My father, Daniel Rabier, age 38 in 1978.
Life is unpredictable and full of uncertainty. The moment we accept this to be true is the moment we find freedom from that which we cannot control. We can’t control the pandemic or our government’s inability to protect us. We can choose to stay home and attempt to flatten the curve. We can control our ability to breathe deeply, we can control what information we invite into our mind, and what we choose to do with that information.
When my father was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in 2018, my family was told to “take it one day at a time.” As you likely recognize, this is easier said than done. Our minds search for answers that no one can provide; our natural human tendency is to anticipate the worst case scenario which causes our actions to be decided from a place of fear. However, being in the present moment is the only place where our healing can begin.
After spending one month in the Bay Area helping my father recover from his Whipple surgery, I remember sitting down on my meditation cushion asking the Universe, “what is the lesson in this? Why would you take away this person that I love, who brought me into this world and supported me throughout my thirty-three years of existence? This is cosmically f*cked up.” I had come to the conclusion that there was no reason for this to happen other than to gain life experience. We all go through loss at some point, and this was my first encounter with grief. Therein lies the lesson, I thought.
I couldn’t see it at the time, but now I know the life experience I gained using the practice of yoga to help process the loss of my father is also being used under quarantine every day. Now, my responsibility (my dharma) is to share these tools with my family, friends and community who are all struggling with anxiety and fears of the unknown.
The task is not to numb the feelings of sadness or uncertainty but rather identify the feelings and inquire how you know this to be true. Accept the feelings as they are, objectively and without searching for reason, then we can transform our experience. Only when we notice the tightness in our chest and difficulty breathing, will we mindfully breathe deeper. Only when we notice we are in denial can we come to terms with reality. The task is to witness when our emotions drive our actions irrationally and instead pause, accept, and choose a compassionate response.
In that moment, on my meditation cushion, I began my inquiry the same way I always do. By asking my Self, “are you there, conscious mind?”. This mental shift allows me to be the narrator of my story, the observer, rather than the victim. Now, it is important to recognize that our ego is always concerned with its own annihilation and will do what is needed to survive, leading to thoughts of fear, scarcity and lack. Our conscious mind, on the other hand, is made up of energy that continues throughout all eternity; this version of you is simply curious about the human experience and is unafraid of dying. Learn to identify as this conscious version of yourself and you will know no suffering. Approach the pandemic from the perspective of your conscious mind and you will no longer act out of fear.
I imagine my conscious mind responding sweetly, “yes, I am here.”
“What do you see?” I ask.
After scanning my body, breath, emotions and thoughts, She replies,
“I see a human who is suffering.”
“How do you know this human is suffering?” I inquired further.
My witness-consciousness observed heaviness in my chest, as if a pile of bricks were pressing on my sternum. The back of my eyes felt tense, almost achy, they just needed to weep and release. So I started to cry. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was feeling in my tummy, so I placed my palms there; the stomach is our emotional center and it is wise, so I listened. It felt like my guts were ripped open and pouring out of me; I needed support and comfort. Sitting there, with my arms wrapped around myself, I cradled my humanity and accepted my vulnerability.
My father will die someday.
And so will I.
That was the shift I needed to accept my grief and the circumstances of my life. I realize this sadness is wrapped in love, for if I didn’t love my father then I wouldn’t mourn his loss so much. I am grateful for the thirty-three years He chose to spend with me on Earth and the lessons that I learned, which are mine forever. Gratitude filled the void I had been cradling in my belly as I was thankful for the tools of awareness. At that moment I knew my father had prepared me for this “cosmically f*cked up” life experience. He sponsored my yoga teacher training and without these tools I would be drowning in misery.
Now, I want to share these tools with you.
First, identify what you are feeling. Name the feeling and inquire about how you know this to be true; what evidence do you have? How do you know this is what you are feeling? Where in your body are you experiencing this emotion? When I stopped to listen to the questions I had been asking the Universe, I realized they were laced with denial.
Second, accept the feelings and thoughts for what they are: feelings and thoughts. Which we know are always changing; feelings change, thoughts change, everything is impermanent. You can trust that this too shall pass. With that in mind, allow yourself to sit in the muck, the embodied interpretation of your feelings and thoughts. Whatever we resist only pushes back stronger; the more we dig our heels in, the more we are met with obstacles and suffering. I must accept that my father is sick and will die. I also had to accept that my wedding, which I had just begun planning in France, will be complicated by this uncertainty, which only aided in my anxiety. Therefore, I must accept that my father is sick AND that I am getting married. That is all.
Once you have identified your feelings and accepted them, your third task is to view them objectively. It is human nature to search for meaning and/or reason for everything. The mind loves to complicate matters and bundle experiences together and look for the missing link -- we are trying to make sense of it all. Just like my dad, who was trying to figure out why he got cancer. Even if there was a reason, it wouldn’t really matter anyway. Stop looking for reasons or excuses. There is no point in making sense of the senseless. Remove the personal attachment and act from a place of acceptance; my wedding was moved to Monterey and he still wasn’t able to attend, so David and I got married in my parent’s backyard.
Our ability to transform is only possible once we accept the circumstances of our life and remove the drama; this is the fourth step in grieving mindfully. Be patient with this one; transformation is only possible after you’ve processed your thoughts and feelings, which could take minutes or months. With this curious, yet objective, perspective we can dance with the ebb and flow of our emotions without letting them direct our actions.
When we operate from the conscious mind we will have the courage needed to embrace the greatest mystery of life: Death. My transformation began when I realized that the preciousness of life is matched by the acceptance of death. This inspired my 2020 intention of courage; I want to live my life with death in mind; to never take life for granted and pursue my dreams knowing that one day they will fizzle away into a distant memory and it doesn’t really matter anyway. In the process of taking risks I am acting from a place of courage so that when my time comes one day, I can curiously and courageously transcend to the next plane.
I hope this helps. I’d like to leave you with a few articles that have inspired me, please feel free to share your inspirations with me as well. We’re all just walking each other home, as Ram Dass says. Stay safe and stay home.
Xo, Ari
That Discomfort You Are Feeling is Grief by Scott Berinato - Harvard Business Review
Coronavirus Has Upended Our World. It’s OK To Grieve by Stephanie O’Neill - NPR