The heart crosses the abyss
Over the last couple of years I’ve guided over 140 meditation sessions through workshops, courses and retreats. It has rarely felt like work. The funny part about it is that I never set an intention or a goal to do any of this. After getting burned out from running my startup, I was really at a loss at what to do. It was my “quarter-life spiritual crisis” in the form of debilitating mental and emotional exhaustion.
What I’d done in the past clearly wasn’t working. All of the usual trappings of success and hard-work and pushing through had brought me to a dead-end. And so, really with no other option, the route I decided to take after this was simply this: “do the exact opposite of what I did before.”
My mindset before looked like this: start a business, focus on money, work hard, have a big goal, and do it remotely so that I could be “free”. This narrative came mostly from society, a desire to “prove oneself” and a hyper-active nervous system. Flipping this mindset on its head, I decided to not start a business, not work hard, not focus on money, not have a goal, and do things mostly offline. In other words, “do it because you love it and forget the rest.”
This approach is familiar to starving artists who have taken the plunge, but for many people, even the risk-hungry entrepreneur, it can feel antithetical to progress. Busy-ness and goals are idealized in our society, so to reject this can be seen as the ultimate middle-finger, or down-right lazy and useless. This is the risk you take when you follow the heart. The mind, and the minds of those around you, are prone to criticism.
Sri Nisargadatta once said,
“the mind creates the abyss, the heart crosses it.”
In life we often make the “rational” choice, find the “best” option and calculate our “optimal” strategy for life. Often we do this without consulting the true feelings and desires we have buried within us, leading us astray. This was very much my case, even if I didn’t realize it at the time. The suppression of our truest wishes is a habit and often goes unnoticed. To undo the habit it usually takes a big wake-up call – usually the loss of a loved one, the loss of a job, our health or dreams – before we can reorient ourselves to what's really important.
Following a pathless path
“The pathless path is an alternative to the default path. It is an embrace of uncertainty and discomfort.” - Paul Millerd
So, I decide to follow my heart. Specifically, a desire to connect with like-minded people in the meditation community. The zen groups I’d found already were a bit too serious for my liking and I wanted something more casual. So, I created a meetup group on meetup.com called “Mindfulness meditation meetup.” Taking the easiest route possible, I copied my Dutch friend’s meetup group with the same name and content (thanks Merijn!).
I charged money to cover costs and ran it every week in my apartment. This forced me to develop a new skill that I didn’t have: guiding meditations. What content would I bring, and how would I deliver this guidance? I began to have more respect for meditation teachers whose guidance appeared to be so smooth. My inflection made it awkward at times and the content was mostly just “focus on your breath” said in different ways (I have since improved).
Yet it appeared I was doing something right. After a few weeks, more people started to come, and I began to do it in a bigger yoga studio. This organically expanded to half-day events, full-day and multi-day events. What else do I like to do? I partnered with other teachers and coaches to do joint workshops. My compass for all of this was, “is it fun? Does it feel like work?” Basically, anything I do I would be happy to do by myself, and having a group together made it all the merrier.
Testing my faith
But old habits die hard. There were times where I began to feel like I’m “not doing enough.” I felt a familiar stress re-emerge that manifested as over-planning, perfectionism, unnecessary worry about the future. As soon as this happened, I felt pulled out of the flow and out of the joy of what I was doing.
My mind created stories. The financial reality was becoming harder to ignore. Would I really be able to do this as a full-time thing? I went into defensive mode and created a plan B, even though I never really had a plan A. I polished the CV and sent it to a few recruitment companies (my previous career), and landed a few job interviews.
Sitting across the table for interviews with executives felt very different than before. Whereas in the past there was insecurity, perhaps fear of being judged, now I was able to just be with them as fellow human beings. Maybe it was emotional maturity, all that meditation, or just a nonchalance about the whole thing. When I got a few job offers it was a temporary boost to my confidence. I accepted a job offer and before starting, went to a ten-day meditation retreat. The retreat quickly brought me back to my north star. Oh…I didn’t want to go “back” to my old days as a sales person…
And yet, I was reminded of something Jack Kornfield said when talking about integrating our insights from meditation into daily life. He described that after emerging from the bliss, ecstasy, and realization of non-dual states, you bring back what you learned to the community. Perhaps going back into a company was my way of sharing what I learned through meditation and spirituality and making a positive impact on the world.
Alas, it was not. After a whole 9 business days at the company, I felt out of place, bored, and more stressed than ever before. The job was not new, but I was a completely different person and the whole system no longer appealed to me. I couldn’t bring myself to keep going, and I called it quits after 9 days. Breaking records!
While my friends and family were confused, I was very happy with my decision. My “time to quit” had greatly reduced. To me this was a sign that my internal compass was strong. There was a clarity that emerged from stepping off my path. Nope, wrong direction. I had spent a lot of time tending to the heart that it was now impossible to ignore.
What if you had 1 year to live?
I’m about half-way through a 2-year Mindfulness teacher training with Jack Kornfield and Tara Brach. One of the meditations that Tara led invited us to imagine we had one year to live. And then 6 months, 1 month, 1 week, 1 day…How would our priorities change? What would we do differently? What has been undone, unsaid, and unfelt in our lives?
The problem is that most of us think we have time. Of course, there is absolutely zero guarantee that you’re going to make it another day. I started to practice this visualization as a method to keep myself on track and as a reminder to do what I love. If I am not doing what I want now, then when will be the right time? It will never come if I keep deferring my life to a future that is far from certain.
At the end of a mindfulness hike that I organized recently, I found myself pondering these words again. Spontaneously, as much of what I say is nowadays, I said something like this, “What would I be doing if I had only a year to live? The exact same thing I am doing now. Hanging out with you guys. Meditating in nature.” And I really did mean it.
Today, I’m still trying new things. I’m having fun, working less, and following my compass. I don’t know what I’ll be doing in a year from now. The plan is to continue without a plan and see where it takes me. I’m starting to enjoy the reaction on people’s faces when I tell them there is no big goal. I don’t have it “figured out” by any means, and I’m not sure I ever will. And that’s totally alright by me.
I noticed many who go through the 'corporate -> startup -> realizing achieving preconceived notions of success won't make them happy/fulfilled' path typically have this narrative, that they were working hard for external goals, but the psychological negative externalities associated with pursuing those goals made them correct course. I wonder if it is possible to skip the initial phase of chasing the external goals to begin with.
If we want communal change (of the type you allude to), I think we need a culture that doesn't indoctrinate people with the myth of the external. Pieces like this one help write over that cultural narrative; thanks for that.
This is so inspiring, Misha. Keep it coming!