, interspersing meditation sessions--or whatever other habit you'd like to work on--with everyday life is also helpful because it integrates our memory of the habit with many different cues belonging to our daily life rather than only the cue of a single moment. This means that the habit can more easily spring to mind. I found that Mingyur Rinpoche's Tergar self-study program is also built around this idea with many short sessions that you can easily sneak in somewhere. Similarly, in the field of exercise I started to really enjoy the Hard Abs fitness youtube channel which has very short workouts that you can easily squeeze somewhere into your day (also helpful when you get cold while working because the thermostat is low these days...). 

Picture from Morlaix Ballet Camp by Michel Le.
 You can see us here on pointe, a ballet example 
of a skill that you cannot develop with only sporadic
effort--it requires consistent effort.

But why is it so difficult to build a habit? This is because our habits are already well-practised, so changing them is really hard. Professor Bas Verplanken found that the best way to change habits is when we do not have strong habits, for example when we move, or when we are travelling.

While what I discussed so far is about habits for things we do, but in Buddhism, the most important habits are about how we are. So instead of building an intention to do something like a meditation practice, you can also build an intention to have an intention--can you challenge yourself to cultivate more intentions of helping others rather than getting ahead? And even such intentions are most suitably cultivated by attaching them onto existing habits, such as remembering this intention when you do the planning for your working day. I will definitely try to reinvigorate that habit! But for now: happy new year!

Happiness is often not where we look

 Today was the last day of an online winter retreat that I co-facilitated. In the contemplation that I led, we investigated how we all want to be happy, but in searching for this happiness, we are misguided. We talked about the "8 worldly preoccupations"--specific sets of hopes and fears that we run after/run away from, For example running towards praise (hello social media!) and away from criticism. The problem with this is we put our happiness in the hands of others. This misunderstanding is also the topic of slogan 52 of Lojong" "Don't misunderstand." 

However, the slogan itself talks about six types of misunderstanding. First, mistaken patience. We have patience with our work--working long hours to only get money that we then use to buy leisure to get away from our work. Yet, we do not have patience with things that don't get societal recognition, such as the invisible work of being on a spiritual path. The same is true by the way for ballet, where not many people have patience with the slow boring exercises, even if they spend many hours doing classes with fancy jumps and turns. But it is often the most boring stuff that eventually makes life better because you are cultivating helpful habits.

Second is mistaken aspirations. I think society pushes us towards aspiring to have a good career, money, relationships, and so on. But do those make us happy? In the end real happiness can only be found inside--as it is said: there's no treasure like contentment. Third is mistaken taste. We tend to go for short-term pleasure, rather than long-term benefit. There are even psychological studies of a phenomenon called "inter-temporal choice" where people are asked to make decisions between rewards in certain time frames and it is a consistent finding that people tend to prefer smaller rewards when they can get them now over larger rewards for which they have to wait weeks or months. There is nothing wrong with enjoying some sensual pleaaures, but it's important to realize that they will never last. Even delicious chocolate (which  I am quite addicted to!) will become aversive when you have too much of it.

Fourth is mistaken compassion, which seems strange: how can compassion be mistaken? Nevertheless, compassion tends to be only for the people suffering, and not for the ones that are happy, but who will inevitably suffer later. Especially those people committing crimes right now are bound to suffer later--probably much worse. Buddhism teaches us to also have compassion for those. I personally find this a helpful practice because it humanizes that person and somehow therefore makes me feel less attacked by their acrions. Next is mistaken care, in which we encourage people to go after their self-centered aims. This is a challenging one as well, because we are invited to encourage people to put their spiritual practice over their career, which is not something that tends to make sense in society. However, supporting someone to find their happiness inside is probably a good idea in this uncertain time. Finally, mistaken joy is only rejoicing when we do well, but not when others do well. This is mistaken--the green monster of jealousy does not really help you feel better either. So cultivating joy in the good fortune of others is a recipe for resilience. Wow, that was a lot for such a simple slogan!

How to be lazy while being busy

One of the most challenging things for me is the concept of "active laziness". This is the idea that you do many things to avoid doing the main thing, which usually is also the most challenging thing. I think Lojong slogan 51 is also exactly about that. It says "this time, practice the main points." In the Buddhist realm, practising the main point would refer to making sure you don't forget to practise, and when you practise, to ensure the practice is about reducing your self-importance rather than for example showing off what a good Buddhist you are.

Picture of being busy with lots of mostly 
meaningless stuff in the ballet Napoli
at Morlaix Ballet Camp. Picture by Michel Le

But of course this idea also applies to academia, where it is extremely easy to spend all your time doing things that are helpful, such as reviewing papers or reading other people's papers or improving your lectures, but do not move your career ahead and do not move your research forward. I think it is really challenging to decide what the most important contribution is that I can make in a given day to science. Because even if reviewing a paper on the short term helps science, getting my own ideas into the world also helps science.

Also in ballet it is important to think about those things, because it is really easy to just follow ballet classes and hope you will improve. Because as Julie Gill says in this episode of her podcast, it is important to analyze what are the most important things for us to work on, and then target those more specifically. Sadly those things, which include posture and foot strength, are much less exciting than twirling around a big bright studio or a stage in a tutu.

Finally, I don't think main points are always the same. The trick for improving in any area of your life is to regularly ask yourself what your main gaps are and what small goals you can set to move closer to these goals. For example, in the Buddhist context rather than abstractly going for "enlightenment" and doing an indiscriminate amount of practices, you can instead analyze your main problems, e.g., being too busy, and then focus on regular short meditation practices to calm your mind, and commit to ending interactions with other people by wishing them well. And once you have made progress in those, you can move on to another goal that addresses the main point. 

Little drops fill buckets--in work, ballet and the spiritual path alike

Have you had the experience of saying that you would totally do something, if only you weren't so busy? I am totally guilty of that (including with writing this blog: I have been busy with this #lojongchallenge for quite a few years now (I don't even remember how many...). So the next slogan, slogan 50 of Lojong is perfect for that, since it says "don't be dependent on external circumstances". Of course it refers mostly to being dependent on external circumstances for working on yourself and engaging in your spiritual practice, but it applies equally to many other things in life.

Picture by Michel Le at Morlaix Ballet camp.
For me this is an example of little things (in this
case people) making up a much larger whole.

In the domain of ballet, I figured out this past year that I can do ballet even while travelling: there is no need to be dependent on external circumstances for that. When I am on a train station or in an airport, I can do a quick barre, for example in an empty gate or a quiet spot (especially Broche Ballet's technique deep dive barres are great for that, because they mostly involve standing and scanning your body, and not really making large movements). I can also do a quick prepointe workout (also from Broche Ballet) while standing or while sitting on a chair. I have also attended many an online ballet class from the hotel gym of the various places I visited this past year!

The same is true for my job. One of the most challenging things to do when you're an academic is getting into writing mode. But in reality, you don't really need much--if you can just find 15 minutes, writing is possible. For next year, I aspire getting into the 15-minutes-a-day writing mode, because so much can be written in that time.

Now most importantly, the spiritual journey of reducing self-importance. It is so easy to think you have no time for meditation and therefore no time for the spiritual path. But literally every moment is an opportunity. Even in the midst of a busy day (maybe especially in a busy day) you can pay attention to how you react, and check whether you react from self-importance or from a broader perspective that takes others into account as well. And even a few seconds waiting for a traffic light, you can practise meditation. I think nowadays this is so much more difficult because we have our entertainment of our phones with information to be processed always in our pockets. This means that making the choice to simply observing the moment is more challenging. However, the benefits of simply being present should not be underestimated--for one thing because it may allow you to be reminded of things you otherwise forgot. I had that experience many a time while I was practising the three-minute breathing space (from the MBCT intervention) at the beginning of my lecture, and this was so helpful (note: this Fall I started to begin my lectures with the three-minute breathing space, and so far I am liking it). So here we go: 2023, the year of being less dependent on external circumstances and not forgetting to turn my mind inwards as much as I can! 

Reminder to self: don't duck away!

If you are anything like me, you like to engage yourself mostly with things you like, and avoid those things you do not like. This is a bit of a problem because first of all, there is no way you can avoid what life throws at you, and secondly, it is often from the challenges that you learn most. This is what slogan 49 from Lojong is about: "Always meditate on whatever is most challenging." In our Buddhist study group we are now looking at turning suffering and happiness into enlightenment. It is a beautiful teaching showing that whatever we experience can be used on the path to enlightenment, and even on a more mundane level, everything is workable.

Picture by Michel Le from Morlaix Ballet Camp.
Clearly a bit of a challenge here!

Meditating on what is challenging can come in different versions. For me, one of the easier versions is in my learning of ballet, where it is always challenging to see the parts of my technique that are not pretty. Yet, it is exactly working on the non-pretty parts and the scary steps where you progress. And nothing beats the feeling of doing that. This is why during the pandemic I started videoing myself and posting (admittedly the prettiest) parts of it on instagram. In my work I have been focusing this past year on building the habit of regularly reflecting on what I am doing with my time. For some reason I find it always really difficult to make the time to review at the end of the day and the end of the week. This past year I managed to get into the habit of weekly reviews with my "Eenvoudig Leven agenda" (Simple Living agenda) which has weekly worksheets for reviewing the past week (and always reminds you to love yourself). That helps a lot, and for the coming year I am working on developing more detailed long-term goals with a gantt chart. Progress happens slowly but surely! The most challenging difficult thing is to face negative emotions of myself and others--for example being afraid for when they get angry. This is one I am still working on. This slogan is a good reminder to stop fearing the moment of facing the difficulties. Because as I tell my students: it is worse to let those things stay in the dark and know that they are there than to actually face them. So, remembering this slogan is definitely on my list of good intentions for the new year, so I am less tempted to duck away for difficult things, and instead just face the
m.

A key to resilience - learning to dance with whatever life throws at you

The next slogan in the #LojongChallenge is number 48: "Practice impartiality toward everything. Deep and comprehensive mastery overall is essential." I think this is such a good reminder. Probably for me the thing that most certainly makes me unhappy is to want things to be different from what they are. I got a lot of time to practise with this in the past 6 months in which I had the great good fortune to travel again. Traveling is especially one of these circumstances where you don't get to choose your circumstances. Sometimes things are pleasant, and sometimes they are annoying. For a Western European for example, it always takes some adaptation to go to countries where time is not so strictly adhered to, so things don't necessarily start at the assigned time. One possibility is to get annoyed about it, but a more adaptive option (albeit not always easy in practice) is to just go with the flow. When I was lucky enough to attend the Mind and Life meeting with His Holiness the Dalai Lama in Dharamsala earlier this year. This was an amazing meeting, but also required quite a bit of flexibility. I particularly remember one moment when we were in the car on the way back from an excursion to the Norbulingka institute outside Dharamsala and suddenly the car stopped for a traffic jam up the hill. After waiting for a bit, we decided to get off the car and actually walk up the hill leaving the taxi behind so we could make it somewhat in time for the next excursion. In the end, we were still late, but the schedule changed and all was good. For a person living in a stable country like the Netherlands, it is easy to forget that things are not always predictable, and they naturally change, even if we don't like that. A similar experience occurred later during my India trip when I was staying in a hotel in Allahabad, where the staff seemed to have their own mind about when things such as breakfast would happen. My first reaction was to get very frustrated, but that does not really change things, especially when you are only staying in a hotel for a few days so staff won't change their habits. After a few days my more adaptive response was just to plan around it and to dance with whatever life was throwing at me.

Image of dancing from Morlaix Ballet Camp by Michel Le 

I think actually impartiality is an overlooked outcome measure of contemplative practices such as mindfulness, as was already suggested in an early paper by Gaelle Desbordes. In one of the papers we wrote in my lab this past year we started to look at people's impartiality more empirically by comparing how people's thinking would change after being exposed to either a social stressor or a positive mood induction. We found that after a stressor, people were more distracted and had more negative thoughts than after a positive mood induction. In an on-going study (we are still looking for Dutch-speaking participants!) we are looking at how a mindfulness and a positive fantasizing intervention for a longer period can affect these same thought parameters. Hopefully this will eventually allow us to figure out how we can train people to dance with whatever life is throwing at them, like in the picture accompanying this blog (from the Morlaix Ballet Camp).

Reflections on mindfulness

Picture by Michel Le Photographe from Morlaix Ballet Camp - when dancing together in the corps de ballet, you also need continued mindfulness of the body to ensure you move together as one team.

 It is the end of the year, and naturally a time to reflect, so I decided to take up blogging again, also to process how much happened this past year. Meanwhile, I still have a few slogans to go with the #lojongchallege, so let's see how far I will get. I certainly won't finish before the end of the year, but maybe I can make some headway in the first week, when things are still a bit more slow.

The next slogan on the list is slogan 47, which says "keep the three inseparable". With "the three", the slogan refers to body, speech, and mind, which are the three components of a person with which they can act in the world. According to Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche in his book Intelligent Heart, the idea is that we should keep these three--body, speech and mind--inseparable from mindfulness. It is an invitation to remain mindful of whatever actions we commit with our body, speech and mind. I think in the West, a kind of simplistic notion of mindfulness has emerged which is only about paying attention. In that notion very often mindfulness is also equated with doing things very slowly. Surely slowing down is good, especially for a busy person like me, but sometimes this is not practical. Here, instead, mindfulness refers to the ethical dimension: remain vigilant of the effects of your body, speech and mind. This sense of mindfulness is therefore not so much self-focused, and instead focuses on awareness of the impact of your actions on others. Funnily enough, I think this often can be quite liberating, because if you only focus on yourself, it can lead to so much hope and fear.

As I was running today, I was thinking about what I accomplished in the past year, and whether that was what I set out to do. I honestly could not really remember specific goals I set myself at the beginning of the year, short of possibly achieving promotion so associate professor. I sadly failed at that one. Nevertheless, I am actually quite happy at things I achieved, but mostly those things involve making an impact on those around me. I was happy with having been nominated for teacher of the year in our AI programme because of my concern for mental health of the students. I was happy that some of my students' papers were published, PhDs were finished, or almost-finished, students got jobs, and I was able to share my knowledge in a series of workshops for students in India. I think for me those mean more than titles or prestige, because they are the things that someone in the end may remember. Of course I still do my best to get grants, and to publish and all those things, but this is not the most important. The most important to me is being aware of the impact of all small actions of my body, speech and mind on others. For related ideas, see the preprint my colleagues and I recently put out in which we call for more kindness in academia: preprint

Opening the mind through travels

As I am finally able to travel again, I reflect on how amazing travel is. Even though I did not feel unhappy during the pandemic, I don’t think I realized how much I missed travelling. I am sitting here, writing this essay during my first trip to India in more than two years. The world has changed significantly, with not only a pandemic but also a stronger and stronger realization that climate change is real and a war raging in Europe. This makes me sometimes wonder whether it is still a good idea to travel. Is there even a reasonable argument to be made to spend so much kerosine for flying to other continents? I think there is, but at the same time I think it is critical to engage in sustainable travel. For instance, I have put myself on a flight diet, meaning that I will not fly to India more than once a year, and I will not fly to the Americas more than once a year. To allow for this, I try to make each trip longer and pack in everything I can think of, rather than flying back and forth. Yet, the reason that I think it’s still justified to travel is that it also provides a potential solution to many of our societal problems. Specifically, I think it can make significant strides in reducing the divisiveness in society that is currently magnified by the filter bubbles created by (social) media, and secondly it can help us become more naturally eco-friendly. Let me discuss each of these two in turn.

Visiting the Taj Mahal with Delhi By Cycle

Visiting the Taj Mahal with Delhi By Cycle

Travel can give us more understanding about other cultures and other viewpoints, by exposing us deeply to other people. An example of this was my trip with Delhi By Cycle to Taj Mahal, cycling through the small villages of India while learning about the life of Krishna, and the history that created Taj Mahal. In today’s filter bubble it’s so helpful to create deep experiences of unfamiliar cultures. For me as a rich Westerner, it makes me also acutely aware of the tremendous privilege I have: that water is coming from the tap, that electricity and internet are always there… Travelling in India, I experience, even as a tourist, what it is like that those things are not always there. And this has a profound effect on the mind as well, because it gives you a visceral experience of impermanence—that life is not always controllable or predictable. And realizing impermanence then allows you to appreciate what you have much more, and also helps you prioritize the most important things, since you don’t know how long it will last.

Near the Ganges in Rishikesh

The second reason travel is valuable is that it can make us more aware of environmental issues, when it allows us to experience nature in such a deep way that we feel in our body the need to protect it. I felt this very clearly last year when I saw an erupting volcano in Iceland last year, and also this year when I got to bathe my feet in mother Ganga in Rishikesh. These two experiences made me feel so tremendously connected to mother nature—almost as if you are touching mother Earth directly. As a result, paying attention to climate change comes much more naturally—not because I think I have to behave that way, but because it feels like it is the right thing to do.

In short, although in the short term, travel may be associated with some pollution, when engaging in sustainable tourism, such as taking tours by cycle and by walk, travel can do a lot to transform our minds and make our behaviour naturally sustainable.

 

Remembering the important things

I just got back from a Buddhist retreat in the south of France (the beautiful Tibetan Buddhist temple of Lerab Ling). It's such a gift to be able to spend a good week just thinking about the Buddhist teachings and the meditation. The focus of the retreat was meditation, and there was lots of space and time for practice, which for me is the most important thing. I feel like I already received so many teachings, but I don't have the time to put them into practice. 

Impression from the dialogue with Mingyur Rinpoche

 Every day I started by going for a run, allowing me to move my body. The first day was kind of exciting, because it had been a good 4 years since I had last been to this retreat centre, so I didn't know whether the running path still existed, and whether I still remembered it. Thankfully my body still remembered it, and actually it was easier than I remembered: usually on the big hill somewhere at the end of the round I would need to stop halfway to catch my energy, and this time I was up before I knew it (maybe it was all the zhemfit I have been doing?). 

My favourite spot to practice on top of the hill

 What I found very interesting was that being in this space really made it so easy for me to completely disconnect: to ignore my email and my social media and the news (not that I completely forgot about the news: I did send a lot of prayers to Ukraine in the prayer sessions and also though about Salman Rushdie, who had been attacked just prior to me leaving for retreat). Having the space to simply be and enjoy the nature and the practice was just so much more rewarding than these other things (I remember this being much more challenging previously when I did my retreat at home). 

During a gorgeous day at Lerab Ling

This reminds me of the next #lojongchallenge slogan, number 46, which says "meditate on the three things that must not detoriorate". The three things the slogan refers to are the connection to the spiritual teacher, the enthusiasm for practice, and the sense for what actions are right and wrong. Now enthusiasm for practice is so much easier when you are in a space dedicated to practice, where all that is expected is doing the practice, and everything else is taken care of. What a luxury! Now the challenge will be to go back to busy everyday life, where I myself need to convince myself that practice is important, despite the millions of other things that are expected of me. Hopefully my happy memories of the profound sense of well-being and spaciousness will help me here. 

 Another thing that can help me remember my enthusiasm for practice is an experience I had in the middle of the retreat, when the centre was hit by severe thunder storms (thankfully I was staying in a wooden cabin, so unlike people staying in their own tents, I was very safe). Earlier in the day, I had been sitting on my favourite meditation spot on top of the hill, and I felt the strong winds, but despite all of that my mind felt quite settled and stable. Then I went down to the temple for teaching and practice, and we heard the news that the major had sent a warning to the retreat centre that a major storm, possibly hurricane, would hit the centre, and we needed to be prepared (people in personal tents were asked to sleep over in the temple to ensure their safety). What was interesting that now my mind completely jumped all over the place, even though at that point the weather was almost the same: now I started to worry a lot about things like whether my running shoes would fly away (they were hanging out at the door of my cabin). It's amazing how our mind dramatizes things so much, and creates a lot of suffering that way. But that's why we do the practice: to become aware of this pattern, and instead of mindlessly following it, to gentle observe it and let it go instead. 

View from my run 

Impression from Lerab Ling

 The second thing that the slogan asks us to remember is the spiritual teacher. In the Buddhist teachings, the teacher plays a crucial role, as an embodied role model for the path to enlightenment. They are so inspiring because they live in the same world as we do, and give us examples in how to deal with that more sanely. Sometimes even thinking of the teacher can put you in a more sane and wise state of mind. In fact, that is the essence of the Tibetan Buddhist practice of guru yoga. One teacher who currently really inspires me is Mingyur Rinpoche, whom I had the tremendous honour to dialogue with just prior to my retreat. In his way of being, he shows how to maintain a joyful mind no matter what happens to you (I could really use that reminder in a very rough train journey on my way to the retreat, where I arrived with 4 hours delay at 2 am in Montpellier, the city closest to the retreat centre...). If you want to know some more concrete examples, I highly recommend his book In love with the world or the movie about his wandering retreat Wandering but not lost (we also got to watch this after the dialogue: what a treat!). 

 The final thing to remember from the slogan is how to behave as a decent human being. The Buddhist teachings are actually very simple in this: rather than giving you a list of rules, the simply ask you to do not harm others, and where possible to help. Of course in reality this is not so simple, because sometimes helping in the short term can be harming in the long term--something I reflect on a lot in the context of climate change (hence my frequent train journeys and avoidance of flying where possible). It's so important to keep reflecting on your actions. I try to remember (not always successfully) to take some time at the end of my day to reflect on what I did, and whether that is in line with my values, and also at the beginning of the day to set my intention to be of benefit. When I do manage to remember these things, I certainly feel so much more fulfilled...

Impression from Nurnberg

An amazing ballet adventure with some unexpected connections to Buddhist philosophy

 I am writing this on the way back from ballet camp: nine days of dancing with amateur adult ballet dancers from across the globe. It was such an amazing experience that I want to try to capture some of it by writing it down in a blog. The adventure started with a quite disastrous train journey from the French Alps (see my previous blog) to Morlaix, in Bretagne (France), since my train from Geneva to Paris had more than one hour delay, which caused me to miss my connection in Paris, and hence I was two hours delayed and missed the welcome party of the ballet camp. Thankfully the people in Morlaix are very nice, and my bed & breakfast host was willing to welcome me more than an hour after the check-in time ended, and the ballet camp people came to pick me up by car from the train station. It was such a warm bath after such an exhausting journey. Nevertheless, it was already very exciting to meet people from across the globe who all had been making their way to ballet camp. 

a view of beautiful Morlaix

The next day, after enjoying the delicious breakfast made by my B&B host Nicholas (which included crepes and all kinds of cakes), we were called to go to different studios in the city of Morlaix, where we did our first class, and then different people started to learn their first pieces of the ballet. This part was a bit disorienting as some people seemed to already know variations, and it was a lot of sitting around. Nevertheless, this was also a great moment to chat with the fellow dancers and get to know them. And before I knew it, I had learnt my first pieces, so in the time that others were learning I could work on practising my own variations or chat with the others. It was so interesting to hear everyone's stories! It was also beautiful to see how everyone was helping one another. In this ballet camp, we were also accompanied by two professional dancers who were dancing the lead roles, and they were so incredibly nice and welcoming. They were curious to talk to us, were clearly helping with rehearsing and dancing alongside us, as well as spending time with us. It was so heart-warming to feel this spirit of everyone being welcome, no matter their level of ballet experience.

The place where we were practising was a fascinating place: an old tobacco factory that had been turned into an arts space with lots of performances and other happenings (and a ballet school). The only challenge at this time was the floor, which was very slippery, at both of the studios where we were practising (more on this later). At the end of the first day I was so nice to come all together for a class with the organizer, Julie Dupas, who led us in a sequence of ball rolling exercises to massage our muscles, and then it was time for dinner. I mostly walked everywhere during the week, which was a great warming up at the beginning of the day, and cooling down at the end.

As the week progressed, learning got more intense, and in the 2nd and 3rd day, it became quite stressful, as I felt like I was not remembering anything. Thankfully the teachers, Alex Negron and Laura Poikolainen, were very patient with us, despite us messing up for the hundredth time. But slowly, slowly the ballet became more and more familiar. Having said that, the days were pretty intense, starting at 9:15 in the morning on most days with a ballet class, then launching straight into rehearsals, which lasted until lunch around 1 pm, after which rehearsals continued until the muscle relaxation class at 17:00. Sometimes we had a break in the middle when we had to change studios with a short walk through the lovely city of Morlaix. We avoided doing pointe work since the floors were so incredibly slippery. After a few days, we started to rehearse in the actual theatre where the show would take place, and this had an actual marley floor, which made us so happy since it was slippery. However, after only about one day, disaster started to strike as also the marley floor became slippery! It became scary to dance, so rehearsals and classes were very nerve-wrecking... (even more than they already were anyway because it was such a challenge to memorize all the steps...). Amazingly enough, I did not have major muscle ache--maybe the tough zhemfit classes I had been doing were paying off!

Then came the day of the dress rehearsal. Everyone was freaking out, but the teachers went to their last resort: spraying the stage with 7up. And yes: that worked! We had a squaky and sticky stage (of course squaky was not intended, but at least it allowed us to dance without being afraid to break our legs). It was quite nerve-wrecking to do a full performance after having rehearsed it only for a week, but somehow magically I made it through without major mistakes. At times I had to pinch myself that I was there: for the first time of my life learning an actual ballet from the classical repertoire, surrounded by dancers, wearing a tutu and pointe shoes! And then the next day, we had the actual show! I was quite nervous, but also so excited to dance this happy ballet with my new ballet friends. Although this vacation was clearly not stressfree, it feels so good having done it and created this beautiful piece of work together! (see my instagram for some pictures).

For the regular readers of my blog, you know that I am working through the Lojong challege. Lojong is a set of slogans for training the mind from the Tibetan Buddhist tradition. In the Lojong challenge, I go through each of these slogans and see how they apply to my life. We are now at slogan 45: Take on the three principal causes. This means that we are encouraged to take on the three principal causes for enlightenment, which are working with a good teacher, cultivating a pliable mind, and creating life circumstances conducive to training our mind. I think that when applied to ballet, this post shows how in the past week, I definitely experienced all three conditions. However, I think the learning process of the past week was to some extent also a mind training in the sense of Lojong, because the kindness of people encouraged me to also practise kindness, and the performance process itself was a great invitation to let go of all judgment and simply be in the moment, like for my last performance. Moreover, ballet performances are also a moment where it is important to let go of your own bubble and to open up yourself to the full interdependent circumstances that create the performance together. If you are in your own bubble, it does not work, because you will then easily end up being in the way of others, or failing to react to what is going on on stage, including unplan

the whole group

ned things. So the Buddhist views of interdependence and selflessness are very helpful here. Sometimes ballet training and Buddhist mind training have quite some overlaps!

Inter-subjectively exploring intersubjectivity in the French Alps

 In the last week, I had the good fortune to be part of Mind & Life Europe's ENCECON meeting. In this meeting, philosophers, neuroscientists, psychologists, meditators and more get together to discuss how we can study first-person experience and bring this full experience together with objective, third-person methods. This year's theme was "inter-subjectivity", which we explored through a series of meditation exercises, interviews and discussions. The interviews were not any interviews, but ==microphenomenological interviews, which is a method to explore experience in a very detailed way, trying to focus on the experience itself, leaving out our habitual theorizing. Another important characteristic of microphenomenological interviews is that they invite us to slow down, and repeatedly relive our past experience, so we become more aware of the details of these experiences, using more of our senses than we typically report on. What i found really interesting as a scientist was to observe the so-called evocation state, in which people show signs of being disengaged from the current context, something which we in the mind-wandering literature term "perceptual decoupling". The interviewees at this point slow down their speech, may close their eyes and sometimes repeat gestures from their past experience. What is challenging about this method, is that to explore a few minutes, or even less, of experience, you typically have an interview that lasts 30-60 minutes. At the same time, this is a state of pure contemplation--engaging in a reliving without judgment. Yet, this makes it very difficult to combine with other methods of research such as neuroimaging, because for most of these experiments, we need many repetitions of the same instance of experience. So, we had a lot of discussions about this.

What amazed me during this meeting is the profundity of the experiences that could be evoked by very simple meditations. On the first day, we were asked to simply bring to mind a person whom we felt grateful to. I kind of missed this instruction because I was so tired that I fell asleep during the meditation! On the second day, we sat next to one other person, and were asked to open ourselves up to the presence of the other person. It was fascinating to see how many people reported sensations of profound connection or even merging with the other person, as if they had a single body. On the third day, we were sitting together with the full group, and first we were asked to open ourselves up to the presence of the others, and then to hold each other's hands. In this moment, many people felt completely connected to the others, and lost a bit of their sense of self.

Many of our discussions revolved around the topics of how these practices helped to melt down the boundary between self and other. This was profoundly effected by the meditation practices we did, and of course by the fact we were staying together in a beautiful place in the French Alps. What this reminded me of is how helpful these simple practices could also be for reducing our destructive emotions, something that the next Lojong slogan talks about, which says "Train in the 3 difficulties". What this refers to is first the difficulty of becoming aware of your negative emotions, then secondly the difficulty of applying antidites to these negative emotions, and thirdly the difficulty of making the first two a habit so they change the way you are. Now when you are as profoundly connected as we were during the practices, the interesting thing is that negative emotions such as anger, jealousy and craving do not have even a chance to arise--they simply dissolve in the void. How wonderful would it be to do these practices together more often!

We also reflected on the role of the body in all this, because we found that touching each other's hands during the meditation practice had a profound effect. It dramatically amplified the feeling of having a single body with each other. Interestingly, this mirrors my findings from a dance experiment that I hope to write up soon, in which we found through working with dancers that the most powerful ways we can connect through movement is not by synchronizing our movement with another, but rather by moving as if we have a single body, or by engaging in a movement dialogue. So, it may be quite interesting to study more about how moving together can affect our thinking, and how such simple instructions ask bringing to mind the presence of others can do so. I am also curious whether we can use the perceptual decoupling state to better determine when microphenomenological interview information is reliable, and when it is less reliable (because people are not actually reliving their past experience, but rather theorizing about it). Finally, I am curious whether we can apply the experience of microphenomenology in zooming in on lived experience, and staying away from our theories about what's going on, to improve our societal discourses, which are so often stranded in these theories and stories, rather than simply being present with the facts. And the stories are what we know results in so many destructive emotions...

Explorations of mind-wandering in Ljubljana

 Last week, I taught at the TECT (Training Embodied Critical Thinking) summer school, which this year took place in Ljubljana (Slovenia). Just like last year's summer school in Iceland, it was a treat to be there. What is cool about this summer school is that it is a very interdisciplinary place where students with backgrounds ranging from architecture and design to philosophy to neuroscience to artificial intelligence get together to investigate the mind and experience. This investigation is very much grounded in the body and uses techniques such as microphenomenology, thinking at the edge, and exploring the mind through meditation.

During the summer school, I was co-teaching the track on meditation with colleagues Urban Kordes and Toma Strle, and we alternated periods of meditation with a sharing of experience during this meditation to reach a better understanding of mind-wandering. During this track, we started by practising meditation, before everyone introduced themselves, with the reasoning that by practising meditation together, you get to know each other much better than by just sharing your biography. This was proven to be indeed the case, because at the end of the week, the group naturally started to feel very connected to each other during the meditation practices, wanting to hold hands in their imagination.

Probably quite critical in this process was a mid-week excursion to explore some of the beautiful nature of Slovenia, where we wandered around in a park with beautiful caves, springs and forest. We practiced among other things a "depth walk", in which we walked around in the environment with a companion, and traced a path driven by paying attention to subtle internal cues, while at the same time we verbalized what we noticed. It is amazing how much more you notice when you walk like this! Suddenly becoming aware of angular shapes in the natural environment, the springy nature of the ground, or the play of the light. It was also very interesting to notice how this natural environment shifted our thinking patterns.

Now back to our meditation course, exploring mind-wandering in the environment of the city, we ended up with very deep discussions about what is mind-wandering, with probably the most fascinating moment being a "mind-wandering meditation", where we asked people to mind-wander, instead of meditating, and suddenly all the thoughts were gone! We also deeply went into questions of why we mind-wander, whether there is agency in mind-wandering, and how mind-wandering compares to daydreaming and other mental processes. One interesting insight that came was of the parallels between wandering the city, and wandering in our own mind in meditation, and how good that feels when we can simply wander in a non-sticky way, which is the true definition of mind-wandering according to Kalina Christoff and Zach Irving. Yet, it is not so easy to get there, but I think the practices we did during the summer school helped us to tune into that.

This brings me to the point of other practices we did during the summer school: apart from my teaching about mind-wandering and meditation, I also taught movement practices, in which we explored the body through different kinds of dance movement, to tune better into our bodies. Not only was that a great way to start a long day of discussions and thinking, but it also was so cool to bring my dance experience into work at an academic context.

In a way, the summer school was like a retreat, where I got to connect back to my embodied experience, ask big questions about my research and life in general. This is quite in line with the next #lojongchallenge slogan, number 43, which says "observe the two, even at the risk of your life". Basically the two refer here to commitments of the Buddhist teachings in general and the Lojong teachings in particular. In this case, for me the most important lesson is to not forget about the importance of and the power of meditation and tuning into experience, rather than being occupied with things that are visible from the outside, but do not lead to transformation. I myself find it particularly difficult to spend more time on meditation when I have an endless todo list (so this makes it great to have a summer school where you meditate for your job!). And yet, when I practise, I notice just how much sanity it yields, and what better way to study mind-wandering than to observe your own mind... 

Using Buddhist slogans to inspire a conducive mindset for a ballet performance

Picture by SBS foto marketing.

 In the last few days, I had the good fortune to participate in ballet performances. Finally the pandemic is allowing us to experience those again! As it turns out, the mental side of it was a pretty experiencing journey, which is also relevant to the next #lojongchallenge slogan (slogan 42) which is: whichever of the two arises, be patient. The idea of this slogan is that we constantly tend to want certain things and avoid certain other things--trying to get things we want and avoid things we do not want. I can tell you that definitely happens during a ballet performance, where there is the fear of making mistakes, or even worse, falling and injuring yourself, and the hope of shining and having a good time. Thankfully in the ballet school where I dance in Groningen, we have three shows, so when on Friday I felt quite engrossed in these thoughts about being afraid of failure and not so much able to enjoy the moment, I could play around with my mindset for the next two shows.

I realized that for me it was important to return back to my body, because our body is an anchor to experience, rather than the thinking-about-experience. What really helped me was to take time before the performance to really connect to my body by putting on my noise-cancelling headphones and doing an online class by Broche ballet. The teacher has a very calming and non-judgmental quality, really inviting dancers to inquire into their sensations and movements, rather than focusing on a correct or incorrect end-product. I also found that the beautiful music of the barre helped me to get into my happy space as well. 

View from the dressing room where I was warming up in my happy space (picture by Kelly Jennefer)

Then during the performance, I consciously practised appreciation. Rather than thinking about who was good or not good, I focused on the beauty of everyone at their own level, and consciously opening up myself to the connection with everyone who was putting together the show--in Buddhist terms: the interdependent circumstances that come together to create the performance, where everyone has their role to play (see also this quote for a beautiful description of that idea). It was amazing how much this changed my mind, because suddenly I shifted from a focus on myself to a focus on the system as a whole.

And when I was no longer overly focused on myself, I also was not drawn so much into judgments and thoughts. Because those judgments were exactly what was causing my frustration, because I started to make mistakes that I wouldn't make in class. Then the most interesting experience happened at the beginning of the last show, during a very happy tarantella dance. Somehow I sumbled over something and fell, right in the middle of the dance. Thankfully it was not a bad fall and I got up immediately and continued dancing straight away. But because now I had literally gotten back on earth, my body took over without too much jugdments and thoughts, and I enjoyed it like never before, I guess it also cannot really go down much from there! The show ended up the best one I did, simply because my mind was no longer seeking out any particular experience and rejecting others, but simply tuning in with whatever was there. In the end, I think my mindset work was almost the most fascinating part of the whole experience! 

Picture by SBS fotomarketing

In the dance where I fell flat on my face