There's this concept in Buddhism called the Sangha. It is defined as the reservoir of support around a person who they lean on and who lean on them. It is seen as the grounding force behind the peace and harmony in someone's life. Because these communities are built around people, they can support those people in many different ways. For a process-oriented person, like myself, the support from a Sangha usually arises when I lose the rhythm and flow of my daily life. It happens when the engine of my mind is still clipping along, but the tires aren't sticking to the road.

This psychological spin-out is what's known as languishing. It isn't a full breakdown or mental stoppage, but rather a distinct feeling of stagnation and emptiness. It's a sense of purposelessness that can happen even when my schedule is packed or I have milestones ahead of me. Because I find my purpose in the doing, this discomfort stems from the inability to find flow and immerse myself in a practice. I swerve from one pursuit to another with no ability to ground myself.

Often I place this pain into my head and try to logic my way through it. If I can just force myself to feel more or be more present, I can finally find that flow again. But many of these emotions, languishing included, aren't logical. They aren't a problem to be solved, but a signal to be noticed and felt. An article from 10 Percent Happier by Yael Shy explains it well: "The mind is a terrible receptacle for suffering. It tries to solve suffering with logic...supplying arguments and counterarguments until you feel like you want to scream. The body, on the other hand, can hold a tremendous amount of suffering and transform it to healing and growth." By locating these feelings instead within the body, I have found that I can finally feel rather than think through these emotions. 

This placement of feelings within the body leads to a new way of viewing the discomfort. In the same way we can't logic our way through a physical injury, the same is true for mental discomfort. It requires time, rest and a build up of the muscles to support the injury. It doesn't mean ignoring or not understanding the injury. It's incredibly important to name, recognize and think about how to heal the pain. But an injury, mental or physical, can't heal purely through intellectualizing it. In the case of languishing, a key component in recovery is creating small, bounded, moderately complex activities to give my mind an opportunity to absorb itself in. It means guarding that time to just do, allowing the tires to grip the road again. But crucially, the tires need a solid ground in order to find that traction. Building and maintaining the reservoir of support through my Sangha is what provides that solid pavement. They are the ones who hold me steady while I find my flow again.