Last evening I went to the monthly Helena Noetics gathering (http://www.helenanoetics.com/) to hear Nancy Cobble share insights into her work in the field of MBSR - Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction pioneered by Jon Kabat-Zinn. After querying us about our reference point with mindfulness and all that it might mean, she distributed several small boxes of raisins. We were to take one raisin and sense it in as many ways possible…everything except taste, which would come last.
Flat on one side with concentric rings similar to those you’d see in a tree trunk, the other side of my raisin expressed its multi-dimensionality. I found a cave like structure in one of the wrinkles and from another view, saw a clam with a face. Oh, if raisins could talk, I decided, this one would draw on the history recorded on the flip side and tell me tales I could never imagine as it had grown and developed on the vine to then be plucked and dried in the sun.
“OK, now,” Nancy encouraged, “put the raisin in your mouth, roll it around, feel the texture with your tongue, bite into it, search out the flavor.”
I had to remind myself this was just a raisin. In the moment during which I’d contemplated it in my hand, it had begun to develop character and personality, which, without thinking, I’d put a swift end to between my teeth. There were two raisins to follow and we took them through the same process. Fortunately, my second resembled a brain with a clear distinction between the two hemispheres. I imagined an autopsy. If this “brain” could talk, I’d ask it what it could see in the distance, how it defined “pluck,” were there memories of conveyor belts, stuffy boxes, long journey, a fall or pitch into a grocery cart. What did it feel when the box opened and light poured in. How much time between the light and the wet, dark, warmth of the human mouth, where it experienced teeth, tongue, saliva, swallowing…
With the third, we were to look for the umbilical cord…the stem which had once-upon-a-time connected the grape to the mother ship…the grape vine. Mine boldly stuck out from a mass of weathered wrinkles. Neither of the previous subjects revealed such a minute token. In an instant, the life of a raisin passed before my eyes. I savored this one with reverence, giving thanks for its sweetness.
Another observer in our group, upon opening the box, noticed a saying imprinted on the lid. All boxes were examined, all had sayings, all were different. Was this something new or had these tidbits of wisdom always been there? We didn’t know.
Nancy then guided us through a body scan, a type of meditation that started out with the toes on the left foot and ended up at the tops of our heads. Something about paying attention to what I would have described as the insignificance of a raisin and having that world turned upside down brought a segment of my conscious awareness to a new point of reference regarding my body. As she explained the procedure, I could have sworn my toes were “itching” to start and that every surface cell prickled with anticipation. Surprising then that when she began, “Focus on the toes of your left foot…” that my left-foot toes seemingly disappeared. I couldn’t feel them. It was as if they’d been asked to step center stage into the light and immediately contracted stage fright. That happened with every part of my body over the next half hour. No matter what Nancy referenced, that “piece” seemed to disappear, as if hiding while this and that spot on my ear, chin, neck, elbow pleaded for a scratch here…oh, yes, and another one there… I gave in to the distractions – it was impossible not to. Eventually, all itching assuaged, I fell into the rhythm and the flow of the body scan, noticing as I reached the mid-line of my body…the solar plexus and heart area…my body temperature seemed to increase and then, as I moved through my head and out the top, cooled down.
As I’m writing this and looking out the picture window, there’s snow falling this fine Spring day. I’ve heard there are no two snowflakes alike. I would venture there are no two raisins alike, even though all the grapes on the vine appear green or red or purple. For all their differences, all flakes fall to earth and manage to fit into a mound of snow quite nicely. And raisins bow to the heat of the sun or a dryer to develop distinct shapes and flavor that go unnoticed, yet fit quite nicely into whatever container they land. The human body, the mind, the spirit of who we are or don’t yet know ourselves to be also fits inside each structure. And the collective consciousness, the physical mass of humanity, its diverse nature and structure, well, it’s all contained on this one planet.
What an amazing piece of work, a snow flake (some are half-dollar sized now) the raisin, the human body. How often do I give these the attention each deserves? Perhaps snow and grapes have it figured out…how to blend, develop character, and fit in while retaining individual diversity. Perhaps we humans are also figuring out the same. And who’s to say that a few wrinkles don’t help?
