WHAT I NEED IS A PAUSE BUTTON

Her speed was 110 rpm, her urges now-now-now. Then Laura Fraser got a fast-acting fix for impulsiveness.

O, the Oprah Magazine

May, 2005

 

IÕll just go ahead and blurt it out: I am impulsive. I like to do things fast, and do them now. My urgesÑto buy turquoise shoes, book a trip to Peru, or tell someone offÑare almost always irresistible. If IÕm upset with a friend or colleague, IÕll whip off a scathing email. I jump into flirtations with men I barely know and then get furiously hurt when they arenÕt in love with me. I always say whatÕs on my mind, even when my mind isnÕt fully engaged. My actions are immediate, but the consequencesÑembarrassment, burned bridges, badly-fitting bootsÑare lasting.

I realized I had to do something about my impulsiveness, right away, the day I had the bright idea of dyeing my old wedding dress to wear to a party. I ran to the fabric store, picked out the first color that caught my eye, ignored the directions, and threw the dye in the wash with the dress. When it came out Halloween orange, I criedÑfor my ruined dress, my stupidity, and my marriage that failed partly due to my darned impatience. I wished I could start over: undye the dress, take back what I said, and look before I leaped.

When O suggested I go off to see Sharon Salzberg for some help, I instantly agreed. It wasnÕt until I was on the plane, reading the blurb on one of her books, Loving-kindness, that I discovered sheÕs one of the countryÕs leading meditation teachers. IÕd done it again! By not thinking things through, IÕd landed in a disastrous situation. The last thing I was capable of doing was sitting still to meditate. IÕd do it wrong, fail to write the story, and the way things were going, end up waiting tables. I was an idiot, but there was no turning back.

I arrived at the hotel where Sharon was staying, expecting to meet an ethereal, remote woman in flowing robes. Instead, But when she opened to the door to her room, she was casual, sharp, and funny, and somehow made me feel as if IÕd known her for years.

I dove right in explaining that I suspect I act rashly because I canÕt bear to sit with uncomfortable feelings. In the past, IÕd managed my emotions by the mouthful, using foody to stuff down pangs of loneliness, rejection, unworthiness, or failure. After I learned to eat more mindfully, savoring every taste and smell, my impulsiveness just spun out in new directions: shooting off my mouth, cutting my own bangs, and making a general mess of my life.

Sharon seemed both amused and sympathetic, and observed that my impulsiveness isnÕt all badÑitÕs a quality thatÕs related to being spontaneous, vivid, generous, and smart. ItÕs true: IÕm happy to throw a spur-of-the-moment dinner party, IÕm quick with a retort, and I never have to return to a boutique to discover that the dress I wanted is gone. I shouldnÕt be so hard on myself for my impulsiveness, Sharon said, but learn to make my temperament work for my benefit. ÒYou can prize that adventurous spirit and become more mindful of times when youÕre hurting yourself or others,Ó she said. What I needed was to slow down my speed and momentum, take time to investigate my feelings, and create a private sense of pause. Then my reactions would be a choice, not a compulsion.

Fine, but could she fix me? Now?

Sharon suggested that I begin, as I did with my eating problems, by tuning in to pure sensation. The pace of our lives is so fast, she said, that we scarcely notice whatÕs going on around us. We get so caught up in achieving our desires and avoiding our discomforts; weÕre preoccupied with plans, distracted with wondering what other people think about us. But something as simple as concentrating on the cool, soothing sensations of washing my hands or the taste and smell of hot tea could bring me back to an awareness of the present

.That all sounded lovely, but I was impatient. ÒWhat I need,Ó I said, Òis an emergency pause button.Ó

Sharon smiled and contemplated that. First, I could get into the habit of saving my emails as drafts before hitting send. And when a strong emotion bubbled up, I could stop to check in with my physical sensations: Is my stomach clenched, heart pumping, brow sweating? That inventory might delay me long enough not to swear at a traffic cop or hang up on my sister. Given a few moments, and deep breaths, I might see that those physical sensations subside, and realize that anger, fear and disappointment arenÕt as solid and immoveable as they seem. Fierce emotions donÕt always have to be shoved away; they can be like a storm that passes.

I liked the idea of being still in a storm, not always feeing compelled to react. Now that I had a couple of tools for emergencies, maybe I could leave. But Sharon made it clear that developing a habit of tuning in to myself, of being mindful, was going to take some practice. That practice, she said, is called meditation.

ThatÕs when I was ready to bolt. The one time I tried meditating, my mind didnÕt go blank; it wandered off wildly. Sharon assured me that with the Òinsight meditationÓ she practicesÑalso known as ÒVipasssanaÓ--the point isnÕt to empty your thoughts, but to develop an awareness of them, watching them with an almost clinical eye. You concentrate on one object, such as your breath, but youÕre not messing up if you get distracted. ThatÕs just an opportunity to notice where your mind has strayed, and gently start over. The practice of letting goÑof obsessions, plans, feelings, attachments--and starting over again with compassion for yourself eventually affects the way you live. ÒWhen youÕve blurted out a comment, you donÕt lose heart and get discouraged,Ó Sharon said. ÒYou just start over.Ó

I was anxious, but Sharon told me to just close my eyes and get comfortable in my chair. She led me in three exercises that turned out to be surprisingly simple.

• Sitting meditation. The basic insight meditation is to close your eyes and bring your awareness to the feeling of your breath, whether rising in the chest or abdomen, or through your nose. ÒWhenever your mind wanders to the past, future, judgment, or speculation, you donÕt have to be harsh, but practice very gently letting go and bringing the attention back to the breath,Ó Sharon instructed.

•Walking meditation. Since most of us spend too much time in our headsÑplanning, criticizing, analyzingÑthis meditation brings us back into our bodies. ItÕs simply walking slowly, paying attention to the feeling of the feet against the ground.

• Lovingkindness. In this meditation, you choose three or four phrases that offer care and kindness to yourself and others. The traditional phrases are, ÒMay I be safe, May I be happy, May I be healthy, May I live in ease.Ó You offer these or other wishes to yourself, then extend them to friends, relatives, even people you have difficulty with, ending with phrases of love and compassion for all beings. ÒItÕs like giving yourself a gift,Ó Sharon told me.

After I tried these meditations with Sharon, I felt calm and refreshed, a state that even lasted through the lines and delays at the airport. Once home, I took her advice to meditate every day for 15 minutes if possible, but even for five if thatÕs all I had. During the first few sessions, I was angry that my timer had broken (which hadnÕt happened; it just seemed as though time had stopped). My back hurt, my legs fell asleep, my nose itched, and my mind went flying all over the place. I felt bursts of sadness, hilarity, recrimination, and despair. But I did sit it out. During one session, I had a clear image of my mind as a cluttered attic, furnished with all sorts of old petty grievances, grudges, and fears. I was starting to clear away some of the debris, giving myself room to move and breathe. And at night, I began having dreams where instead of flipping out for getting a parking ticket or having my credit card rejected, I let my anger go. Clearly, something was going on in my unconscious that my waking mind didnÕt yet grasp.

Eventually, I noticed a few times when my mind pressed the pause button on its own. When I lost my purse, I checked the car before panicking. I passed an adorable pair of sandals and heard a little voice say, ÒI have enough shoes.Ó Distressed about a work situation, instead of snapping at a colleague, I asked if I could call her back later.

After a month, I was so excited by my newfound patience that I decided to sign up for a ten-day silent retreat. Halfway through the registration form, I paused. I noticed my excitement, my gung-ho desire to achieve something--to be a truly insightful meditator-- and I thought maybe instead I could just increase my sitting time from 15 to 20 minutes each day. And then I could wait and see.

 

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