The Unbearable Lightness of Being* | March 8, 2026 | Rev. Liz Olson
- The Church for the Fellowship of All Peoples

- 1 day ago
- 9 min read
*Title from book by Milan Kundera
Dear Friends,
Just when we think things can’t get any worse, another week goes by and guess what? IT GOT WORSE! To me it feels like some kind of absurd whack-a-mole game where no matter how much you do to respond or cope, another one pops up that you have to knock down …with no rest in sight.
We are emotional beings and whether we are letting ourselves feel things or not, we are absorbing chaos, grief, outrage and a gamut of other emotions. Our fear buttons are being manipulated quite intentionally – whether by political maneuvering or by media trying to grab our attention. In our lifetime we are being challenged with extraordinary interlocking human-caused systemic stressors. And for many, this is on top of intergenerational or acute trauma. How do we respond? And, how can our spirits cope, adapt, and even grow so that we are able to participate beneficially in our lives, in our communities, in the great web of life?
As a chaplain I am always looking into different ways that bring our spirit and body into a sense of wellbeing. There’s a teaching that keeps crossing my awareness over the years - in various ways and from different sources. I’d like to share my own discovering with you, in the hopes that it could be helpful. It has to do with finding and cultivating an inner posture of ease, of non-striving, or of “no force.” I am someone who is a hard worker and can be driven by a need to complete and even perfect my undertakings. So it has always grabbed my attention to hear a wisdom teaching that emphasizes the importance of having a sense of ease. How do I do that, I have wondered, and not lose the energy and spirit to accomplish my goals? And how do I stay engaged and present to what is unfolding in the world and not get riled up? How do I be an activist and not succumb to the exhaustion of outrage? I find that I can have such a build-up of constant tension that I have a hard time slowing down and being fully present.
Slowly over time, with intentional awareness and some practices, I have been able to experience what I believe to be an “ease,” and I have been able to let the striving drop for periods of time. When I am able to find this inner posture, there is a sweet softening and a kind of opening of my body-mind. I can feel a releasing of tension in my body that I wasn’t even aware I was holding. I feel an unburdening of pressures, and as a result, I sense a greater clarity and a deepening of my ability to be present and responsive to the moment. I can sense that I am not grasping, not trying to impress, not trying to achieve what I think that society and my family expect of me, not worrying about saying the right thing. Basically, I’m not trying to control and force a certain outcome.
Mindfulness, Ease and Lightness
What I’m learning, though, is that this disposition of non-striving does not mean that I am not engaged in dedicated work or important service. It does not mean that I am avoiding the hard challenges of my own personal life and relationships. The question is: HOW do we go about that work? Of course, how one gets to that place of ease is each person’s own journey, but for me, one way to approach this has been through the practice and cultivation of mindfulness.
I’ve been exploring Buddhism and mindfulness for some years now. Recently I participated in an online course (twice, it was so good!) called “Zen and the Art of Saving the Planet.” It is offered through the Zen monastery in France called Plum Village and it draws on the profound ecological teachings of the Vietnamese Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh. “Thay” – as he is called by his students – was exiled from Vietnam for his stance about the “American” war. He shared in this resistance with his friend Martin Luther King, Jr. who nominated him for a Nobel Peace Prize. Thay died in 2022, but he had established monasteries and teaching centers throughout the world where activists and leaders of personal and social transformation come for retreats to find rest and to learn about ways to sustain themselves in their work.
Brother Phap Dung is a senior monk at the Deer Park Monastery in Escondido, California. In the course I studied, he explains how we need more of a “Zen flavor” to the work of bettering our environment and our humanity. He shares how people who have trained their mind in the energy of mindfulness have about them a spiritual energy that is “a kind of lightness.” He asks:
Do we sacrifice the present moment to achieve our goal? In Zen, to have the ‘Zen flavor’ is to be at ease, to be free from that. So the way we approach, we don’t sacrifice the present moment, sacrifice our relationship to achieve our goal… because that is the same kind of mentality that has brought us into trouble - this very striving and tense approach. So that’s what it means to have the Zen flavor. It’s a kind of energy, a core spiritual energy.
One of the embodied practices that is really challenging for me/really beneficial for me is the slow walking practice that Thay developed. The pace is very measured. With each step you allow yourself to feel “I have arrived.” It can take a lot of releasing to walk that slowly – so for folks who have mobility challenges, you have a head start! Walking slowly and intentionally has the effect on me that I see more, I smell more, I am more aware of my breath, my body, the surroundings … and I can feel a technicolor brilliance of being fully alive. Dr. Blake often signed his correspondence with the blessing: “Fullness of life!” …and THIS is what the fullness of life feels like to me. This practice can bring about a profound sense of ease, although ironically it is not easy to do.
Rest as Resistance to Capitalism
Digging more deeply, I have been learning that this inner drive and tension is a cultural trait. Our patterns of striving are laid into our neural networks from the social and family energetic patterns of norms and expectations for what makes a “good” and “respectable” life. Our profound needs for safety and belonging have been hijacked by a mindset that is beholden to values of productivity, of domination and of control. Empire says that profit supersedes all else and so we have learned to not only step on and over other people(s) to achieve that, we have learned to steel ourselves from our own selves in ways that are blatant and in ways that are invisible.
Rayni Collins is a sleep specialist who points to this “Internalized Capitalism” as having a profound effect on our wellbeing.
Internalized Capitalism…is the belief that your value as a human being is directly tied to how much you produce. …It’s not just societal—it’s personal. It shows up in your self-talk, your habits, your calendar. It's in the guilt you feel for resting. The pride in being busy. The anxiety of slowing down. And it’s not your fault. It’s woven into the fabric of American culture—where hustle is glorified and burnout is normalized. We’re praised for being “hard workers,” admired for sacrificing sleep, and taught to chase productivity at all costs.
Another proponent of rest as a radical response to capitalism is Tricia Hersey - an American poet, performance artist, and activist also known as the “Nap Bishop” for her Nap Ministry. She says “Rest is a form of resistance because it disrupts and pushes back against capitalism and white supremacy.” And her goal is to “deprogram the masses from grind culture.”
My rest as a Black woman in America suffering from generational exhaustion and racial trauma always was a political refusal and social justice uprising within my body. I took to rest and naps and slowing down as a way to save my life, resist the systems telling me to do more and most importantly as a remembrance to my Ancestors who had their DreamSpace stolen from them. This is about more than naps.
Rest is also one of the core embodied practices in the Zen school of Thich Naht Hanh. Practitioners set aside time for lengthy meditations that release the tightness and tension held in the muscles and tissues throughout the body. This essential body practice develops our felt sense of ease and lightness. If you are interested in trying out a full body restorative meditation, here is a link to one led by Brother Phap Linh (46 minutes, including 10 minutes or so of his cello music at the end.)
No Force and T’ai Chi
I am a student of the Chen style of T’ai Chi, one of the earliest forms that is more of a martial art. One of the core principles is that you do not use force with your opponent. This is challenging to unlearn because it is our natural response to tense up and try to combat someone coming at us. T’ai Chi teaches us that if we move with force, our energy can impel us off our grounded center and we become unbalanced, more susceptible to our opponent. Instead, we try to do the opposite – we try to “invite” the opponent to use force and, when they are off balance, we use their own forceful energy to take them down. My teacher always said, “it should feel like nothing.”
I recall the story of a T’ai Chi master in the East Bay who was crossing a street when an impatient driver let his car nearly hit him in the intersection. The master tapped on the hood of the car to reprimand the driver. The driver was furious that this “old man” tapped on his car. He burst out of his car and came at the master with the intention to shove him. But the next thing he knew he was down on the asphalt. A policeman had witnessed it happen from his squad car and came over. The driver was shaken and pointed at the “old man” and accused him of knocking him down. The T’ai Chi master insisted that he didn’t touch the man. The policeman concurred, “I saw the whole thing happen. He didn’t even touch you!” It looked like nothing. This is how one who has mastered their practice can move with ease, with no-force, and “win.” This story is about an actual encounter with physical force, but we can apply this principle to anything that is “coming at us,” such as emotional force.
Jesus and Easing of Burdens
Now, there is one last teaching on ease that I’d like to share today. This has always stayed with me since I was a young girl attending our neighborhood Presbyterian church. This comes from another great spiritual teacher - Jesus of Nazareth. He is recorded in the book of Matthew as saying:
28 Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.
Matthew 11: 28-30, NRSV New Interpreter’s Study Bible
Just the words here can feel soothing, bringing comfort and ease. It invites a sense of safety and surrender, a permission to release, to let go, and to go the inviting way of the gentle, the humble. There is a sense that one can trust this teacher and his promise of rest, of gentleness, and of compassionate spiritual leadership. Jesus offers this in contrast to the harsh rule of imperial Rome, as well as in contrast to the burdensome and legalistic interpretation of God’s will that the Pharisees practiced.
Similarly, many can feel that their load is lightened by “giving up” their burdens to God… still showing up, doing what one can, doing one’s part, but then finally releasing the tension and worry of wanting a certain outcome. We can reach a point in our efforts where we just surrender our will and trust God’s will. “Let go and let God.” Often it is at this place of surrender that we can find a deeper, more peaceful, and more enduring spirit within.
What might it feel like for us to follow these teachings on the wisdom of ease, of cultivating a spiritual lightness? What might open for us in our lives if we let go of our striving, if we open our eyes to the insidious, deadening demands of empire, if we rest? What might we benefit – for ourselves and our lives - if we lay our burdens down?

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