Restraint is a sign of spiritual growth
One of the most valuable spiritual disciplines I practice (some days) is restraint. Restraint allows me to choose to practice meditation while sitting surrounded by laundry that needs folding and calls that need returning. Restraint enables me to not blurt out wrong information even though I am convinced I know the truth. Restraint helps me find curiosity instead of judgment. Restraint allows me to pause to prepare and ask myself: do you really want that box of cookies, or do you need a hug? Restraint gives me permission to go slow in spite of the fact that the world is telling me to speed up. Restraint builds my spiritual muscles: for curiosity, humility, meditation, and even cardio health. Sometimes the only way to restrain myself is to get up from my desk and take a walk. Restraint allows me to find kind words to replace the quick, sarcastic retort that comes so easily to mind when feeling hurt or angry. I am so grateful for the capacity to choose restraint - when I remember to do so.
As I write this, I am looking out my window as a team cuts down my neighbor's tree. Their work is done, but they are not leaving. One of the guys is sitting on the flatbed of the truck meditating - legs crossed, hands cupped and open - ready to receive. I wonder why he feels the need to meditate at this particular moment. Did he and his wife have a huge fight this morning? Is he distracted, worried and anxious about his kids' school safety? Is he sitting in gratitude that the tree fell just right and caused no harm to life or property? Is he in search of peace or lovingkindness? I do not know. The rest of his team are taking a smoke break and scrolling through their phones. But here he sits. I feel his solitude. I can sense his focus. After ten minutes or so, I watch him stretch his legs, shake his arms and rise up. He nods at his friends and points toward their vehicles - it is time to go on to the next job. I do not know if meditation is a form of restraint for him; maybe for him, showing up for his shift at work required restraint. But I think we all know, don't we? We know what restraint would require for us. I wonder what restraint would require of you.
Restraint may take many forms but it does require one hard thing: NOT doing, NOT indulging the feelings, NOT thinking the thoughts that are so habitual. I meditated yesterday when I would have preferred to move and do. I took a walk last week when what I really wanted to do was type out a snappy and rude email reply. I loaded up my plate for lunch on Monday with veggies and protein instead of eating teddy grahams in a bowl of milk. Some days I fold my laundry, type out a sappy email reply and have cereal for lunch. These are not terrible things to avoid (except the email - avoid that), but they are opportunities for me to be more mindful. Restraint is a beautiful discipline, not a punishment. We won't always choose to practice it - but when we do, it's a gift.
