Yesterday I worked on a post about the "time heals all wounds" cliche. I got stuck, didn't like what I'd written and put it aside. Before I fell asleep last night I asked my brain and the Universe to come up with something more about the relationship between time and healing so I could finish the post today.
This morning I woke up with my relationship to my mind and monkey mind at the front of my awareness. Overnight my brain made a wonderful creative leap. I love when that happens.
I learned about monkey mind when I was in rehab in my early twenties. Until I got clean, I was largely unaware of what went on in my head most of the time. Clean I was confronted with a loud brain. In rehab the brain noise, coupled with a lot of feelings, often kept me awake at night.
When I got tired of spinning around in my head, I'd get up and talk to the night staff. One of the night shift regulars was a Zen Buddhist named Tom. He introduced me to monkey mind and T.D. Suzuki's Zen Mind, Beginner Mind. Tom's guidance and that book helped me start to befriend my brain.
Monkey mind is a Buddhist term used to describe the agitated, incessantly restless and easily distracted state of mind. We all have some monkey mind. Until I got clean I wasn't aware of my monkey mind or that most of the time I was listening to it. Listening to it was such an ingrained habit that even when I was doing something else, part of me was still listening.
That new awareness prompted me to really listen to what my monkey mind said rather than living with it as constant background music. I was startled by how destructive it was. I had no idea how to change that. I spent a couple years at war with my brain while I tried to make the monkey mind stop. I failed completely, but it gave me the opportunity to learn more about how monkey mind works.
My monkey mind is the voice of fear. It's convinced something "bad" is about to happen or will happen. It remembers every dire warning I've heard about not wearing sunscreen, being in my car if a tornado hits and saying the "wrong" thing. My inner critic and the judgement monster from my shadow are part of monkey mind.
So is the catastrophe factory in my head. When something unexpected occurs, the catastrophe factory fuels my jump from this minute to worst case scenario. I don't ever jump to it's all going to be fine because I might win a million dollars. I can fling myself to being homeless and pushing a shopping cart down the street talking to myself in seconds.
The catastrophe factory tries to convince me that no matter how many times I've been helped through rough spots, this is the time the Universe is going to drop kick me. Too bad. You're on your own. Lots of luck.
During the time I spent at war with my brain, I often described my mind as the thing that was trying to kill me. I was half joking, but that's how I felt. Now I can laugh at my monkey mind, but for years it wasn't funny at all. It took me a while to realize all the energy I was putting into trying to stop my monkey mind was giving it more fuel.
My brain wasn't the enemy. It's more like an extremely energetic dog that needs a job. If the dog doesn't have something to do, it gets neurotic, self-absorbed and chews up the furniture. I shifted from trying to discipline my monkey mind to giving it something else to do.
In college I was a double major in philosophy and fine arts. I like playing with ideas. I like creating. When I found myself mulling over a new idea or feeling curious about something, I investigated. That kept my brain busy. I also followed my creativity. I spent hours drawing on my jeans. I got a lot better at origami.
Unbeknownst to me, I was doing more than redirecting my monkey mind. I was developing a practice of feeding my mind, which I continue to do. I was also strengthening what I call creative mind. I had no idea I was retraining my brain. Yippee for neuroplasticity.
I've since discovered creative mind is the antidote to monkey mind. When I'm immersed in drawing,writing or some other creative project my thoughts move more like images in dreams than a bored dog chasing its tail. Monkey mind is circular and cyclic. Creative mind goes from A to Q and ends up on Saturn.
The more time I spent engaging my creative mind, the quieter my monkey mind became...at least that's what I thought was happening. When I stopped check in my monkey mind was still skwaking. I'd just learned the redirect the part of me that was listening to it all the time.
There's a huge difference in the way monkey mind and my creative mind work. Monkey mind is my brain running off by itself. It drag my heart and emotions with it, but the brain leads. Creative mind is my brain in equal partnership with my heart and intuition. My brain works much better when it doesn't play by itself.
Supporting my creative mind let me befriend my brain. Over time my creative mind has actually grown stronger than my monkey mind which results in less monkey mind period. Feeding my creative mind invites it to come out and play when I'm not drawing or writing. The fanciful leaps my creativity makes are rarely practical. I've found if I follow the leaps I often end up new solutions to problems and fun ideas. Monkey mind magnifies and manufactures problems. Creative mind dissolves or solves them in interesting ways.
Monkey mind returns to the same images over and over. Creative mind gives me great surprises. When I'm trying to figure something out I often see a little stick figure scribbling madly on a huge black chalkboard. And monkey mind...that's a tribe of gibbons skipping and whooping in my head after downing a case of Red Bull. Nuf said.
This morning I woke up with my relationship to my mind and monkey mind at the front of my awareness. Overnight my brain made a wonderful creative leap. I love when that happens.
I learned about monkey mind when I was in rehab in my early twenties. Until I got clean, I was largely unaware of what went on in my head most of the time. Clean I was confronted with a loud brain. In rehab the brain noise, coupled with a lot of feelings, often kept me awake at night.
When I got tired of spinning around in my head, I'd get up and talk to the night staff. One of the night shift regulars was a Zen Buddhist named Tom. He introduced me to monkey mind and T.D. Suzuki's Zen Mind, Beginner Mind. Tom's guidance and that book helped me start to befriend my brain.
Monkey mind is a Buddhist term used to describe the agitated, incessantly restless and easily distracted state of mind. We all have some monkey mind. Until I got clean I wasn't aware of my monkey mind or that most of the time I was listening to it. Listening to it was such an ingrained habit that even when I was doing something else, part of me was still listening.
That new awareness prompted me to really listen to what my monkey mind said rather than living with it as constant background music. I was startled by how destructive it was. I had no idea how to change that. I spent a couple years at war with my brain while I tried to make the monkey mind stop. I failed completely, but it gave me the opportunity to learn more about how monkey mind works.
My monkey mind is the voice of fear. It's convinced something "bad" is about to happen or will happen. It remembers every dire warning I've heard about not wearing sunscreen, being in my car if a tornado hits and saying the "wrong" thing. My inner critic and the judgement monster from my shadow are part of monkey mind.
So is the catastrophe factory in my head. When something unexpected occurs, the catastrophe factory fuels my jump from this minute to worst case scenario. I don't ever jump to it's all going to be fine because I might win a million dollars. I can fling myself to being homeless and pushing a shopping cart down the street talking to myself in seconds.
The catastrophe factory tries to convince me that no matter how many times I've been helped through rough spots, this is the time the Universe is going to drop kick me. Too bad. You're on your own. Lots of luck.
During the time I spent at war with my brain, I often described my mind as the thing that was trying to kill me. I was half joking, but that's how I felt. Now I can laugh at my monkey mind, but for years it wasn't funny at all. It took me a while to realize all the energy I was putting into trying to stop my monkey mind was giving it more fuel.
My brain wasn't the enemy. It's more like an extremely energetic dog that needs a job. If the dog doesn't have something to do, it gets neurotic, self-absorbed and chews up the furniture. I shifted from trying to discipline my monkey mind to giving it something else to do.
In college I was a double major in philosophy and fine arts. I like playing with ideas. I like creating. When I found myself mulling over a new idea or feeling curious about something, I investigated. That kept my brain busy. I also followed my creativity. I spent hours drawing on my jeans. I got a lot better at origami.
Unbeknownst to me, I was doing more than redirecting my monkey mind. I was developing a practice of feeding my mind, which I continue to do. I was also strengthening what I call creative mind. I had no idea I was retraining my brain. Yippee for neuroplasticity.
I've since discovered creative mind is the antidote to monkey mind. When I'm immersed in drawing,writing or some other creative project my thoughts move more like images in dreams than a bored dog chasing its tail. Monkey mind is circular and cyclic. Creative mind goes from A to Q and ends up on Saturn.
The more time I spent engaging my creative mind, the quieter my monkey mind became...at least that's what I thought was happening. When I stopped check in my monkey mind was still skwaking. I'd just learned the redirect the part of me that was listening to it all the time.
There's a huge difference in the way monkey mind and my creative mind work. Monkey mind is my brain running off by itself. It drag my heart and emotions with it, but the brain leads. Creative mind is my brain in equal partnership with my heart and intuition. My brain works much better when it doesn't play by itself.
Supporting my creative mind let me befriend my brain. Over time my creative mind has actually grown stronger than my monkey mind which results in less monkey mind period. Feeding my creative mind invites it to come out and play when I'm not drawing or writing. The fanciful leaps my creativity makes are rarely practical. I've found if I follow the leaps I often end up new solutions to problems and fun ideas. Monkey mind magnifies and manufactures problems. Creative mind dissolves or solves them in interesting ways.
Monkey mind returns to the same images over and over. Creative mind gives me great surprises. When I'm trying to figure something out I often see a little stick figure scribbling madly on a huge black chalkboard. And monkey mind...that's a tribe of gibbons skipping and whooping in my head after downing a case of Red Bull. Nuf said.
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How true this is! I'm definitely at the work in progress stage with my monkey mind.
ReplyDeleteI love the imagery of the two mindsets in this entry. My question for you is...in your personal opinion could one equate the monkey mind with the ego and if not, how do they differ?
ReplyDeleteHi Christine,
ReplyDeleteI experience monkey mind as ego playing by itself. Ego has a hand in our survival instincts, so it does have its place. Tom, the man who helped me start to see my own monkey mind, used to say ego is the thing that keeps you from walking out into traffic.
When ego isn’t in right relation to something larger than itself, it collapses into fear. Monkey mind is disconnected ego; fixated on minutiae, getting things "right", how things "should" look, etc.
Blessings!