We’re All Just Flowers Blowin In The Wind
by Kaiulani Kimbrell
Shortly after I was 19, and had hit my first couple of “dark nights of the soul,” I began searching.
And oh did I search.
There is not room in this blog to go into the stories of those searches, but one of the first things I found as I stalked the self help, religion and philosophy aisles of Barnes & Noble, was a form of meditation called Insight Meditation. I was living in Northern Virginia at the time, and there was (and still is) a great community called IMCW (Insight Meditation Community of Washington) and every Wednesday night I would go and meditate with Tara Brach who led the practice.
I remember being in the sanctuary, the lights low with a hundred or so of us sitting straight backed on our cushions on the hard wooden floor listening to Tara lead us through the first part of the meditation before we would go into total silence. She would remind us that our thoughts were like clouds passing through, and to not attach on to any one of them. They were going to come, it was inevitable, but the point of meditation wasn’t to not have a thought, that was impossible, but to see and be unattached to the thought. When we don’t latch onto any single “cloud” or thought we allow ourselves the opportunity of getting to see what really lives underneath it all, our true identity. Presence. Reality. And suddenly life, while very important and meaningful, begins to lose it’s excessive drama. In a really nice way.
This past week I was speaking with a dear friend going through lots of changes and mental perseveration, and it was certainly a mirror of how I tend to think as well: “Should I do this or that? Is this right or is that right?” And basically just thinking and worrying to avoid being with what’s underneath it all. And what’s underneath it all, for many of us is usually a lot of old hurt. This sort of attachment to thinking is what addiction is. Doing something excessively to distract from the pain. Choosing one pain to mask a more core underlying one.
We can occupy ourselves so much with thinking and worrying that we shield ourselves from the present moment. And I know that when I get lost in my thinking I have latched onto a whole sky full of clouds and I become lost, literally blocked in that overcast sky of thinking. When people use the term, ‘things became “cloudy”’ well, I think we can take that literally now.
So I said to my beautiful friend, “Imagine you’re a flower” (guys if that’s too girly, any plant will do- be a tomato plant if you want).
“Imagine you’re a flower and all these gusts of wind are coming and your flopping back and forth, back and forth, maybe you’ve even lose a few petals, but your roots are in the soil. You’re firmly planted. You’re here.”
See, my friend, like me, was thinking each gust of wind had to do with the reality of her self. But no, they are really not connected at all. In this example, she’s a flower, the “thinking” is the wind. And because she was confusing herself with the wind, she gave theses gusts lot’s of meaning. She felt she had to make a big decision with each gust.
But honestly, a gust of wind is just a gust of wind. And if you’re a flower, your only job is to be a flower and when wind comes, just let yourself be blown a little bit and surrender. Not take the gusts so personally.
So, the real question for me, is why do I have to keep my mind so mentally busy? What does my busyness fill? What is so loathsome, scary and lonely that a reality of worry, negativity, obsession, fear, second-guessing, resentment, perfectionism or rushing becomes more enticing than a mind at peace?
If you have been on a silent meditation retreat, which I have, and am probably long overdue for one, you know the terror that can come up about halfway through. The mind feels like it is going MAD. Literally. The detox from excessive thought is like a detox from drugs and it can be excruciating. It is like a death because everything you identified with as reality, all your dogma and beliefs and ideals, just get shattered. And you see what remains. It’s the most profound experience. To be truly still and to discover for oneself what is ultimately unchanging. It is not a dead or passive state at all. It is very much alive. It is very much awake and alert, but very much at peace, because there is nothing else to run from.
I am so far from this place today its kind of saddish funny. But I know it exists, because I’ve touched it and lived it. And I LOVE that I get to learn about who I am through my often busy and worried mind because the worry gets so bad it forces me into an inquiry to uncover and heal my fear of presence and my addiction to thought, worry and obsession to getting things right.
For those of us that think to the point of dysfunction, these were often advanced coping mechanisms we used to survive as a small child, but they can really complicate and louse up an adult life.
Oh compassion, as we learn, grow and change…
What scares you? Do you keep a busy life and or consistent crisis in your life to keep yourself safe and from feeling alone? I want to hear from you.
Busy Mind or Still Mind, you’re not alone. We’re all just flowers blowin in the wind.
Love, Kaiulani
PS: Although I do meditate daily, I don’t practice Insight Meditation today. I sort of do a compilation of many things I’ve learned over the years, which boils down to sitting and being still for a few moments each day… I recommend it. I don’t sit on an uncomfortable cushion anymore either. I graduated to a comfy chair, my bed or leaning againt the back of a tree if I’m outside. 
