Meditation for Zoom Fails
A few months ago, I experienced a very public and humiliating Zoom crash. It was something out of a classic anxiety nightmare, only updated. Things started out well. The people in the Zoom squares seemed attentive and engaged, and most even had their cameras on. Suddenly, everything froze. My colleagues became lifeless. The participants began to disappear. My screen went black.
I did everything I could to get back to the Zoom room, trying all the various techniques I’d developed over the past few years, but to no avail. It turned out there was construction in the neighborhood, and the outage was extensive. Of course, there had been no advance warning, and there was nothing that I could do to fix it, other than fire up my phone, which I did.
I wish I could tell you that after years of meditation, therapy, and working with my inner critic, I responded to this crash with equanimity. I didn’t. As it happens, my lecture, which I’d been preparing for weeks, was on Self-Compassion, so the irony of going down the familiar rabbit hole of shame didn’t escape me. It didn’t help that just as I was re-joining, I overheard the course director comment to the other teachers, “isn’t it interesting how these things tend to happen to those who are technologically challenged?” Ouch. Like the residue of a nightmare, it was hard to let go of the experience afterward.
Several months later, I watched one of my favorite meditation teachers, Alexis Santos (who is on the Ten Percent app) go through a similar experience during a retreat. He was experimenting with a new online platform, which crashed, and though he struggled to get it to work, he just couldn’t. “Well, that was fun!” he emailed all the participants. “Things happen.”
This simple response, leavened with humor, gave me a new insight into what Buddhists sometimes call the “worldly winds” of change and impermanence. As Alexis explained, we want things to turn out a certain way, yet they rarely do. We fixate on the frustration we have when things go awry, but often don’t see our underlying assumptions and desires. In my case, I hadn’t noticed the attachments that were fueling my frustrations: I wanted to impress my colleagues, not to be blown over by yet another worldly wind.
Here, then, are three very short mindfulness practices to experiment with in the moment that things crash, on Zoom or in life:
1. “Of course!”
One of my favorite stories is from the Thai meditation master Ajahn Chah. During a talk, he held up a goblet that he was drinking from. “For me, this glass is already broken. I enjoy it, I drink out of it. If I should tap it, it has a lovely ring. But when I put this glass on a shelf and the wind knocks it over and it falls to the ground and shatters, I say, ‘Of course.’” Next time Zoom crashes, rather than feel that you’ve done something wrong or are somehow incompetent, try saying to yourself, “Of course.” In fact, try this with anything that falls apart. This is the nature of things.
2. Recollection 2.0
There is a classic Buddhist recollection about the profound inevitability of illness, aging, and death. I’ve updated it to cover Zoom fails. Try saying this as your screen freezes: “Zoom is of the nature to fail. Technical difficulties are inevitable in this world. I cannot avoid them, even though I wish I could.”
3. Self-Compassion Break
Finally, any tech disaster is a great occasion for a Self-Compassion Break. Consider saying to yourself something like: This is a moment of Tech Failure. This is difficult and upsetting, even humiliating. But many people experience this; I am not alone. May I be kind to myself. May I extend compassion to myself. May I realize that just because Zoom has failed, I am not a failure. And may I be kind to others when this happens to them.
This may seem a bit dramatic, but isn’t anytime a good time to cultivate self-compassion? Really, you’re just putting your Zoom crash to good use. And after all, while the crash may not be that big of a deal, the shame and humiliation we might feel are real. MIT psychologist and “cyber-guru” Sherry Turkle has speculated that computers are becoming a kind of “Second Self.” When our computers fail, we feel that we have failed. So, give yourself a break.
Finally, after your Zoom fail has passed, go take a walk, get some fresh air, do some stretches and take a few deep breaths. Look at the sky. Everything is subject to change, and everything breaks. Zoom, like everything else in life, is of the nature to fail.
Dr. Susan Pollak is the author of Self-Compassion for Parents and the co-founder of the Center for Mindfulness and Compassion at Harvard Medical School.