The spatial pressure of mental exertion

I’ve always been fascinated with neighbours’ front gardens and how they’ve chosen to landscape their yard. Some areas are sparse with grass, a driveway and paving; others have pockets of strategically chosen plants to architecturally balance the design of the home’s exterior; many are highly intricate layering’s of thrillers, fillers and spillers; and a few are simply a dog’s breakfast of whatever managed to survive novice gardening attempts over the years. In a well-cared-for garden, plants suitable to the environment thrive and provide a bountiful visual display that would allure the most curious bee to the scent of an unsuspecting flower. However, if this delicate balance is upset by the most horrendous gale-force storm, toxic soil contamination, or swarm of diseased bugs, this external infection may become absorbed into the core of the plant’s root’s, causing fundamental change to the structure of the plant’s being.

If one was to apply this concept to the human body and brain, the mind’s fertile ground also contains the intelligence to merge the body’s internal contents with the external elements that infiltrate into the body through the five senses of sight, sound, smell, touch, taste. In the mind particularly, productive thoughts inspire new ideas, joy, curiosity, intelligence, and imagination, expanding the reach of a single thought to convey an optimistic outlook for the inhabitant. However, if a person has experienced trauma of any kind in the past, the fertile ground of a brain may not contain the correct balance of nutrients for healthy sustenance, and is particularly sensitive to unsettling, external forces.

While meditating on a particularly stressful issue recently, I recognised a discrepancy between a feeling in my body and a pressure in my mind. With the guidance of a councillor, I discussed the sensation and explored how this force with no words came about. It was as if this blockage had occurred centrally in the brain, and unable to escape in any direction, had built up density and almost completely separated my mind from every element in my body. The ‘mindfulness’ cure did not suit the symptoms, as the sustained pressure that lingered was a combination of wilful and deliberate forced beliefs from others, my present beliefs, mindset and self-awareness, and equal support for both during this transitional space between the two extremes. This triangulation generated an incessant noise of alarms at every sharp turn of perspective, adding to the already frustrating heaviness of the intense mental weight. Due to the brain’s location and inability to interact with any useful energy chakra in the body to assist with the dissipation of pressure, I worked with moving the tension downwards into my body, and away from the spatial confines of my mind. I realised that this feeling in my head acted as a reminder to remove myself from a desired outcome and practice acceptance of all three modes. Existence within this transitional state is very difficult to do, however as intentional movement occurred (and continues to circulate,) the new default favours my chosen beliefs, making for a smoother connection and a persuasive outcome.

The spatial arrangement of mind maps in the brain are a fascinating topic, and I imagine these clusters of intricately spun webs to move and shift like water in the ocean. The sheer vastness and possibility of movement is endless; nevertheless, it must still be contained within a body of mass, or risk separation as a single droplet of water and disappear completely into the ground. In the mind, a single thought is supported by the complex hold of its surrounding web, suggesting that a positive chain-reaction can also occur when re-wired properly. If, however, a positive thought is pressured to cease and collapse under the weight of surrounding negative thoughts, movement can cause a new spark to ignite possibilities, dissipate pressure, and shift the location of this negative belief into a more suitable section of the mind - such as a dusty collection of old and outdated beliefs, never to be seen again.

I recall a favourite meditation I was taught years ago to expand my library of thoughts and the emotions that surround them. To do this, one must drop down into their ‘internal library’ and draw a book from one’s bookshelf of knowledge. After examining it, you imagine opening the book and absorbing the knowledge you need without necessarily understanding the exact specifications on an empty page. Then, once ‘full’ of new knowledge, place it on a shelf in an area you would like to expand upon. I love this simple but effective visualisation technique, as similar to gardening, often plants selected for the soil of the garden may need a little moving around and re-positioning to optimise the growth of other nearby plants. If this concept is applied to thoughts in a pressured space within the mind, the idea of transforming area’s through weeding, removing, or repositioning, can assist with generating much needed change.

By recognising mental pressure as limiting words and beliefs of others projected onto the fertile ground of my thinking space, it has become easier to normalise this type of suffering. I was not responsible for those extremely negative and violent thoughts, yet I was responsible for digging up the weeds and re-designing a better landscape. Similar to weeds in a garden, the key to any good gardening practice is quiet silence and intentional focus on the issue at hand. This sensation helps neutralise the familiar repetitive patterns of limiting thoughts by shifting the movement flow from the brain into the hands of the body. All that’s left is to shake off traces of leftover dirt…