“Your life becomes the shape of the days you inhabit” - John O’Donohue
Perhaps more so than any other month of the year, October draws our awareness to the patterns and rhythm of the natural world. It is a month of shifting light and color with spectacular and dramatic seasonal changes that capture our attention each passing day. Leaves that one day vibrate with brilliant reds and yellows can, the next day, become a soggy pile at the base of a barren tree. Daylight slides into night at a speed that catches us off guard while the temperature fluctuates from weirdly warm to surprisingly cold. Growing up in western New York, snowflakes were not uncommon on Halloween. The fluctuations of October are an anticipated and predictable chain of events, one of the many patterns in the external world that give our lives rhythm and anchor us in time. They serve as an important lookout point from which we can view the road ahead while looking back on where we have been.
Life is defined by patterns. Stop for a moment to notice all the patterns surrounding you. Look up and you will see things that are high; look down and you will notice things that are low. Listen and you will hear things far away and sounds that are up close. Part of the room may be light while the other is dark. You can feel sensations on the bottom of your feet or the top of your head. Up and down, near and far, light and dark, bottom and top—all patterns are formed by contrasts.
Just as the pattern of a chessboard is formed by the contrast of dark and light squares, upon reflection, we can see that our lives are also defined by contrast. Drawing our attention inward, we notice how periods of ease and struggle, joy and sorrow, good times and bad, all brought us to this particular moment in time. Even those experiences that were painful when they happened played an important role in bringing you where you are right now. We see that life is not a series of chaotic, random events but is a mosaic, with each contrasting experience contributing to the whole.
At its most basic level a pattern is simply a combination of elements that are repeated. In life, these elements range from mundane daily behaviors, such as a morning cup of coffee or walking the dog, to deeply rooted belief systems cultivated throughout a lifetime. The patterns formed by our thoughts and behaviors define the ebb and flow of our lives. They give shape to our lives, orienting us to time and place, providing stability and predictability while nurturing feelings of safety. Without these patterns, life can feel bewildering and overwhelming.
Patterns persist because they serve a purpose. For many years, the changing colors of the leaves were thought to be a visually pleasing side effect of decreasing levels of chlorophyll in the leaf. Recent studies of plant leaves may prove otherwise. Trees are vulnerable as they prepare for winter. The reds and yellows of autumn are important to the immunity of the tree and its ability to bounce back in the spring. Anthocyanin, the chemical that creates the color red in leaves, acts as a sunscreen. It protects the plant from losing nitrogen, which helps it to be reabsorbed into the tree’s branches and trunk so it can be used in the spring. Leaf colors may repel certain invasive insect species from laying eggs on the leaves during this vulnerable time in the tree’s life cycle. The change in color may also dissuade animals from eating its leaves as the different colors reduce camouflage. What seemed to be an arbitrary pattern of “left over” color is now understood to be essential to the long-term health of the tree.
What is true for the utility of color in tree leaves rings true for the patterns we establish in our lives. Patterns are not arbitrary; they spring from necessity. They start out as a thought that emerges in response to an event. From this thought grows intention which directs our actions. These thoughts and behaviors establish roots as their ability to fulfill a need grows. Along the way these responses get attached to other thoughts and behaviors, which merge to form a pattern. When these patterns are aligned with what is important to us in life they will, like the reds and yellows of autumn leaves, support us through the ups and downs in life, boosting our resistance when we are vulnerable and providing strength to help us bounce back.
Our habitual patterns become paths. If the path is clear and spacious, we will navigate it skillfully, moving with a rhythm that is smooth and seamless, referred to as a sense of flow. This experience is what athletes, dancers, and musicians describe as being in a “zone” – a space in which we are totally absorbed in a task, moving with focused concentration and a sense of resonance. These are the patterns that support and enrich our lives. Other patterns can draw us down a narrow, dark, and constricted path, pulling us into the ruts of life. We feel boxed in, stuck, unmovable. Every day is Groundhog Day and we lose sight of where we are headed. Finding yourself in a rut is a sign that your patterns are outdated, that what once may have helped is no longer serving you.
How do we allow ourselves to get stuck? Why can’t we just jump off out of the rut and blaze a new path? The mental patterns that are deeply ingrained and have fallen out of our awareness are those which are the hardest to change. Over time these patterns become default settings that emerge when we operate on autopilot. At one time they may have been useful, but they have outgrown their utility. Changing these patterns is hard work, but with intention we can blaze new paths that are robust and versatile. Imagine that you wanted to find your way to a beautiful white sand beach but there were no paths to get you there. To get to the beach you would need to blaze a trail through a dense jungle, using only a machete. The first several journeys would be exhausting and strenuous. Each time you travel the path you clear more brush until eventually it gets easier. Such is the effort and intention required to create a new path. Abandoning outdated patterns requires dedication and commitment. Athletes don't find their "zone" overnight. It takes years of practice and repetition to establish patterns that will help them step into that sense of flow.
Where do we start? How do we become aware of the patterns that operate deep within us? Thich Nhat Hanh uses the metaphor of watering flowers to illustrate how we can break free from unhealthy and harmful ruts. Whenever we allow our thoughts to either ruminate on the past or fantasize about the future, we are watering weeds in our mind’s garden. These weeds grow into emotional states of regret, fear, anger, frustration, guilt, jealousy, and envy. By watering them they grow taller and pricklier, eventually choking out the flowers. He tells us that when we notice our minds thinking about weeds, we should stop watering them and instead tend to the flowers. Through the power of intention, we can cultivate emotional states that bring ease to life, such as joy, compassion, and equanimity. As our weeds shrivel and die, a path to our flowers appears. This becomes the garden we water.
As you watch the seasonal changes of October, I invite you to turn your attention inward to uncover the patterns that shape your life. Which ones cultivate a sense of flow, provide balance, keep you fully engaged in the present? Be aware of the ruts in which you feel confined, stuck, immobilized. Can you tap into the power of intention to blaze a new path and find your flow? When you find yourself stuck in patterns of rumination or longing, will you stop watering your weeds? With effort and intention, we all have the capacity to change the shape of the days we inhabit.
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