Being the observer
Last week, I traveled home for an unexpected family visit, my aunt had passed away. She had been ill for several years, so while being sad, her death was a release for her and for her family. When you live away from home, occasions like this are jarring. They awaken the fear many emigrants have, that someday you will get the call… a parent has died and you need to return home. Such occasions also bring families together, people you likely haven’t seen in years. For me, that creates social anxiety — lots of people, lots of attention, lots of ‘on’ time.
Preparing for my journey, I could feel apprehension building, so I looked for some guidance using insight cards I bought a few years ago. These particular cards are based on teachings from psychology, Buddhism, philosophy, and other sources of wisdom. I selected the Observer, a card that invites you to take a step back, enter a more silent place, and observe the world as it unfolds before you. It urges you to feel as opposed to speaking. To sense as opposed to reacting. To realise that each moment is unique and will never repeat. That sadness and joy are like waves, ebbing and flowing. When you assume this role, breathe deeply, and consciously enter the silence, you experience the world differently.
During the funeral, I disengaged from the automatic responses to the priest’s script, from thinking about how I would later compliment the service, from my ego trying to put me at the centre of everything (how do ‘I’ feel, what if it was ‘my’ mother)… and I just observed. In that observing space, my anxiety faded and my eyes were drawn to the picture of my aunt that rested on her coffin. I was surprised not to feel sadness. I sensed her presence, her pride in her family, and her readiness to move on. I felt release, her freedom, joy. I couldn’t help but smile.
When you consciously observe, the breath feels like a calm, cooling wave. Awareness moves inward, away from the ears and eyes, creating a gentle feeling of weightlessness. The mind slows. Hands feel heavy and rest where they lie. Time does not stand still, but it seems to move at a slower pace. I think it’s the guidance Ram Dass gave us when he said to ‘be here now.’
Many of us go into ‘performance mode’ in social and work situations. We feel an expectation to be a certain way, so we assume a role. During my years working in corporations, I was ‘on’ most of the time. The role I played was always in control, always available, and never said no. Because of that, I was successful, liked, and given many great opportunities. Unfortunately, it’s also why I burned out. I remember being intrigued by people who came to meetings and seemed to sit back and just listen. Often they were the ones who would, at some point, calmly enter the conversation and make an extremely relevant point. Thinking back, they were in observation mode. They were not driven by anxiety, by ego nor distracted by the situation at hand. They were deeply quiet, inward, focused.
The next time you feel the need to go into performance mode, try, instead, to become silent, to retreat inward, to breathe deeply, and simply experience life happening, moment by moment.
References:
Insight cards: https://innercompasscards.com/
Ram Dass: https://www.ramdass.org