My friend Kelly says, “Oh, just rangbop it!” when my mind gets too muddled and I furrow my brow without even realizing it. She is speaking Buddhist but I catch her drift. What she means is that if I imagine everything that I’m holding in and creating nervous energy around were held together tightly, like a bale of straw tied with twine, then I should cut the twine and let everything gently fall away.
I remember this teaching most often when I am outdoors. The spaciousness of a newly leafed-out forest in springtime invites a sort of rangbop mentality that I consider healthy. When it comes to my spiritual practice, I have a hard time replicating this sitting on the meditation cushion but an easier time tapping into it when I’m surrounded by chaos. If I go to BigCity, NC I can handle a crowd by distancing myself mentally from it while simultaneously letting all the sights, sounds, and smells seep into my perception. It’s a way of keeping a finger on the pulse of my immediate surroundings without getting swept through the bloodstream of it all.
The catch is applying the mentality with gentleness in my most habitual moments. Irrational fear or anxiety? Rangbop it. Eating when I’m not hungry? Rangbop it. Overwhelming voices of doubt that question my writing? Rangbop it. Fretting over time spent or not spent on the meditation cushion? Rangbop it. Talking myself out of exercise? Rangbop it. Stressing out about money? Rangbop it.
Not sure what to write about? Rangbop it.