When Kids Get the Giggles

In my class in the Language of Attentiveness, I’ve got a core of interested, curious teens. Most of them are fascinated by techniques of how to relax, how to disconnect from outside events and how to listen to their bodies.

Some, however, can not refrain from the impulsive curiousity that prevents them from working with attention. They have urgent questions, the need to pummel the one beside them, fascination at watching everyone else, endless opportunities to escape the self-study that comprises our core work.

What to do with those who cannot self-pause, but who giggle, babble or even jump up to tickle another student who’s lying down to participate in guided imagery?

the pause

Well, there’s one school of thought. This I call the Doron Lavy school of thought. Doron is my esteemed T’ai Chi / Qi Cong teacher. No matter who is chatting, he is focused on the cutta, on the movements we are doing. Not even a blink of the eye. He is in the movement we are doing.

If someone asks a question after the cutta or in the break, he’ll answer. He’ll offer information given by a sensei, or Master teacher who teaches in Japan or another location. He is patient and thoughtful. The Doron Lavie method.

I’ve tried this. I don’t consider tossing out pupils who giggle or interrupt. I choose to remind the group of the task and of the instructions: whether to refrain from talking or to sit quietly. I offer the option of writing down whatever is on their mind if a question pops up and they need to express it.

I do not want negativity in the room. This is the Doron ambience that works so well in the T’ai Chi sessions, Tuesday nights on Kibbutz Nir Oz. (If you’re in the area, contact me!)

This school of thought is clearly best exemplified by Doron, himself, or with students who seriously want to study. In my lessons, it finds particular success amongst pupils possessing the self-discipline to honor another’s personal space, or who can delay a question about where I was born or what I like to do in my spare time.

Those who jump onto another’s mat or who simply must ask their question at that very second,  do not respond well to the Doron Lavie method. As a result, the group suffers.

The other school of thought is to stop all work and physically remove those who are disturbing their classmates. This past Monday, this method was implemented.  After offering 3 chances, all of which found the offenders promising to control themselves, but did not, they were sent out and instructed to return after 10 minutes.

guided imagery

We continued,  happily engaged in relaxation when, after 5 minutes, the door opened and the 3 re-entered. I looked at them and held out 5 fingers and whispered that there remained 5 more minutes to wait. They responded loudly that they wanted to come back in and how they wouldn’t bother us! All exuberant and mood-busting, and totally unaware that there actually was a pre-existing mood in the room..

To re-establish the quiet vibe, I re-signalled that they needed to leave and to wait 5 minutes. Believe it or not, the girls lying down on their mattresses were quite still, their eyes closed. Holding on to the positive mood of the body scan in progress, I insisted that the three leave, which eventually they did.

We continued, then shared what had been experienced during our relaxation. To deepen the relaxed state, I offered them the experience of  feeling the resonating Singing Bowl as placed on backs or bellies.

This was very cool.  The bowl was in place on N’s back when, lo and behold, the 3 girls noisily re-entered, demanding to be heard as they enthusiastically promised to be quiet.

This time I asked them if they wanted to join in the relaxation. They said they didn’t, they’d sit at the side, just sit. I, however, was not interested in further opportunities  to interfere with the calm feeling in the room.

There were clearly two sides: the girls who wanted a safe environment for getting into relaxation and the others who were making them nervous.

The bottom line was clear. This was no time for such dichotomy of behaviour. Only at the discussion stage would such a polarity be positive. We could then discuss our differences towards the work at hand. We could discuss intention and what happens as we begin an exercise. We could discuss differences in attitude.

But during relaxation, the atmosphere needs to be quiet, safe, offering every chance for securely entering the zone of meditation.

So, what to do with gigglers who aren’t sensitive to the needs of the group. Gigglers who don’t quietly dismiss themselves till they can rejoin the group quietly?

Any ideas?

Feel free to add your comments!

by Jill Badonsky

Spoiler alert – two years afterwards,  two of the girls approached me to indicate that they were interested in learning how to relax, how to get in touch with inner quiet.  This was a very welcome interaction and a chance to offer a permanent invitation, that mindfulness knows no deadlines, that the techniques are learnable at any time.

Session Number Two!

Pre-lesson notes

I’m so alive before the session.  Acute magnification of senses. I do walking meditation as I prepare.

Along comes the stream of questions

90 minutes! Such a long stretch of time. Should I plan more? Photocopy brain diagrams?

Will the pupils be utterly drained after having had a 2 hour English exam? Should I bring in incense? (no, fire code) food? (the raisin meditation) free-form artwork? (a little art therapy, maybe…)

I know the power of good basic Safat Hakeshev (Language of Attentiveness) core techniques, so I remain confident in my lesson plan and reconnect to my body in the present moment. 

Note: A good basic meditative body scan serves to ground any flying, loose energies. Plus, no problem, since all those  mattresses from last June’s workshop are still in the Relaxation room (at least as of last week). Pupils will be pleased.

Notes after the lesson:

Going early to prepare the room, I aired it out and arranged the sitting circle. But…lo and behold, no mattresses were in sight. Someone, sometime during the previous week, had reclaimed and removed them.  So, the meditation in prone position was unmattressed but rather conducted on the long puffy poufs in the room. A few kids built their own combinations of smaller poufs. All was fine.

When I went to the 8th Grade building to collect my students and bring them to our space, there, amongst them, was A, a student who had indicated that he truly didn’t want to be in this workshop. “Why are you here, A?” I asked.

“There’s nothing else,” he said. “There’s no other course.”

I was incredulous. “What about photography? Surely that would be an option.”

“They don’t really do photography there,” I was informed. “They learn how to do digital effects on images.” 

Sinking hearts all round – I wondered who made these kind of decisions.

We arrived at our room. Shoes off, phones off, backpacks parked, and on to a pouf in the sitting circle. I reminded them to maintain silence and get comfortable. That, clearly, wasn’t easy for them! Two decided to fight for what I had claimed as my place. With a burst of innovation, they rearranged the poufs to make room for everyone to sit comfortably.

I announced  the plan for the day: we would engage in a few forms of meditation – lying down, sitting and standing – with some t’ai chi. There’d be opportunities to speak or share their reactions and ask questions. Their assignment was to work on themselves and to show respect for others.

I invited them to set aside all that happened before or what might happen later. I offered them the wonderful opportunity to have this time to simply be present.

Noticing our Breathing

I reiterated how we can use our breathing as an anchor for being present in our bodies. By paying attention to our breathing, we can find something to anchor us in the present moment.

Two-minute breathing exercise. Sitting upright, we noticed our feet on the floor, our bodies on the pouf, and we straightened our spines. Our task was  to notice our breaths. I invited them to count 10 breaths by using their fingers. When they reached 10, to begin again.

Me: “First release all air until your bellies are empty. Then inhale, exhale: 1. Inhale, exhale:2. And to continue in a rhythm that is comfortable for you.”

(Mid-process, there was a surge of  voices coming from the lobby of the 9th grade building.)

After 2 minutes: Gong!

Me: “How was it? Did anyone lose count due to random thoughts? Had the outside noise interfered?”

No one indicated any difficulty.

Question from N: “I want to know how I’m supposed to listen to just one thing when something else bothers me. Like during my test. I had to listen to the voice on the MP3 reading the text, but the teacher was right beside me, talking loudly. I couldn’t hear. How am I supposed to focus?”

Me: “Good question. How can I focus on one sound when there are other sounds around. Hmm.”

Being mindful of sound

Me: “Let’s try an experiment. I’m going to ring the Tibetan Singing Bowl and invite you to raise your finger the moment you stop hearing the sound.

Even though there might be other sounds in the room or outside, we will listen to only the Singing Bowl. When you stop hearing it, raise one finger. Ready?”

Gong !

Tibetan Singing Bowl

It didn’t take long. Fingers went up.

J: “I’m not sure if I really heard it or if I just thought I heard it. Let’s try it again.”

M: “It was hard for me to really hear it because of the air conditioning unit on the wall above me.”

Me: “Okay. We’ll do it again. This time, I’ll move around the circle. Close your eyes and just listen. Ready?”

Gong!

This time, I slowly moved around the room as I made a continual circular sound with the mallet. Eventually I stopped and waited for their finger responses.

One boy didn’t raise his finger.

N: “Hey, J! Did you fall asleep?”

J: ““It’s okay, N! I’m awake!”

N: “One more time.”

We did it again and this time 2 students continued to hear the bowl, long after it stopped vibrating.

“Okay! Interesting. This is one way we can practice focusing on one specific sound.

Now we’re going to move to the next phase:  meditation while lying down. In a minute I’ll give a signal. You’ll take your poufs and arrange them in a circle on the floor, heads to the centre, feet to the wall. I’ll be in the middle. You’ll lie on your backs. Ready? On the gong!”

Gong

3. Body Scan Meditation*

*The body scan meditation provides a wonderful base to ground the body, relax and focus on the physical forms.

Body Scan – They settled down and I instructed them to simply acknowledge their bodies on the mattress.What was the sensation? How did it feel to do nothing but lie down with the mattress supporting them?

We began our scan noticing our heels and feet and part by part, we travelled up along the body. I kept to a steady, easy-going rhythm. I knew that these kids were not the adults I’d been guiding through body scans, and the speed would have to be adjusted. I planned to observe very carefully as I led them. Would they want to linger or hurry on? Would they fidget and want to speak?

I walked between them, conscious of my feet on the ground, the sound of my voice while watching them. I kept an eye on my watch to check the timing.

Some kids were adjusting their bodies, but they were with me. The scan took about 15 minutes. I invited them to observe if there was any part of their body that hurt, and if so, to place hands there.  Some changed their hand position.

After a few minutes, I invited them  to place their palms on their bellies, and observe the rising and fall along with the intake and exhalation of air.

Hands at their sides again, I asked them to notice if there was any change in body sensation: more relaxed, cold, warm. To notice.

from wikiHow

We began our transition towards sitting up.

“In a few minutes I’ll invite you to slowly roll onto your sides.”

Gong! On the signal they did so.  I was silent.

“Our next phase will be to sit up and by the end of 4 counts, be sitting.

Ready? 1   –      2-          3 –        4-     (are you almost sitting?)     5!”

Movement while Sitting

We began our session by noticing our feet on the floor.   Our bodies on the pouf. We made one small adjustment as if a magnet was pulling us up towards the ceiling, our shoulders relaxed and we exhaled. Our hands were in our laps or on our knees. And we counted our breaths.

Then we did some movements,  noticing our breaths while we did.

We started off easily.

Upper body twist: two hands planted at our sides, we twisted gently looking over our shoulders, focusing on what we saw and then circled round to the other side.

Facing forward: Limb stretches. We picked up the rhythm.

Raised a leg, put it down. Other leg, put it down.

We raised one arm, put it down. The other arm, put it down.

We raised a leg, same side arm, put them down. Other side: leg and arm, down.

Then we did opposing limbs: Right leg up, left arm up. Down.  Left leg up, right arm up. Down!

We did the same series, only using 45 degree angles.

Then we raised both arms, put them down. Both legs, put them down. Then both arms and both legs!  We held it. Down.

Then both arms out at an angle + both legs out at an angle. Held it! Down!

Cooling down. We took large breaths, circling our arms up above our heads and then down with the exhale.

Then we shook out our hands, arms.  Shook out our legs. And sat very still.

How was it? Had they noticed their breaths?

What did they feel in their bodies? Were they warm or cold?

N: I feel relaxed

M: (nodded)

Break before our Standing Session. 

M fished out her water bottle from her backpack. She couldn’t open the cap. “It’s impossible,” she said.

Me: “You’re too relaxed” and I opened it for her (It helps to add a little faith to any task that seems daunting).

Back again.

Standing Meditation using movement

I invited them to stand in a circle and re-connect to the present moment.

I guided them through a search to find their balance. Then we began a T’ai Chi warm-up through the parts of the body. By the time we’d warmed up, they were tired.

I decided to bring them the good news that we’d be doing something new, that allowed them to sit or lie down, however they felt most comfortable.

Metta meditation

I introduced the Metta meditation.*

*Metta (lovingkindness in Pali) is a meditation based on the repetition of phrases such as “May I be safe, be happy, be healthy, live with ease” (as suggested by Sharon Salzberg). The repetition is done in a rhythm that feels right, with spacing that feels appropriate. These phrases and their repetition provide an anchor of our being in the present moment while opening our hearts.

They deserved attention. They’d worked hard that day. Here was a chance to offer themselves compassion, kindness, love and attention.

I led them through 3 phases: To offer lovingkindess to themselves, to someone who inspired them and to someone who might be going through a hard time.**

**Since I don’t know their personal histories, I wasn’t sure that this was a good idea, but I thought that with open hearts feeling kindness towards someone else might be important.

At the end, I asked them to return their thoughts to themselves, offering lovingkindness and ending with a self-hug. “There’s no one like me!”

As I hugged myself, I guided them: At the end of the meditation, I suggested that maybe through the coming days, they might open their hearts and really offer attention to someone who might speak to them, or to notice when they themselves needed some love.

This lesson took place just before Yom Kippur. As this is the time in the Jewish calendar when one asks for forgiveness for something done intentionally or inadvertently, I thought that this meditation might be helpful. I was hoping this wonderful tool might be useful to help them through what might lie ahead.

Transition towards our lesson’s end. Slowly rolling onto their sides, we moved to sitting position, and then to standing. I invited them to take a place around the table and in their notebooks, simply record something that they’d noticed or experienced during the lesson. They could write or draw.

Journals

They each took their journal. All but A.

A: “I don’t write.”

Me: “Even your name?”

A: “Nope!”

A was the one who hadn’t wanted to be there, but was. Since the atmosphere of the room is an element that teaches just as much as any words on my part, there was benefit in letting him be.  I was hoping that whatever he got out of these sessions would be visceral, tactile.

N  drew a picture.

Me: “Would anyone like to share?”

N: “You don’t want to see this.”

Me: “Sure I do!”

He showed me a face with a huge circular orifice.

A: “Angry birds? You drew angry birds?”

Me: “A, please…”

N: “No. It’s not Angry Birds. It’s me. I wanted to kind of dissolve, flow. …” 

Me: “Wow! And what can you tell me about this?” (I looked at the other side of the page and saw a huge pipe and a container of something).

N: “This is me trying to soak up the yoga.”

I was impressed. I got his permission to write down what he said so that I could reference his words as we continued. 

I thanked them very much for coming and wished them all a good week.

They put on their shoes and left. I opened their journals. M said that N was a good artist! And that she really liked the relaxation session, lying down.

J said that he had experienced relaxation and that it felt so good.

How does a teacher know if the lesson was good? Feedback helps. Their attitude helps. With a quick self-inventory, I, too, felt good. As Simi says, it’s the presence of the instructor that contributes most to the effectiveness of the lesson.

Always good advice. No matter when or where.

Teaching Safat Hakeshev, the Language of Attentiveness, offers a chance for study at so many levels. And every lesson touches another node of enquiry. 

Till next time.

June Workshop: Language of Attentiveness

Meeting number 4 of 8th grade Workshop

What happens when five students who really want to do meditation come to a workshop offering them meditation? It works! The teacher offers and invites, the students accept and try and learning occurs.

Thus was my session this past Thursday.

sitting circle (mindful kids)

We began our session siting on the comfortable bean bag chairs in a circle. Getting comfortable, we simply began to informally notice our breathing. Not talking just for the sake of talking but doing active listening, to really be there when someone says something.

“Isn’t it good to know that you’re being listened to?”

We did a mindful count of 10 breaths. I invited them to close their eyes, to count in their own rhythm, to use our technique of one finger to count each total breath.

“How was it?”

“Relaxing”, several said.

The next step was to notice our breathing for 3 minutes, using the singing bowl as an aid to keep us focused.

Tibetan Singing Bowl

I gave them the signal and let the singing bowl vibrate, I offered scaffolding, reminders to let the air out, and in.  At the end of each minute, I rang the bowl, and guided:”Notice yourself as you breathe”

or as Simi Levi-Yeshuvi says: “What happens between breaths?”

And another ring of the singing bowl.

At the end of 3 minutes, I gave them the signal to slowly come back, to open their eyes. We stretched.

I asked how it was. Some said it was good. One said it seemed so long. One said she nearly fell asleep. Yes, falling asleep – well known side effect. Sometimes given a chance the body dozes off. This is interesting and we notice it.

Perhaps next week we’ll try four minutes.

The next phase was to actively energize the body, through t’ai chi warm-ups and some chi cong and then we’d be working on mandalas.

Each mindfully found a spot on the floor, enough space between them, standing up facing me and I led them through warm-ups and then 5 of the 8 pieces of Brocade (a wonderful Chi Cong cutta) and we started to notice the yin and yang of the body positions.

Eight Pieces

We cooled down.

I directed them to take the mountain pose, standing straight and balanced and asked them to notice their bodies. If they felt good, or if something hurt them. A few said that their bodies were sore and I invited them to give themselves a small massage. When two commented that it was their backs, I suggested group massage. We stood in a circular chain and worked on the backs of the one in front.

Sighs of happiness were heard. One student complained of a sore upper arm, so with the permission of the one I was massaging and of the other student, I worked on the sore arm. I told the students to let their fingers feel the reaction of the other’s body. Usually the body gives signs if it’s responding well – to notice. What do you mean, ‘feel the other’? asked one girl. Let your fingers pick up the information. And suddenly the one with the sore arm, said “Yo! it doesn’t hurt anymore”.

“You cured him!” said one girl.

“It’s not magic, it’s letting the fingers listen,” I commented.

With that, I invited them to take a seat around the table and I brought over mandalas, pastels, coloured pens and markers.

Mystical Mandala Colouring book

Each student picked a mandala. I invited them to colour in silence for a minute. As they chose colours and worked on their designs,  I joined in (how wonderful was that!). After one minute had passed, I asked them how it was. ‘Relaxing’ they said, and we continued. After another few minutes, I stopped them. “Stop!” I said (no warning). Then, “How did it feel to be stopped?”

“Annoying.”  “Frustrating.”

“Interesting,” I said. “Let’s continue.” Then after a tiny while: “How does it feel to be allowed to continue?”

“Good.”  “Relaxing.”

“Where do you feel it in your body?”

“My heart.”

“My head.”

We continued.

I warned them that in a few minutes, we’d have to stop and it’d be time to get ready to leave.

“Can we continue?” asked one girl.

“Yes, next week. But notice that this moment will never come back. Next week, we’ll have different circumstances. You’ll feel differently and things will change. We’ll notice next week!”

She nodded, pleased with a promise of more time next week.

The signal was given. We admired each of the mandalas as I collected them. We put things away, put on our shoes and said goodbye till next week.

Next week we’ll wrap up what’s been experienced and see what’s made an impression.

You’re welcome to stay tuned!

Of course, all comments, questions, suggestions are invited. Our kids are our future.

May Workshop – 3rd Meeting “Language of Attentiveness”

May 27^th Meeting

 

by aritist geralt, pixabay

This image, by geralt on pixabay, is descriptive of this 3^rd meeting of “Safat haKeshev” with my 8^th grade group.

As usual, I was both nervous and excited about meeting the kids. Who would come? How would they respond to the techniques of mindfulness? Would they learn something? Anything?

I truly didn’t know what to expect since there’d been signs that the novelty factor was no longer enough to hook the interest of one of the boys. And not everyone was enamoured of the idea of practicing mindfulness

Breathing to Chinese flute

I worked my pre-meeting rituals – arranging the space, adjusting the temperature, setting out my props. Shoes off, I turned on my favourite Chinese bamboo flute music as a delicate mind enhancer as I practiced a  breathing meditation.

Relaxation is the key to be able to be alert to what’s going on within and around me.

.

The children entered, took their spaces. Two boys wanted to hug cushions. I took note, acknowledged how good it feels to hug something, but asked them to leave them on the floor so others could sit on them.

Note to self: Mindful Cushion Hugging – could easily be incorporated into the session. 

The kids had no comments or questions, so I addressed a question from the previous week. What was that singing bowl of mine? Where can you get one?

We had a singing bowl experiment – I asked them to listen to the kinds of sounds and then I invited a few to open the palm of their hand, hold the bowl and feel the vibrations when the bowl was struck.

“What is ‘vibrations’?” asked one girl.  I explained and let her feel them.

Ah. the simple joy of noticing vibrations. Isn’t life wonderful? (I think to myself)

Next, we carried on to noticing our breathing.

It’s true, I said, we all breathe. We don’t need to learn how, but sometimes it’s easier to notice it if we make a little change.

Straws!

I pulled out the straws (thank you Rina Tal for the idea). We examined them and then used them to breathe – inhaling through our nose, exhaling through the straw.

We then tried to sync the timing – timing the inhalation and then noticing the exhalation.  No dizziness? I asked. No, they responded.

Straws aside – there were no comments.

Unsually quiet, I thought. Something’s up…

We headed ‘mindfully’ over to the floorspace to do t’ai chi warm-up.

For the first time in the session, there was chat going on. Boys were looking at girls – aha! Grade 8-ness had shown up, making it very difficult to simply notice one’s own body while doing the warm-ups. (Note to self: make a comment about that next week – what happens when others chat, or look at me. Can I gather my concentration and continue?)

I tried to pull them in. I reminded them out work is to notice our ‘own’ bodies.

I reminded them that there was no need to speak.

At the end of the familiar warm-up, I added the ‘Tree’. I had their attention. Something new, something challenging.

Vector – Woman practicing yoga, tree pose

And then cool down.

My plan was to stretch the Chi Cong movements – to direct their attention to how they moved via the mention of yin/yang.

This worked for a few of the movements, but the former chatty situation re-surfaced.

I suggested that they turn their backs to the center – facing the wall and that I’d walk around to show them each pose. This idea was a relief to the girls (not having to be watched), but it was hard for them to simply wait till I came around the circle to illustrate the pose.

(Note to self: teach self-regulation – have them mindfully wait till I come round)

or I could also just go an easier way: Have them line up along the length of the room and face me.

We cooled down. They were tired and asked for the mats – and so with 7 minutes left in our session, we shifted to attention while lying down.

Noticing their body on the mat, part by part, and then their breathing. Listening to the music to help them focus. Was the feeling pleasant? (they seemed very pleased).

I asked them to consider another pleasant situation they’d felt that day. When it was, where. Were there people around, were there smells, or colours. To let themselves re-enter that experience.

To notice their breathing.

Quietly, I told them I’d soon be giving them the signal to re-surface. One girl objected – she wanted to stay.

Others were fine.

I wondered if there was a party going to happen that night. After all, one curly haired child had straightened her hair (a sign of an upcoming social gathering)

The signal was given. For the first time, I told them that the next week we’d be examining ways to de-stress. Only those who wanted to come were invited.  (“Could T come?” asked Y. No, I said. I’m speaking only of those who originally signed up).

And they left.

………………….

In doing my reflection after the lesson, I thought of the many elements that had appeared during the session. The restlessness of one boy. The desire to chat.

There had been a little magic in that they spent most of their time following the instructions and showing interest. But that little bit of unwanted break from concentration reminded me that there is no magic in Mindfulness practice. It takes work!

The teacher must learn along with the student.

Till next time.

May – Workshop month

May 21: May workshop Meeting 2

Theme: Self-check & tuning in to others

How to separate school regular ‘stuff’ from a small slice of time devoted to ‘doing nothing’ except monitoring breath, pulse, body sensations and maybe thought?  How to create a switch to turn off ‘automatic’ me and turn on a more mindful me?

We are working on that. We use Safat haKeshev (The Language of Attentiveness) and it’s my privilege to conduct small sessions with 12 students in the 8^th grade in my school, Nofei Habsor in the Western Negev.

This past Thursday, at one p.m., we began in a circle, sitting on comfortable puffy cushions. This week we looked at our immediate mood as we began the session, linking it via a thin blue ribbon which outlined our circle of kids. I took the ribbon, said I felt tense and passed it to Y, who felt good, repeated that I’d felt tense and passed the ribbon to M. M felt okay and she repeated Y’s ‘good’ and my ‘tense’, and on we proceeded to B who felt bored but didn’t know what anyone else had said. We repeated what we’d said, and he still didn’t get it. A third time – and he got it all very quickly. (Interesting how attention gets turned on) and round we went.

I asked if there’d been one feeling, an average feeling. The kids noticed that there hadn’t been. Lots of individual feelings.  We placed our bit of the ribbon on the floor, touched it with our hands and then sat back to look.  That was the thread that joined us in the room.

Then we thought about our physical bodies. How about our pulses? How many did we think we had per minute? We counted out 20 seconds. How many had we counted? Pupils tossed out their numbers and again we noticed that we all had a different count.

We headed for mats, stretched out on our backs and scanned our bodies. Enjoying just lying down. We checked our bodies. Did we feel the mat supporting us?  Was it comfortable? Our heels, our calves, our backs, our heads. We noticed the parts that touched the mat. We stretched out and then relaxed.

Breathing through our bellies, we lay hands on our bellies, trying to see if our breath could move our hands. Then we rubbed hands and placed them on our hearts. Could out breath move our hands now? Back to our bellies and up and down, then arms at our sides. Delicious rest. No need to do anything.

We shifted to sitting attention and stretched out – from side to side, to the ceiling, to the walls, to the floor. And we did deep breathing through the candle breath technique – in through the nose circling arms up to meet over our heads, and out through our mouth, folded hands lowering until opposite our bellies. And again. I circled to watch them.

How was our pulse? We checked again. We went round the circle. Again, everyone had a different count from before and no one in the circle matched numbers.

We stood (slowly along with 4 claps)

Pushing aside the mats, we stood firmly on the floor, feet shoulder width apart and we again did the T’ai Chi warm-up gently rotating our joints and practicing balance.

We began to learn the 8 Pieces of Brocade – a wonderful Chi Cong cutta. This particular set of movements is a marvelous brain and body balancer – using the body and breath to work the yin and yang of movement. I told them that these movements act as an energy generator – to fill up their batteries.

from Chi Cong’s 8 Pieces of Brocade

We began by breathing, and doing the Chi Cong postures starting at ‘neutral’ and extending the arms, one up slightly bent, one down slightly bent and coming back to neutral. We repeated 3 or 4 times and then went on to a few other postures.

Note: This work is invaluable and interests the kids. I believe that I will slow down the process. We need to do less but with more attention. It isn’t easy to grasp a new movement when we transition  quickly from pose to pose.

I’ve also observed how students of various learning styles grasp various forms of meditation. The study is fascinating. Could work in this field remediate those with learning disabilities? I’m sure that it can.

We shook out our bodies. and as we ended the session in a seated position, we spoke about what we had learned that day. Some commented that I was relaxed! (That was unexpected, so I asked again what they had learned about themselves). Most commented on their pulses, their breathing.

I invited them to share observations with me during the week, in person or privately on What’s App.

And we silently left the room.

Tibetan Singing Bowl

May 14!

Class Relax brings “The Language of Attentiveness” to Nofei Habsor High School.

10 eighth grade students opened the door to the ‘Relaxation Room’ in the Grade 8 Building, took off their shoes and found a spot in our gathering circle.

I welcomed them along with music (the favourite Chinese Bamboo flute). I invite you to listen to it as you read this blog entry.

It is most important that the first impression of our workshop shows that the coming space and time will be separate from their usual school experience. I outlined our basic guidelines: that there would be no signs of violence (verbal or physical), that each one would maintain respect for themselves and others  with no intrusion of limbs, opinions, or stares.

They each drew an outline of their hand and offered one word about what they expected to get from our sessions. In our circle I asked them what they thought we’d learn in the “Language of Attentiveness”.  Their responses included focus, concentration, being more calm.

What do we expect?
May 14, 2015

Then one boy said: “Let’s do it!” and we got into things. We took mats, arranged them in a circle and s0 we began.

The session consisted of a few activities, from lying down and noticing our bodies on the mat, to noticing our breath in the rising and falling of our bellies.

We counted breaths using the five fingers of each hand to aid our focus.

We stretched our bodies, made our bodies small – we explored our boundaries on the mat.

Then we transitioned to a sitting position – dividing our movements with the help of five sounds of the tibetan singing bowl.

I asked for comments and received: “That felt good!”

Again we did some stretches and practiced listening to surrounding sounds. (We rubbed our hands, covered our eyes, looked into the darkness and paid attention to the sounds in the room, outside of the room and then to the sounds of our own bodies)

Standing up, noticing how we go from sitting to standing, to the rhythm of a hand claps, we then explored balance – sideways, or front to back. Once steady, we began a warm-up, rotating each of our joints. We practiced balancing our weight (t’ai chi warm-ups are the best – thank you, Doron Lavie for years of doing this fine warm-up).

We cooled down and transitioned once more to sitting and noticing our breathing. Was it different now after exercise?

Responses: yes!

We returned to lying down on the mat – in whichever position was most comfortable. Everyone chose to lie down on their stomachs. How they loved it!

I invited them to notice if their bodies felt different: their backs perhaps (warmer or cooler – heavier or lighter), their arms, their hands. Was there a change in their legs or their entire bodies, perhaps?

Responses: I feel lighter.  I feel comfortable.

I then led them through a short guided imagery. I invited them to remember coming to school that morning. They came through the gate. Who was the first person they saw. Were they happy to see them or not so happy? What did they say? What did someone say to them.

Did they remember they’d forgotten something. Did they forget that they remembered?

And in this room, had they done something they liked? Or something they never wanted to do again? Was there something they’d like to do more? Had they noticed anything new about their bodies?

And then at rest, simply listening to the music,  I told them that soon, I’d be going around the room, gently touching each one on the back and that was their sign to get up slowly. If they chose, they could add a few words to our Hand collage. They were to put on their shoes, in silence, and one by one leave the room

And they did. One girl wrote that the session was ‘Amazing’. And another girl helped me gather up the mats and put them away.

Reflection: As the music kept playing, I gathered the materials and considered my lesson plan compared to my actual lesson. It was quite accurate, really. I’d overplanned. 45 minutes is not very long when each sentence is new and each student must be examined as carefully as possible.  Who were these students? Had they felt noticed, cared for? Had they received something from the session?

I liked the use of humour. I liked the kids’ participation and acceptance of what we were doing.

I’m interested to see how they explore themselves next week as we look at our relationship with others. What happens when personal space meets the space of another.

May 6

A name filled with humour and smiles.

 This month we’re beginning a ‘Safat HaKeshev’ (Language of Attentiveness) workshop at Nofei Habsor for a small group of 8th graders. The group includes pupils who have asked to be included in the 5 session workshop.

Pre-Workshop Preparation

I went to visit Tel Hai School in South Tel Aviv to observe and participate in a session given by Maya Shalev who has been instructing pupils for many years.

The lesson began with a personal greeting from Maya as, one by one, each pupil removed their shoes, entered the room and found their personal mat on the floor. As they waited, they lied down, sensing their bodies on the mat.

The pupils were taken through body attentiveness exercises, breathing exercises and transitions from lying down to sitting to standing, marked by the gong of a Tibetan Singing Bowl. Guided imagery allowed the imagination to get a work-out. And all was done with marking, noting the states of the body and mind. When sharing experiences at the end of the session, it was clear that pupils had thoroughly enjoyed the sessions and Maya guided them a little deeper to express what exactly had felt ‘good’ or unpleasant. The language of attention is a system of non-judgement but of registering what happens inside of us.

In this way, we can learn how to self-regulate, how to breathe before automatically reacting, before instantly bursting out, and how to notice when we are imagining reasons for stress when they aren’t really there!

Tibetan Singing Bowl

My own Class will meet on Thursdays, mid-day. This is a time when pupils are tired, are thinking about lunch and the end of the day.

We will learn about ourselves as we are, our expectations of what we hope to learn, and our automatic responses to daily life. What makes us feel pleasant, what triggers anxiety. All these matters will come up for observation.

We will look a bit at our brain, at our perception of our selves. We will draw a little, dance a little, breathe a lot.

Now, I’m preparing the Introductory lesson – a taste of what’s to come and an experience to let each pupil consider the rich inner world that often goes undetected.

Have a good week!