Why am I doing this?

doubt, touching the Earth, and rekindling intimacy and trust

I recently returned from two weeks of silence and meditation. No phone or computer. No meetings, shopping, cooking or chatting. Just slowing down, settling, sensing, feeling, breathing and being.

Two weeks of letting go of who I think I am, to remember who I really am.

There was much depth and beauty. Opening my senses to drink in the full-spectrum majesty of this world: banks of lavender alive with honeybees; tiny flowers emerging victorious from the flowing river; meditating alone on its banks caressed by the dance of dappled sunlight through leaves.

I could go on and on about how extraordinary the everyday becomes when seen, felt and known so intimately. But really it’s this intimacy itself which heals, transforms and liberates.

It is resting in that which knows this moment which is the true homecoming. Resting in the enveloping, inclusive, unperturbed, all-seeing, intelligent, aliveness of this mystery - sometimes called presence, awareness or love. It is this that our hearts most long for.

It feels important to remember this because it can be easy to over-focus on the passing states as if they were what matters most. We might feel expansive and clear during a powerful meditation, then something happens and we feel contracted and confused and we think we’ve lost something. But when we really pay attention we see that which knows this remains: lucid, curious, kind and alive. Presence, awareness, love is always here. All we have to do is remember to notice it.

Life is always both easy and difficult, beautiful and painful. Even in such a supportive environment, there were times on retreat that were deeply uncomfortable. Without our usual distractions, old undigested emotions and unexamined narratives tend to show up, often in the guise of discomfort or resistance. My practice was to release the stories and attend to the feelings behind them, until they put down their weapons and gratefully fell into the arms of loving presence. In those arms, thoughts and emotions were able to flow through me unimpeded, like rivers to the sea.

Retreat space is a deeply, deeply healing space - even (or especially) when it feels uncomfortable.

Doubt

But a new experience for me on this retreat was doubt. This isn’t unusual: without our usual roles and identities, coping mechanisms, feedback and reassurance from others, there can be moments of feeling naked, exposed and groundless, and what often follows is something like this:

“Hang on, why am I here? Why am I doing this? I could be having FUN somewhere else!”

Even for me, in a place I loved, doing what I loved and feeling more alive and connected than ever, some part of my mind scrambled to keep its footing. Some part of me tried to pull me away from continuing to soften and relax my well-defined and carefully curated sense of self. Some part of me thought it was losing something. Forgetting that we don’t relax into being nothing: we relax into being everything.

The Buddha made a point of normalising doubt. He encouraged us to recognise its stories and hold its presence lightly. Folklore tells us how he encountered it as he sat at the cusp of liberating his heart and mind: doubt rose up in the form of a demon called Mara who snarled, “Who do you think you are, sitting here trying to attain enlightenment? Who do you think you are to be worthy of awakening? Who will bear witness to your worth?”

Doubt comes for us all. But like all things in life, what matters is how we respond.

When faced by Mara’s pernicious doubt, rather than crumbling, arguing or proclaiming his worth, the Buddha simply reached down to touch the Earth.

Buddha touching the Earth

I love imagining the Buddha doing this. Sitting under a sacred fig tree, tormented by self-doubt, and reaching down to touch the Earth.

I often wonder:

How would it be for us if we also reached down to touch the Earth whenever we felt afraid, shaken and confused?

How would life on Earth unfold if we were to let go of our well-intentioned but misdirected habits of demanding, defending and distracting, to simply touch the Earth with trust and reverence, asking to be held and guided back into remembering who we really are?

The circus of social media shows us how painful and unfulfilling it is to search for worth, love, belonging and validation from others. How empty is feels to search for meaning through success, status, power, influence or beauty.

The liberating truth is that this Earth is the most authentic witness to our worth there could ever be. We all belong here just because we’re here, spinning together on this blue-green jewel through space. We’re all made of the same molecules circulating between us. A water molecule splashed on your face this morning may once have been part of an ancient river or comet. An air molecule you’re breathing right now might once have been exhaled by Mary Magdalene.

So the deeper truth of reality is this: we’re all connected; you belong here because you’re here; and what you do matters.

These were messages I received again and again during those two weeks of retreat. What came with them was a deep heart-knowing that even though so much is unravelling in our lives and the world, there is a fundamental goodness underlying it all. A goodness which can only be felt and known by the heart, beyond the outrage and arguments of the mind.

It’s as the 14th-century English anchoress and mystic Julian of Norwich said (most likely after a near-death experience):

“All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”

The fundamental ground of reality is already whole, complete and radiant. The fundamental ground of reality is love.

So even here on this beautiful but fractured planet, ultimately all shall be well. Not because we do nothing, but precisely because of all that we do because we care. All shall be well exactly because each of us continues to show up in our unique, ordinary and extraordinary ways, to do what is ours to do.

All shall be well because what we do matters, whether visible or not, applauded or not. All shall be well because the ripples of every movement of body, heart and mind spread far and wide in ways we can’t fathom. So how much we care, what we think and how we interact with others actually creates the fabric of our lives and societies.

This was the message I received: we’re all connected, we all belong here, and what we all do matters.

So when doubt tried to tell me that I’d gone far enough, I went to my quiet meditation spot by the river and touched the Earth. I asked to be held and guided, asked to be shown the way. And I was reminded that this is the way and this is why I’m here.

To learn how to be in an open-hearted, un-conflicted, uninhibited relationship with life, even when it hurts.

To remember that it’s always possible to love what’s here, even when I don’t like it.

To remember that embracing this moment with love allows me to respond with love, and love’s response is what the world needs.

The image I received was this.

That we’re waves remembering ourselves to be the ocean. Aligning our infinite creative potential with love’s ocean as we move through the classroom of life. Learning how to act from love. Learning how to be creators of love. It takes time. We mess up. But we keep practising anyway.

That’s why we do this. And that’s why this matters.

Beauty, power, insignificance and meaning, at the foot of a waterfall in Zambia

The Practical Steps

Alongside these deep insights, I brought home some practical steps which support me just as much (if not more) as I integrate back into daily life.

I remembered how good it feels to be truly rested.

How nourishing it feels to be grateful.

And how empty it feels to be hijacked by technology.

What about you?

How often do you prioritise busyness over rest, even when its available to you? How often do you stimulate yourself with films or mindless scrolling late into the evening, even when you’re tired?

How often do you make space to appreciate what you’re grateful for, even when life is challenging?

How often is your phone the first thing you pay attention to when you wake up in the morning?

Here are a few things I’ve committed to cultivating since returning from retreat:

Whenever possible, I allow myself to lie down after lunch for a moment of deep rest and reset in yoga nidra (yogic relaxation), even if it’s only for a few minutes.

When I’m just waking up and before going to sleep, I pause for a few moments to remember what I’m grateful for, and to really feel these blessings in my heart.

Most transformative of all has been this: the simple act of turning off my phone before going to sleep and choosing not to turn it on again until after my morning practice.

Being free from the tyranny of technology for two weeks made it clearer than ever that its addictive pull is utterly empty of true nourishment and joy. Though of course these machines - like so much of modern life - have extraordinary and brilliant potential, we need to be the ones in charge.

We need to know why we’re doing this.

Join me

Silent yoga and meditation retreat: I will be returning to the gentle meadows, powerful river, ancient trees, mature bamboo grove and loving community of the Moulin de Chaves in France this September/October. The group that is gathering is already very special, and you are warmly welcome to join us. You don’t need prior yoga or meditation experience - all you need is the willingness and curiosity to meet life with love. You can read more about it here, and feel free to email me with any questions you have as well.

Yoga and meditation class: From September 5th, I’m starting a weekly two-hour, open level, yoga and meditation class on Fridays from 10.30am-12.30pm. I have recently visited the space (HOME, which is now open) and it’s really beautiful. It’s a new incarnation of the original triyoga in Primrose Hill… where I first taught in 2001… where I moved through my second and third pregnancies and where my babies and toddlers would visit… where I met so many of the incredible people who continue to be the heart and soul of my community today… and where I came to grow up, inside and out. So it feels like a beautiful full circle to be returning to the same (but completely new) space to create a regular weekly sanctuary for us to align, enliven and inhabit our bodies… soften and open our hearts… settle and still our minds… and most importantly of all, a sanctuary where we can be together! Read more here (and mark your diaries for September 5th!)

Why are we doing this?

Because it brings us alive, and because it brings more love into this precious blue-green jewel spinning through space.

What else is there to do?