7 Life Lessons I Learned During a Weekend Retreat About Uncertainty
That Have Dramatically Improved My Mental Health And Brought My Smile Back
Hello, dear one!
I hope this piece of writing finds you at ease, or at least in a space where your suffering isn’t too overwhelming.
I feel compelled to share these lessons with you after emerging from a three-day online retreat led by one of my favorite mindfulness and meditation teachers, Chas Dicapua.
The theme of the retreat was about leaning into the uncertainty of life, as we are now presented with more darkness here in the northern hemisphere.
To be honest, it couldn’t have been more timely because I’ve been dealing with a ton of uncertainty, specifically around my 9-5 job.
I’m an elementary school teacher by trade and training, and I teach third and fourth grade. However, I’ve been out of the classroom for two years exploring different jobs. Therefore, my return hasn’t been a smooth ride.
I have fifteen students, which is a small class size, but the needs are massive.
I have several neurodivergent students who have been officially diagnosed with ADHD, and I’m not one to diagnose, but I can imagine there are a few others who could fall into that category. I have at least half a dozen students who have experienced significant trauma in their lives, including witnessing domestic abuse, being a victim of verbal or physical abuse, and even being victims of sexual abuse.
Needless to say, the experience these children have had can create a classroom environment that can get very overstimulating very quickly.
It even got to a point where I questioned whether I would continue with the rest of the school year.
However, Chas’s wisdom and our practice together seemed to hit me just at the right time.
Here are 7 lessons I left the retreat with that have dramatically boosted my mental health and have me smiling again.
Lesson 1: The quality of my mental health is determined by what I pay attention to
When I get caught in the doom and gloom, I feel depressed.
When I get caught in the worries of later today, tomorrow, or other people’s opinions, I feel anxious.
This may seem obvious, but it’s not always obvious when you’re caught in the depths of depression or the perils of anxiety. The nervous system is hijacked and put into a learned helplessness mode, or a fight-flight-freeze mode.
Thus, it makes you feel trapped.
However, when I turn my attention to the good that’s happening around me, my internal state shifts. It’s subtle at first, but it becomes more expansive as I continue to recognize the goodness that’s present in my world.
There’s a lot of goodness in the students I work with.
There’s a lot of goodness in the work that I do with them.
And there’s a lot of goodness in my heart and in my daily actions.
Not just in the classroom, but also in my relationships and personal endeavors, like this newsletter and the mindfulness services I provide.
Lesson 2: Much of my suffering is rooted in attachment to mind-made stories
I love latching onto stories despite the suffering they cause.
Like many humans, I get attached to how life “should be”, and in that attachment, I can’t reconcile with “what is.” For example, I was recently frustrated at the regression of my students’ behavior toward one another.
I took that personally.
I felt like I wasn’t doing my job as a teacher, and that I was a failure.
This caused me to spiral into a deep, ruminative depressive experience that lasted the better portion of a couple of weeks. Each day was tainted with mind fog and negativity goggles. The world I was living in felt bleak, and it seemed like there was no escape.
But through my retreat, I recognized how much I was holding onto.
I realized this through observing my mind and turning my attention inward toward my body. I felt the tightness in my chest, along with the tension in my neck and shoulders.
And boy, was that unpleasant.
However, when I allowed my body to soften and let go of those thoughts, I was able to cultivate a sense of stillness within.
That stillness became my refuge amidst all the unknowing that was occurring.
Lesson 3: My body can be a refuge during times of uncertainty
When life becomes turbulent, my mind gets quite active.
It resorts to all-or-nothing thinking. It believes all the negative stories that are rooted in delusion and doubt. It also becomes this endless workhorse for trying to figure out how to dig my way out of all that.
However, Chas reminded me of this:
You don’t have to figure it all out.
That piece of wisdom itself was worth the price of admission for the retreat.
I also started to realize that when my mind soaks itself in uncertainty, I can turn to my body and realize that I’m truly safe.
My heart is still beating.
My body is grounded on the Earth.
In that space, I return to the spaciousness that’s always present within me.
From that space, I can see clearly.
Lesson 4: Abstinence from intoxicants makes a massive difference in clarity of mind
I’ve smoked pot and drank alcohol for the better part of the last sixteen years.
What was once a way to unwind and socialize with friends after a long week became a habit of numbing the pain I feel when I experience unpleasant life events.
These events have included:
Breakups
Sports injuries
Existential crises
And much more that I’ll mention later.
Although these substances provided me with some temporary comfort amidst discomfort, there was never a net positive return.
Instead, I always woke up the next day with brain fog, and that fog would often carry over across multiple days if I decided to keep indulging in intoxicants.
However, before the retreat this past weekend, I decided to put a stop to the use of intoxicants.
I wanted to do it as an experiment.
And although I’m just at the beginning of my sobriety journey, I’ve come to conclude that nothing beats a clear mind.
Why?
Because a clear mind makes all the difference when navigating the inevitable uncertainty and pain that we experience in our human existence.
It allows me to see my pain as temporary, and it allows me to be with that pain faithfully and trust that it will pass.
Lesson 5: My portal to peace isn’t through acquisition, it’s through letting go
As an athlete, I’ve been conditioned to have a “more mindset.”
More reps. More effort. More intensity.
If I can cultivate that “more mindset”, then all my dreams will come true.
Sounds great in a Rocky film or on a David Goggins Instagram post, but I often forget I’m not Rocky or David Goggins.
Paradoxically, I feel more alive and at ease with the more that I let go.
When I let go of the all-or-nothing thinking, the belief that I’m a failure, the belief I need to figure my life out, I feel content.
And no dollar amount can replace that feeling because it can only come from within.
This practice was cultivated this weekend with every meditation.
As Chas reminded us of this:
“Die into the present moment with every out breath.”
How about that for some spiritual sauce?
Lesson 6: My suffering isn’t my fault
Your suffering isn’t personal.
That was another wonderful one-liner from Chas that struck my heart like an arrow of compassion.
For most of my life, I’ve blamed myself for a lot of the pain I’ve experienced:
I should’ve been a better son
I could’ve been a better student
I could’ve been a better boyfriend
I could’ve taken better care of my body to prevent injury
I should’ve trusted the people I was in a relationship with
I could’ve fulfilled my potential as an athlete if I were more disciplined
I could be a more effective teacher if I dedicated myself more to the craft
I could be holding a different amount of financial wealth if I hadn’t wasted it on marijuana and alcohol
These were the stories I held onto for so long that have caused a lot of suffering in my life.
However, the reality is that there’s nothing personal about suffering.
As humans, we often share in these experiences. They just take slightly different forms.
This was a heartfelt reminder to continue recognizing and letting go of unnecessary suffering.
Lesson 7: I don’t need to rush anything
In a world predicated on pace, it’s a radical act to slow down.
Chas’s teaching on moving your body 10% slower radiated through my being with every step, every breath, every morsel of food I brought to my mouth, and every piece of clothing I folded.
It was also a reminder that despite society’s insistence on moving at a frenetic pace, I don’t have to buy into that story.
Instead, I can choose my own way of being.
Because after all, the more I slow down, the more I can touch what’s here.
And the present moment is where all the beauty is held.
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This piece really speaks to me. It’s exactly what I need to hear in this moment. Thank you.