non-striving | meditation as a practice | day 6
more on being human
Every new year, I’m overwhelmed with two persistent messages:
First, the usual: Now is the time! Do better, be stronger, get thinner. Produce more! Drink less! Cut sugar! Now, now, now! Finally, at last, become the best version of yourself! Or even better: Become someone entirely new!
And then, its opposite: Forget about resolutions. Rebel against capitalism. Rest. Go slower. Go dark. Hibernate. Wait for spring to come. And, maybe, implied: Take your aspirations and your productivity and your goals and put them somewhere where the rest of us don’t have to look at them, not right now.
I hear all of it and I feel myself split in half. Scrolling through social media in the New Year is like being ping ponged back and forth between these two opposing narratives and none of it ever quite feels like a fit, at least not for me.
On the one hand, I agree, the cold and dark month of January realistically isn’t the best time to start hitting the gym at 5:00am and having smoothies for every meal. If we’re going to surrender all of our vices and repent, there probably aren’t many worse months in which to do it. On the other hand, I see the appeal of a clean slate, of setting and re-setting intentions aligned with personal values, of painting a new vision for a new period. I see these hopeful aspirations as the promise of light that can pull us through winter darkness. And while I’m always in favour of embracing the season we’re in, not all of us will necessarily feel like winter in the depths of winter.
For me, I’ll often find that there are ways in which I want to go slower, like sleeping in on dark and rainy mornings. And there are ways in which I’ll feel energized by a fresh start, like cracking open a new journal and writing January 1. I want to harness the energy I do have, while resisting the urge to apply it everything. There will be days when I’ll clean out kitchen cupboards, hang new shelves and organize my book collection, and there will be days when I binge watch an entire true crime series on Netflix, hardly moving, on the couch.
I’m thinking about non-striving like that. I’m thinking about it as being and accepting where we’re at – whether or not that aligns with the dominant narrative, or its opposite – on any given day. I think non-striving asks that we turn away from what others would have us feel, even how we might prefer to feel, and tune in, instead, to how we actually feel.
Acknowledging our humanness, without attempting to force, squish and mold it into something easier to understand, is non-striving. That, to me, is the real revolution. It’s permission to be seasonal, cyclical, emotional and unpredictable in our own way, and importantly, in ways an algorithm can’t pin down. We don’t need to optimize our selves and our routines just because it’s a New Year, and we don’t necessarily need to hibernate just because it’s winter. Non-striving is not needing to be anything other than what we are. Where we land on a given day is often circumstantial and more than a little mysterious. We make new space for our complete existence when we acknowledge the highs and the lows and the nuance of being human.
I’ll leave you today with the words of Pema Chodron, from her book Awakening Loving Kindness. To me, she describes non-striving best when she says:
When the weather changes and the energy simply flows through us, just as it flows through the grass and the trees and the ravens and the bears and the moose and the ocean and the rocks, we discover that we are not solid at all. If we sit still, like the mountain… in a hurricane, if we don't protect ourselves from the trueness and the vividness and the immediacy and the lack of confirmation of simply being part of life, then we are not this separate being who has to have things turn out our way.
home practice
Today, if you’ve been doing a regular meditation practice for ten minutes or more a day, keep going. The thing about these practices is they require maintenance and ongoing commitment. Without a regular practice, we’re less likely to be able to navigate skillfully in times of crisis. We practice when times are good because we know they won’t always be. We practice when times are tough because we know that’s when we need these practices most.
Today’s guided practice is a short, five-minute practice, not intended to replace your regular practice, but to turn to in between things: after a stressful meeting, on your lunch break, when you’re making the transition between your workday and your home life. It’s intended to give you an opportunity to acknowledge experience, tune into the breathing, and arrive at a broader awareness.
Five minutes of non-striving. A tiny revolution in a world of striving.
guided practice: breathing space
guidance for a self-directed practice
Find a quiet and comfortable place to settle, if you can. This practice should only take a couple of minutes. As always, you can choose to close your eyes or leave them open.
Begin by tuning into all of the dimensions of your experience. Notice: Sounds in your environment, your breathing, your body sensations, your thoughts and feelings. Cultivate this awareness for a few moments.
Narrow your attention to focus only on the breath, for about a minute. Notice: Where you feel it, its rhythm, its quality, its temperature, its depth.
Slowly broaden your attention once again, holding the breath alongside the rest of your experience, again capturing your environment, your body, your thoughts and feelings. Stay here for a few moments.
When you’re ready, return to your day.
for more
Last summer I read Jenny O’Dell’s How To Do Nothing. I still think about it all the time. This book, which seems to be part memoir, part long-form essay, is rich in reflection. Don’t be fooled by the “How To” title. This is not an instruction manual but rather a thoughtful questioning of the status quo.
In winter 2024, I read
’s insightful book, Wintering. While she frames the idea of wintering around the winter months, she also acknowledges that a winter season - a period in which we’re forced to stop, take stock, slow down - may befall our lives at any time. Regardless of whether or not our personal seasons align with the calendar, we benefit from recognizing the season we’re in and making space for it to unfold, naturally.
Do you have questions for me? As always, you can reach out to me any time at taryn.greig@gmail.com.
This is part of a 10-day series on cultivating a regular meditation practice. Feel free to share this resource with anyone who you think might appreciate it.