Life is fluid, dynamic, and always shifting. Ultimately, this is good news, but we have been conditioned to expect reality to be solid, fixed, and predictable. The essential groundlessness of our existence frightens us, or at best, takes us by surprise, and when that happens, we react by resisting. You don't get what you want, or you get something you don't want. People don't do what they say they will, or they do things you wish they wouldn't. We get worked up or hooked in, we collapse and cave in, we pull back, push away, or grasp at some aspect of what is happening at any given moment. These reactions are experienced physically and mentally as tension. Habitual, unconscious resistance shows up in the body-mind as contraction.

I know that many people have begun to recognize this patterning in themselves because of the pandemic, and a year or more of living with uncertainty, inconsistency, and failed expectations. Perhaps you know someone who has spent much of this time in a constant state of contraction, fighting against the limitations we need to accept in order to quell the spread of this disease.

We can’t blame COVID for our habitual resistance, however. It is such a basic and common response to living as a human that we don’t even notice it.  Yet the moment we do, we are liberated and can transform contraction into expansion.

Some years ago, I agreed to take my husband to the hospital for a minor procedure, which required him to have someone drive him home afterward.  I was struggling inwardly as we arrived on time for his appointment, troubled that I had not accomplished the writing I planned to complete before this little errand.  I hoped I could drop him off, go home for an hour, and get back to it. When we inquired, they said he would be called in about 15 minutes and the procedure would only take about 15 minutes, so we decided I should just stick around. Sounded good to me.

You know where this story is going, don’t you?

A half hour later, when they still had not come for him, I decided to have lunch in the cafeteria. In an attempt to cultivate patience, I took my time, used the meal as a chance to practice mindful eating, and returned after about 30 minutes. David was still sitting there.

I’ll spare you the details of the next part except to say that I certainly did contract. Like most of us, I have become good at resisting what life throws my way, and it happens regularly. I could feel the tension in my body take over. I heard my mind spewing thoughts about how unfair this all was, how uncaring healthcare can be. I felt frustrated with what I saw as a delay, layered with some self-judgment for being “such an impatient person.”

When they finally came to get him, I decided to sit outside in the hospital's meditation garden, which was a skillful move. As I settled into my seat, surrounded by beautiful living plants, butterflies, and sweetly singing birds, I began to relax. Then I saw the irony of my reactivity: I was being resistant to the fact that I was delayed in my writing, which that day was about (you guessed it)  resistance! I was able to smile at myself and feel grateful for irony, which is so often my teacher.

Contraction is an opportunity for mindfulness. The practice is simple: when you are contracting, notice it, and then expand. Don't judge yourself for contracting, don’t try to stop it. Just feel how you’re tightening in your body and your mind, and turn toward it with acceptance and interest.

This is a core principle of the Alexander Technique, which provides a method for restoring balance and poise to the way we use ourselves in activity. It is also a fundamental instruction of Insight meditation tradition, and lately I’ve even seen this approach promoted by positive psychology experts.

These are some tried-and-true ways to expand when you are contracting:

• Open up physically.  Spread your arms out wide and take a big, deep breath. You might not be able to do this in all social situations.

• Smile. It has to be a legitimate smile, not a phony, mask-like thing. (It worked wonders for me in this case, even though it was kind of rueful.)  Thich Nhat Hanh teaches "thinking a smile" and so do many Alexander teachers.

• Speaking of the AT, expansion can happen when you readjust how you're sitting or standing, to allow your spine to lengthen into its full integrity of support.  Notice how your shoulders let go and your breath expands when you do this.

• Open your sense perceptions. Really see, hear, smell, or feel your body weight in space.  

• Exaggerate the contraction, then release it.  Some people need to do this because they cannot feel expansion otherwise. It helps to make the tightness even tighter, and then follow the outward direction as the tension releases.

• Extend kindness to yourself. The resistance is a fear reaction to the reality of our constantly shifting, fluid, and groundless life. It is universal and very fundamental for most of us. Instead of being hard on yourself or indulging in the critical inner voice, why not be kind? A well-known meditation instruction is to “place the fearful mind in the cradle of loving kindness.”

Notice the many strategies you have for resisting life, and meet contraction as it happens. Choose to expand instead.  Practice this and see what happens:

• Holding without gripping

• Reaching without grasping

• Walking without pushing

• Working without striving

• Looking and listening without straining

Then share your results here so that others can learn from your experiments.