Lifestyle

Seal the deal, it's liberating

Tim Roberts was stuck in the intellectual thinking that characterises our driven and time-pressured society but
then moved out of an intellectual, evaluative way of thinking and stopped being stuck. He explains how focused
attention allows the unconscious mind to process events, integrate new meanings and create fresh perspectives

Seal of approval: seal taught Tim lesson in living as he became utterly present, accepting and liberated Photo: © SUSAN FLASHMAN – FOTOLIA.COM

Yesterday was a hard day! I facilitated a group of 30-
plus leaders from 8am to 5pm and I was drained and frustrated. The day had gone well…but only just. It was touch and go until the last hour when barriers came down
and honest and powerful feelings were vented and listened to.

People gradually moved from restating their positions and
defending their fears to asking how they could reach out to others. Agreements were only reached in the final 15 minutes!

Strangely, this is a pattern I have seen repeat with groups
many times. However long or short the time available, it is frequently the final throes, the dying minutes that contain the ability to stabilise all the preceding hesitancy, doubts, posturing and aspirations.

These are what I call holding minutes because they have the
capacity to hold all that has gone before and they symbolise the struggle.

These are very talented and committed people. However,
ability alone never makes this kind of meeting any easier. Someone described yesterday as a bumpy ride full of hope and frustration but mostly frustration. In fact, the word frustration was the most-used word by everyone during the day.

Many people assumed that frustration was a bad thing, a negative emotion that cast a shadow against the future. On the contrary, I regard frustration as a source of insight. Without frustration we would be immobilised in a static repeating pattern.

Frustration allows us to notice what’s happening and what we would rather have happen. It can be a straight-line force connecting negative feelings with unmet needs. It points to a deeper dialogue that needs to be had, if only with our self.

When used wisely, it’s valuable. If used unwisely, it surreptitiously hooks us and keeps us stuck. Frustration can be oddly addictive, if you don’t believe me look around and you’ll see frustration addicts.

At one stage yesterday we agreed that we were going round
in circles. Then we realised that, actually, we were moving forward in circles!

This reframe made all the difference. People were then able to normalise their frustration and angst and this made it a
natural part of progress. Suddenly, it became more bearable and productive.

Need to re-energise
This morning I needed to re-energise. These facilitated conversations can take days to recover from.

It is a dazzlingly beautiful day here on the west coast of New
Zealand. The sky is a crisp and clear blue with the occasional white cloud lingering over the hills. Even though it’s mid-winter, the forests on these hillsides seem to pulsate in the sunshine and it’s warm enough to wear a T-shirt.

I walked to the village centre for a flat white – an iconic New
Zealand milky coffee. I took my flat white to the nearby beach to savour both. We live in a small place by a wild and stunning beach with a large island just off the coast. On clear days we can see the snow-covered peaks of South Island and occasionally whales and dolphins skirt our beach, which is also a marine reserve.

It was high tide, which meant I had to walk close to the
waves on a thin fringe of sand. Still frustrated, I strolled along the sand. Suddenly, a wave spat out something brown and streamlined. A baby seal popped out of the water and came towards me.

It coughed and spluttered for sometime and seemed to be
exhausted. I stopped; the seal stopped. I crouched down and
waited. Over the next few minutes the seal edged closer until
we were only two metres away from each other. It seemed that we both thought this was a good distance and we stayed this way for some time.

When I moved a metre or two further away, the seal moved
a metre or two closer to me. I did this a few times and it would follow. Without anthropomorphising, it was as though we were
enjoying each other’s company.

When I first laid eyes on the seal, I was stuck in the intellectual thinking that characterises our driven and time-pressured society – even here in the South Pacific. I thought, OK this is a seal. That’s new. Who do I need to tell about this? Good, now that I’ve registered it I need to move on.

My residual frustration from yesterday was still rising, propelling
me onward.

Then I decided to wait. It was a counter-intuitive decision,
and my mind fought it like a wave of frustration rising over me
but I stayed. I wanted to protect the seal against any dogs until I knew it was okay.

Something special then happened. A black swan with a
bright beak and long slender neck flew low and slowly over my
head. It looked striking against the blue sky. Even though there
are hundreds of these swans here, today I saw this one swan
very differently.

Spacious moment
The reason it was different is that I moved out of an intellectual, evaluative way of thinking. I stopped being stuck. I appreciated the swan, and the seal, in the present moment without thoughts of the future or brooding over the past. It was a spacious moment.

As soon as I let go of the past, my frustration dropped away – it was magical and liberating. This little seal was teaching me a lesson in living.

The seal seemed entirely present and attentive to its
current environment, not aimlessly thinking or regretting or
rushing on in order to continue rushing.

Even though I live in this amazing country with seal colonies nearby, I have never been so close to a seal and never seen any on this beach.

I was able to watch as it slowly dried off and the colours of its fur changed, turning from smooth, sleek, wet and dark brown to a fluffy soft grey and ginger teddy-bear texture.

It looked cuddly and its limpid eyes added to the appeal, but it did have sharp, pointed, yellow teeth and I gather that seals can bite and occasionally carry disease.

A jogger ran past and the seal barked and chased after him
momentarily then gruffly settled down again, returning to be near to where I was.

The seal spent 30 minutes scratching, stretching and grooming.
It used its back fins like knuckles that rubbed, kneaded and smoothed its fur. I realised that I was watching a form of seal yoga. Then it basked in the sun.

Eventually it rolled onto its back, wiggled contentedly and
went to sleep. I waited there for an-hour-and-a-half, enjoying the moment and the way my life felt when I was being utterly present and accepting.

As I walked away I felt grateful. I don’t generally consider the
way my life as a whole feels, I usually analyse success, opportunity, risk and failure in separate chunks. I enjoyed feeling how my life feels – it is freeing.

Perspective
So many things had been put into perspective by this pause in
habitual and worrisome thinking. The frustrations I had carried with me from yesterday disappeared.

This is not to say that I wouldn’t do things differently the next time I meet with these leaders, I certainly will, but I no longer
need to be enslaved by going over it endlessly. This kind of
deep and focused attention allows the unconscious mind to
process events, integrate new meanings and produce fresh perspectives. It is eminently restorative and far more effective than trying to argue with oneself.

The very act of arguing or “telling” our self not to think like
this locks us in a negative spiral at the same level of the thought that is creating it. Dropping through this level of thinking by stepping fully into the present moment is a way to change thinking patterns.

Maybe this seal was a Zen master; a bodhisattva…or maybe
it was her very ordinariness that made her special.

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