Some time ago I was at an Aldi near the Central Station in Leiden. I almost never go to the Aldi, but for whatever reason I was there.
It’s a small store, there are no windows, bright white lights, the produce is surprisingly fresh and sometimes you can find Trader Joe’s products.
I was inside the store, nothing special, then suddenly there was the experience of being everything. If I try to describe it probably the closest I can come is a kind of awareness floating: the Aldi, Iguazu Falls, it’s all good. There was no-body to reference back to or to “ground me”. No magic, nothing shocking, I just dropped into a state where “there” “was” everything.
As usual, it took some time to integrate the experience. And as the months went by (and the years?) one day I found myself talking to a very old sympathique Dutch man in Katwijk, he was selling tiny handmade poetry booklets on a street market. At the time I was also writing poetry, I had accidentally started writing poetry to try to make sense of who or what I was, a habit that grew stronger and more fun after my son’s birth.
We had a long conversation, he had been practicing Zen for many years, it was a quite pleasant and unexpected encounter. At some point he paused and told me: you know, Buddhism is a religion. He told me that to indicate his posture, but also to find out where I stand in the whole philosophy – religion situationship. To my surprise, I very easily agreed with him.
I think I always saw Buddhism mostly as religion in Asia and a philosophy in the West. Probably due to an amalgamation of ideas, thoughts, assumptions and all sorts of mental objects supporting the idea of philosophy being superior, above or further ahead.
But after the Aldi experience + a lot of time, now there is no doubt in me that what happened in the Aldi is what happens when we die.
This is not what I think. Due to the embodied experience, I now believe that.
After years of meditation practice, Buddhism changed my understanding of death and more significantly, what happens after we die, and for me at least, that is what religions do, provide a map, idea or “certainty” about the afterlife.
Maybe in some years that experience will be explained by synapses and chemicals in our brains, or I’ll have a new experience that’ll override my experiences of unbound awareness.
More likely, that narrative or need to interpret experiences will dissolve. But for now, I feel this is what happens when we die, and I sort of live accordingly.
The past several years have been all sorts of intense.
I moved to the Netherlands ten years ago, and my partner (The Dutch) and I had a child five years ago. We live in Leiden and this place has now truly become our home. Since the birth of my son both of my parents have passed away, my dad two years ago and my mom last summer. I formed some precious friendships and others that exist more in the rhythm of my son’s playdates. I took a break from work, and now that our child goes to school, I am slowly finding my way back.
I was pregnant during the hardest coronavirus lockdowns yet I felt fine, safe, collected. My meditation practice had been flourishing before I became pregnant, and it continued to grow during the months preceding my son’s birth. I was leading a daily Social Meditation Zoom practice with local folks, and it was truly beautiful.
After my son’s birth I felt so good, it was like a warm wind carried me everywhere.
With the help of Martine, a dharma friend and guide, I tried to bridge my formal meditation practice with everyday activity. Beyond the famous washing the dishes or doing the laundry mindfully image, I tried to chop wood and carry water with an infant. I had some previous experiences to guide me, or remind me what a state of just being, or just doing felt like.
For a while it was relatively easy to ignore narratives, at least the known ones, and to come back to the breath, or the tiny child, or the warm sun.
But, in my mind at least, the lack of formal practice together with the complexities of life, including those of a foreign mother navigating child-rearing in a different country, started to create a different set of conditions.
As I return to formal practice, I want to write about what being a householder practitioner was and is like for me. There are not many accounts in the Buddhist scriptures about what a householder path looks like. And for some reason, that path has always engaged my imagination.
I find this an important conversation, not only for Buddhist or practitioners within (or without) a tradition, but also for people engaged in other disciplines that require the right intention, gentle discipline and space-time. I think for example, of Ashtanga Yoga, which I practiced in Belgium before I moved to The Netherlands. Maybe, this is something we can figure out this century.
The latest turning of the wheel is also driven by householders.
My name is Karla, I am currently living in The Netherlands.
My relationship with meditation started at a young age thanks to my upbringing. I became more seriously interested in meditation and mindfulness during my early university years. From 2004 to 2006 I was living in Seattle and it was there that I attended several Buddhist communities and Sanghas, and learned various forms of meditation from different Buddhist traditions, including Korean, Tibetan, and Japanese. Additionally, in 2005 I followed a Mindfulness-based program at the University of Washington.
After university I became a school teacher in the international American School system, and I continued to study and practice following the Mindful Schools courses, which focused on incorporating Mindfulness practices to foster social, emotional and academic development in elementary, middle and high schools (K-12). In 2012 I decided to follow a research master program that would combine my two passions: education and mindfulness, so I enrolled in a research masters, MSc. in Education (psychology) at the Vrije Universiteit Brussel with a one-year internship at Leiden University. During my studies I developed mindfulness-based interventions specifically designed for school-teachers, and conducted qualitative and quantitative research with Belgian and Dutch student-teachers.
In 2016 I moved to Leiden and worked for several years at Leiden University, first as researcher and later as Lecturer. My latest research there focused on peace processes, identity and our environmental sense of self, specifically the ways in which these topics intercept and affect policy, like for example in the development of the Rights of Nature. After the birth of my son, I returned to work at the American School of The Hague where you can currently find me.
Throughout the years I have maintained a meditation practice, and in the last several years I have been under the guidance of Martine Batchelor on a more secular practice with greater focus on the dismantling of unnecessary habits, and the cultivation of creativity, wisdom and joy in daily life. I have also gained greater insight into my relationship with the environment and natural world.
We are social beings, going through social, technological, and environmental upheaval, and these practices have been tested throughout time, and provide us with a less self-centered and more friendly understanding of ourselves and the world, eventually translating into more peace, and wisdom. You are okay.
In addition, I have also followed Buddhist Geeks‘ social meditation program, which is a dynamic form of interpersonal practice, and I remain an active member of the Buddhist Geeks community where I lead a weekly practice. I now advise educational institutions and provide mindfulness courses in schools, to both students and teachers.
My approach is always informed by science and direct-experience. Besides the usual benefits you’ve heard mindfulness can offer, like reduced stress, rumination, reactivity, increased focus, attention, etc.; I have also discovered a loosening and even dismantling of the socially constructed “self”. This delicate but profound process tends to be liberating by providing progressive freedom and a healthy distancing from habits, narratives, (painful) memories, emotions, (self)judgements, repetitive thoughts and unhealthy behavioral patterns. This allows for:
• A lighter existence with access to greater peace and joy in everyday life
• More clarity regarding habits and patterns, including negative mental tendencies, and their release
• More skillful, fulfilling and authentic ways to relate to friends, colleagues, and family
• A deep connection to nature I can honestly say never before knew or imagined, and effectively moving away from eco-anxiety
• Creative, gentle, and even wise* parenthood practices, much needed during these challenging times
• Expanding (self)acceptance, including renewed and more gentle ways to relate to the past and re-frame (difficult) memories
• A greater sense of community, belonging, and appreciation for our life, our relationships, and all that lives
• Eventually, your sense of self becomes less rigid allowing for experiences of pure awareness (see for instance this study in which I took part)
• In general, life is experienced in a more playful, creative, progressively relaxed, and meaningful way
Are you a Teacher or in a Leadership position?
Over the years I have had the opportunity to work and provide my services to different educational systems, including international schools, American schools abroad, and Belgian and Dutch educational institutions and schools. After my post-graduate education I specifically focus on the use of meditation, mindfulness and general contemplative practices to promote pro-social behaviors, improve school climate and provide personal development and teacher support.
Bellow you can find a non-exhaustive evidence-based list of the benefits of meditation and mindfulness specifically for teachers:
Reduced stress and anxiety (lower cortisol levels, calmer autonomic response).
Lower emotional exhaustion and burnout — one of the most robustly replicated findings.
Improved emotional regulation — teachers respond less reactively to student behavior.
Greater resilience in face of classroom or administrative challenges.
Reduction in depressive symptoms and rumination.
Increased self-compassion and kindness toward oneself after difficult days.
Decreased perfectionism and self-criticism.
More positive mood and increased joy and gratitude in daily life.
Greater acceptance of difficult emotions and situations without avoidance.
Improved classroom management through increased awareness and calm authority.
Reduced absenteeism and teacher turnover.
Higher instructional quality (teachers stay more attuned and responsive).
Increased sense of meaning and purpose in their work.
Feel free to contact me for a meeting if you feel so inclined. También hablo español.
May you be well and happy, free from harmful habits, negative mind-states, and oppressive thoughts.
Self-Ethnography 