Here's the thing you just don't want to work with:
If you don't feel some good-natured fear every day, you're holding back.
The sense must be, better to be shielded than alive. Friend, this is the ultimate life-killing compromise, and mistake. If you want the experience of complete happiness or aliveness, you have to open to the sensations of complete fear as well as complete joy. Like all passing states, fear only stays long enough to show you what you need to see. Avoiding fear just keeps you in the shielded fear cycle. You know you're not enjoying that. Have you had enough?
So, just get to it. Take a step into the fire. That one, right in front of you.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Dear One Percenter
Dear One-Percenter,
Hello, how are you? I understand you’re doing just fine these days, but hey, what’s new? You seem to consistently do quite well. I want you to know, I’m happy for you. I feel happy when I hear that people are doing well.
I’m writing to you because you belong to a group you may have heard about recently, the top 1%. Hey, don’t turn around and look for someone else; yes, I’m talking to you! Remember, you and your fellow One-Percenters are everywhere. Every town has some of you in it. Every state, every company, every group does. One way or another, you can notice that you are materially better off than 99 of your fellow travelers.
I'm sure you're aware that some of those in the other group, the 99-ers, have been going through tougher times than you recently. Some of them have been out of work, for a little or a long while. Some of them started off behind the eight ball from early on, and have never found a chance to gain ground. Some of them will never have the capabilities and means to provide much for themselves, in terms of care, housing and the day-to-day consumables necessary to keep body and soul together.
I’m writing to you, One-Percenter, to ask if you would consider one of the following opportunities, through which you could help all of us out. My request is simply to ask you if you’d be willing to look around your place, see if there’s anything you’re not using, and chip any of that extra in for the greater good. Think Goodwill on steroids. You know how good it feels to get rid of what you’re not using, right?
The good news, I’m thankful to report, is that we have a couple of ways we all got together and agreed on, to keep everybody okay during tough times like these. We’re just hoping you could hand off your extra to any of these efforts.
The first way we’ve already established I’ll call Agreed Community Support. This one’s where we all pitch in to a big pot, and then take from it when someone’s having trouble maintaining themselves at our agreed humane minimum living standard. Now remember, we all agreed to this concept, and continue to agree to it every time we make that heartfelt handoff we call a “tax.” And yes, I know we tend to squabble over what this agreed minimum is, how much everybody ought to pitch in, what we use it for, and when it’s okay or not okay to ask for help from the pot. Still, we’ve set this up for good reason. Think for a moment. If you suddenly found yourself without means, for some reason, what standard would you hope we could all afford to help you maintain? This has happened to your fellow One-Percenters from time to time, so remember that it could happen to you. Be honest, not too extravagant and also not so miserly as to impoverish yourself, because you of all people will have noticed that all totaled, there’s more than enough to go around.
Now, can you ask yourself, are you sure we’re providing at that level for those who are in need of some help today? And if not, are we really so strapped that we can’t?
There’s been talk that we believe we are too strapped as a group. There’s talk that the One-Percenters bear little responsibility for the condition the 99-ers find themselves in. Really, is that true? Certainly, as a One-Percenters, you’re happy to proportionately partake of the benefits you enjoy when the 99-ers are doing well. Doesn’t it stand to reason for One-Percenters to partake equally in those times of group losses and difficulty? As much as you have benefitted by the work and trade of the 99-ers in your own material success, should you not benefit them back in equal measure when they’re in a tough straight?
Considering all of this, I write to ask you this: what will you do, right now, that will reflect what you believe about this? Is there some extra lying around that you’d like to throw in the pot? Is there some way you could communicate to the people making decisions about what’s going in and out of that pot, letting them know that it turns out you actually have some spare resource you’ve seen your way clear to return to the group?
Let’s move on to the other main way we keep everyone okay. I’ll call this way Optional Community Support. There are a lot of the same considerations between the Agreed and Optional ways. The big difference is that with Optional, you get to make an active choice about putting money into the pot in order to help, and you can channel your help in specific directions that feel most likely to succeed.
I’m hoping you’ll think very broadly about the Optional support avenue. Of course there are many groups that can use a direct transfer of your extras, and will deploy your gift wisely and well. Please hand off whatever you’re not truly using so they can put it to good use. Equally enjoyable, I want to suggest, might be for you to manage your own sharing effort. For instance, if you or an organization you’re associated with have some accumulated extra tucked away, sitting in some safe haven, you have the option to free it up and out to the whole. Or maybe ongoing you or your group are receiving quite a bit more than the agreed humane minimum. Good for you, you probably worked hard for it. Now it might feel good to take part of that, make a case for something you’ve dreamed about, and gather some people to give it a go with you, for pay. I see some of you doing just that, and truly, the people involved look like they’re having a pretty good time. I think that approach sounds lots more lively than staring at your extra as numbers on a page, as though something that flimsy could somehow communicate safety or security, never mind actual happiness. And that’s really the bottom line, isn’t it, living somewhere comfortably above the minimum level and being happy doing what you do? Think of how many more engaged, grateful people you could spend your time with, if you went Optional in this way.
Hey, it’s been great catching up, thanks so much for listening. I hope things continue to go well for you. We all wish you well, dear One-Percenter.
All the best,
Us
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Bad Poem
On occasion, I find a poem jumping out of me. Most often, this happens concurrent with meditation, either a sitting or a retreat. I call this my Bad Poetry. This is simply truth in advertising. I've never been trained on this business, so it's best if I'm completely honest about what this is.
Here's a recent poem. Enjoy! --Margaret
Practice noticing
Practice noticing,
Things will change.
Can’t say what,
Unpredictable range.
Noticing breath,
Hard to stay.
Noticing hard,
Back in play.
Noticing body,
What is this?
More I look,
More there is.
Noticing mind,
What a show!
Here, then there,
Where I go!
Noticing good,
Also bad.
Which is which?
All a fad.
Practice noticing,
All things go,
When it’s still,
What’s to know?
only noticing,
get the whole
all in all.
this is all.
That is all.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
The Tree of Life
"There are two ways through life: the way of nature and the way of grace. You must choose which one to follow."
This is just a short post to invite you to a movie that attempts, in a vastly elegant and precise way, to point to that which I stumble around and mostly trip over on this blog. Please see this movie, to remember that you are always making this choice.
This Friday night, July 15, White Mountain Sangha is encouraging people in the central NH area to attend either the 5:15 or 8:15 showings of The Tree of Life, at Red River Theatres on Main St., Concord. We'll meet between shows in the lobby to smile, shake each other's hand or hug. We may not have much to say. The movie says it all.
Here's the non-review I wrote for the Concord Monitor:
http://bit.ly/ptTgQ9
And here's a great link, if you need more incentive:
http://www.twowaysthroughlife.com/
I love you all.
Margaret
Saturday, June 11, 2011
The Mindfulness Police
I teach an eight-week intensive seminar in mindfulness. It's a course that's designed to help people understand mindfulness and to see how cultivating moment-by-moment presence has a fabulous natural side-effect of undoing stressful attitudes and behaviors. People love this course. I hear from people who complete the seminar, reporting that they have received their life back, talking about seeing colors for real now, knowing how life doesn't have to hurt like it has for so long. People find really powerful stuff with mindfulness. It's beautiful.
The name of the course is Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction. It was formulated about 30 years ago at UMass Medical School-Worcester, by a man named Jon Kabat-Zinn. You might have heard of him. He's since helped to make mindfulness an everyday word through the popularity and power of this course. He's written books, facilitated trainings, really dedicated his life to this way. He's a fabulous, warm-hearted teacher and force for good.
So it pains me greatly when I see people using the words of mindfulness as just another stick in the old carrot-and-stick game of life. The LAST thing we need is another thing to beat ourselves and each other up about.
I'll give you an example, something that happens to me a lot as I'm a mindfulness teacher. I hear people say something like "I wasn't being mindful when I yelled at my kid." Or, "Geez, Margaret, where was your mindfulness when you missed your exit on the highway?"
With mindfulness, we're interested in attending to the direct experience of our lives. This means the whole shebang, the full catastrophe, as J K-Z so aptly labels it. We make it our approach to stay with all the kinds of momentary experiences, to see what they're like, what attitudes they support and what behaviors come out of them. We're interested in seeing all of this, without making any kind of deal about it, good, bad or otherwise. We're just seeing, and that's the whole practice. The rest takes care of itself. There is no project to catalog all the wrong stuff and fix it. We're just fine in all the many ways that we find ourselves in this observation, and as we observe, the attitudes and behaviors that haven't been working for us get better and better, without trying to change anything. This is strangely counterintuitive and also powerfully freeing.
Here's how mindfulness works, moment-by-moment. Let's take the example of missing my turnoff, an event that happened to me just yesterday. I'm driving down the street, my destination clearly in my conscious attention. As I'm driving, I notice the monastery on my left, and begin sweetly reminiscing about a recent monastic retreat I attended. While continuing to attend to the act of driving, I also begin to pay attention to remembering the time away. I'm happily cruising along and remembering when I become aware that I have missed my turn. A flash of embarrassment arises, registering as light nausea, flushed face and tight jaw. I feel all of this as a body-flush. Then I smile at myself. I notice what's going on in my mind: I think that I have plenty of time to turn around and make my meeting on time. I notice that there is no one in the car to judge me. The flash of embarrassment is simply what it is, nothing to do with anyone else or even my opinion about myself. There are some further thoughts of judging my lack of focus, but none of them really take. There's no truth to any of it. I'm simply a lady who drives, enjoys remembering pleasant times, experiences embarrassment when she goes off course, and is often on time and sometimes late for meetings. I'm nothing more or less than who I am right now. Another day I might be a total screw-up. The next I might be a fabulously effective sort. The following I might be in a fog of frustration. It is what it is. And it's a great ride, the show of a lifetime, seeing it all play out just as it does.
In summary, I'm exactly like everybody else.
When I know this, really know this through careful, direct observation, the urge to call myself or anybody else on our performance in the mindfulness competition just doesn't come up. When I screw up, I notice what that's like, without needing to judge myself. Taking a kind, clear eye toward the thing ends up being very helpful toward undoing the old habit of beating myself up. And when I do beat myself up, I see this, too, without judgment. The point is, there always comes a point when I see what's happening clearly. This is the arising of mindfulness. And I've noticed that I have no control over when and whether this happens in a given moment. So all I can do is cultivate moment-to-moment awareness when I remember to, and let the rest go. It's the only sane understanding of how this thing called living a life works.
The mindfulness police, on the other hand, want to assess and grade all of your moments. They've been doing this for quite some time anyway, so now they want to tell you whether you are doing mindfulness "right." You might find for a time that you have a mindfulness policeperson sitting right on your shoulder, whispering your screw-ups in your ear. You know what... you need to fire that guy! She, or he, is not doing you any favors. She's actually an old, tired character you've been listening to for a long time, now dressed up in a new uniform. Don't be fooled!
Worse yet is when that guy starts talking out loud, about other people's mindfulness performance, even. Urgh. And, of course, if you catch yourself doing this, don't make a big deal out of it. Notice your breath, and your body sensations, and the thoughts that have you believing so strongly in your right to judge someone else's performance in their life. How's it all playing out for you, right now? And give yourself an A+ for being awake in the moment. It's called mindfulness. That's it. No problem about going all mindfulness-police on somebody, it just a thing that happens sometimes to you and to me.
Do you know why the "What Would Jesus Do?" rubber bracelets came and went so fast? I'm betting it's because people started asking each other the question, like it was their turn to point out that what somebody else was doing was not okay. And there's where the whole thing falls apart. I'm happy to contemplate an ideal peacemaker like Jesus Christ and emulate those qualities I revere. I think this is a practice that, if we all took it up with the moment-by-moment curiosity and interest of mindfulness, could transform the world. And the minute we start judging each other, and finding fault and blaming and shaming the other guy, hasn't the practice gone out the door? The only time I can find that Jesus directly engaged with people and their individual behaviors is when a person made a direct request of him for guidance. Otherwise, if I remember the deal correctly, it's "Judge not lest ye be judged." Right?!
Maybe you can start to get the feel for this, with that brilliant, concise teaching. What happens when you are in judgment, of yourself or someone else? Doesn't the effect of either scenario still only register as your mind tightening up, your shoulders tensing, your sense of superiority getting encouraged? Judgment ends up being an event inside your own body and mind, doesn't it? At least until you go to give some of it away...
As a last thought, I want to add that mindfulness does not make case for never saying anything. There are going to be plenty of times when you have to bring attention to something harmful or bone-headed or simply confused that's happening. So when this is necessary, here's a question to work with: can you do this without finding wrongness, without making the other the bad guy? What happens when you can? What happens when you can't? What happens when you remember that you are exactly like this person in front of you, having one way or another made all the same kinds of mistakes?
Let me know what you find out. In the meantime, I give you an A+ for life, giving it every moment I can remember to do so. And when I can't remember, that's okay, too. Because I fired that inner mindfulness policewoman. Turns out she just got in the way of actual mindfulness.
The name of the course is Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction. It was formulated about 30 years ago at UMass Medical School-Worcester, by a man named Jon Kabat-Zinn. You might have heard of him. He's since helped to make mindfulness an everyday word through the popularity and power of this course. He's written books, facilitated trainings, really dedicated his life to this way. He's a fabulous, warm-hearted teacher and force for good.
So it pains me greatly when I see people using the words of mindfulness as just another stick in the old carrot-and-stick game of life. The LAST thing we need is another thing to beat ourselves and each other up about.
I'll give you an example, something that happens to me a lot as I'm a mindfulness teacher. I hear people say something like "I wasn't being mindful when I yelled at my kid." Or, "Geez, Margaret, where was your mindfulness when you missed your exit on the highway?"
With mindfulness, we're interested in attending to the direct experience of our lives. This means the whole shebang, the full catastrophe, as J K-Z so aptly labels it. We make it our approach to stay with all the kinds of momentary experiences, to see what they're like, what attitudes they support and what behaviors come out of them. We're interested in seeing all of this, without making any kind of deal about it, good, bad or otherwise. We're just seeing, and that's the whole practice. The rest takes care of itself. There is no project to catalog all the wrong stuff and fix it. We're just fine in all the many ways that we find ourselves in this observation, and as we observe, the attitudes and behaviors that haven't been working for us get better and better, without trying to change anything. This is strangely counterintuitive and also powerfully freeing.
Here's how mindfulness works, moment-by-moment. Let's take the example of missing my turnoff, an event that happened to me just yesterday. I'm driving down the street, my destination clearly in my conscious attention. As I'm driving, I notice the monastery on my left, and begin sweetly reminiscing about a recent monastic retreat I attended. While continuing to attend to the act of driving, I also begin to pay attention to remembering the time away. I'm happily cruising along and remembering when I become aware that I have missed my turn. A flash of embarrassment arises, registering as light nausea, flushed face and tight jaw. I feel all of this as a body-flush. Then I smile at myself. I notice what's going on in my mind: I think that I have plenty of time to turn around and make my meeting on time. I notice that there is no one in the car to judge me. The flash of embarrassment is simply what it is, nothing to do with anyone else or even my opinion about myself. There are some further thoughts of judging my lack of focus, but none of them really take. There's no truth to any of it. I'm simply a lady who drives, enjoys remembering pleasant times, experiences embarrassment when she goes off course, and is often on time and sometimes late for meetings. I'm nothing more or less than who I am right now. Another day I might be a total screw-up. The next I might be a fabulously effective sort. The following I might be in a fog of frustration. It is what it is. And it's a great ride, the show of a lifetime, seeing it all play out just as it does.
In summary, I'm exactly like everybody else.
When I know this, really know this through careful, direct observation, the urge to call myself or anybody else on our performance in the mindfulness competition just doesn't come up. When I screw up, I notice what that's like, without needing to judge myself. Taking a kind, clear eye toward the thing ends up being very helpful toward undoing the old habit of beating myself up. And when I do beat myself up, I see this, too, without judgment. The point is, there always comes a point when I see what's happening clearly. This is the arising of mindfulness. And I've noticed that I have no control over when and whether this happens in a given moment. So all I can do is cultivate moment-to-moment awareness when I remember to, and let the rest go. It's the only sane understanding of how this thing called living a life works.
The mindfulness police, on the other hand, want to assess and grade all of your moments. They've been doing this for quite some time anyway, so now they want to tell you whether you are doing mindfulness "right." You might find for a time that you have a mindfulness policeperson sitting right on your shoulder, whispering your screw-ups in your ear. You know what... you need to fire that guy! She, or he, is not doing you any favors. She's actually an old, tired character you've been listening to for a long time, now dressed up in a new uniform. Don't be fooled!
Worse yet is when that guy starts talking out loud, about other people's mindfulness performance, even. Urgh. And, of course, if you catch yourself doing this, don't make a big deal out of it. Notice your breath, and your body sensations, and the thoughts that have you believing so strongly in your right to judge someone else's performance in their life. How's it all playing out for you, right now? And give yourself an A+ for being awake in the moment. It's called mindfulness. That's it. No problem about going all mindfulness-police on somebody, it just a thing that happens sometimes to you and to me.
Do you know why the "What Would Jesus Do?" rubber bracelets came and went so fast? I'm betting it's because people started asking each other the question, like it was their turn to point out that what somebody else was doing was not okay. And there's where the whole thing falls apart. I'm happy to contemplate an ideal peacemaker like Jesus Christ and emulate those qualities I revere. I think this is a practice that, if we all took it up with the moment-by-moment curiosity and interest of mindfulness, could transform the world. And the minute we start judging each other, and finding fault and blaming and shaming the other guy, hasn't the practice gone out the door? The only time I can find that Jesus directly engaged with people and their individual behaviors is when a person made a direct request of him for guidance. Otherwise, if I remember the deal correctly, it's "Judge not lest ye be judged." Right?!
Maybe you can start to get the feel for this, with that brilliant, concise teaching. What happens when you are in judgment, of yourself or someone else? Doesn't the effect of either scenario still only register as your mind tightening up, your shoulders tensing, your sense of superiority getting encouraged? Judgment ends up being an event inside your own body and mind, doesn't it? At least until you go to give some of it away...
As a last thought, I want to add that mindfulness does not make case for never saying anything. There are going to be plenty of times when you have to bring attention to something harmful or bone-headed or simply confused that's happening. So when this is necessary, here's a question to work with: can you do this without finding wrongness, without making the other the bad guy? What happens when you can? What happens when you can't? What happens when you remember that you are exactly like this person in front of you, having one way or another made all the same kinds of mistakes?
Let me know what you find out. In the meantime, I give you an A+ for life, giving it every moment I can remember to do so. And when I can't remember, that's okay, too. Because I fired that inner mindfulness policewoman. Turns out she just got in the way of actual mindfulness.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
The deficit and what you can do about it
How is it possible to cultivate peace and lower the deficit? Here's one of my columns published recently by the Concord Monitor, on this very topic. Enjoy!
http://bit.ly/lExW7w
http://bit.ly/lExW7w
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Sneaking a little yoga into the mainstream!
Here a link to a column I wrote for my local paper, the Concord Monitor. It's about how it helps to build cues into your body, a reminder signal to actually notice what you're experiencing. Kind of an on-the-fly mudra, if you will. Read on:
http://www.concordmonitor.com/article/237161/oops-my-bad
http://www.concordmonitor.com/article/237161/oops-my-bad
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Rather than practicing, I recommend actual-ing
I had a great question come up at the all-day silent retreat that White Mountain Sangha offered this past weekend. I gave an answer that I think met the question of the moment, and I also left the retreat still pondering the question. Like I said, it's a good one, so here it is: what should I do for practice, how much should I meditate, and how often?
Start by recalling that this is the moment. This, this one is the one, with your sweatpants on and the laundry spilling out of the basket and nothing much in the fridge. There's nothing to practice for, you're already an expert at ... This. Stay with This. If you can follow This sincerely, kindly and passionately, it's enough. Breathe in ....This. Feel the texture of ...This. Hear the sound of ...This. Just This. Always This.
Now you're likely to notice how often, despite your long-cultivated expertise at being This, how very often you drift into a fantasy, a non-real realm, one that's better or worse, future or past of this moment. Notice how you jump 10 seconds ahead when someone's talking to you, notice that you're already bracing and gearing up your argument. You miss what is communicated in those 10 seconds. Notice how you begin to harangue and despise yourself for spilling the cereal, or forgetting the dry cleaning. You add an entirely unnecessary dramatic narrative during that time, taking you away from what's right here. Notice how you contract, turn away and escape from the kid in a bad mood in your kitchen. You just missed the window for compassion or clear reflection. Notice how you're having a blissfully good time, and then a thought comes along that reminds you that your best friend is still annoyed at you about something you said last week. You just brought in a character and event from the past, adding these to this moment for no apparent reason. Notice how you just wolfed down twice as many chips as you have any business eating. Now your stomach is upset. Notice how you sat on your foot for so long it went to sleep. Now you're going through the painful, prickly waking up phase.
Practice is designed to bring this constant habit of checking out, avoidance and covering over into conscious attention, so that you stop losing out on the vast majority of life. The purpose of "practice" is to consciously direct yourself to live the very moment-to-moment life you're receiving and experiencing. In meditation circles it is named practice, but really it's turning toward the real thing. It would be better named "actual-ing" rather than practicing!
By "actual-ling", you're cultivating a new habit to stay here, in the aliveness of the moment. It actually shouldn't feel like practice at all, more like a constantly refreshing curiosity or appreciation for what's here. Practice to me connotes rote repetition and getting better at a particular skill. (How dreadful and deadly sounding!) But this "skill" is so elementary and essential to you that there's no way to get better at it. What will happen is that with intention and attention, you'll invite more deeply and richly, fluidly, this living as aliveness. Still, it's clear that it's an activity aimed toward stripping away all of that unnecessary stuff you've been adding. And it's okay to call that activity practice.
How can you tell when aliveness is present for you? Notice yourself taking inordinate interest in the ordinary. Notice that food has flavor, that there's color in nature, that there's pain and pleasure in your body. These things have been there all along, and suddenly you experience them as if like new. Notice that even your thoughts become curiously interesting, and every kind of thought at that. How interesting, the places you go, the problems you create and inflate, the fictions you create. Notice how ordinary people and places become dear, that the whole thing feels like home.
Here's my full disclaimer: I meditate formally just about every day, and spontaneously pretty much constantly. I have found this to be essential to cultivating the habit of living my actual life. I also set time aside for all-day, weekend and weeklong retreats a few times a year. These periods are where I felt aliveness really wake up in me, at more profound and sustainable levels. There is something that centuries of contemplatives in all traditions have discovered about silence: when you deliberately structure some quiet for a time, it helps the system settle so you can see everything I've talked about here clearly. To me, it's invaluable.
I can't say what will work for you. You need to try some things, and see what is conducive to inviting you more and more into living in a truly alive way. I think it's possible for just about any activity to cultivate awakening, if pursued with focus, heart, curiosity and openness to infinite possibilities. Try some awareness practice of your own. I've got more to say about this, more toward inquiry. I'll save that for my next post. Have some fun with this for now.
Start by recalling that this is the moment. This, this one is the one, with your sweatpants on and the laundry spilling out of the basket and nothing much in the fridge. There's nothing to practice for, you're already an expert at ... This. Stay with This. If you can follow This sincerely, kindly and passionately, it's enough. Breathe in ....This. Feel the texture of ...This. Hear the sound of ...This. Just This. Always This.
Now you're likely to notice how often, despite your long-cultivated expertise at being This, how very often you drift into a fantasy, a non-real realm, one that's better or worse, future or past of this moment. Notice how you jump 10 seconds ahead when someone's talking to you, notice that you're already bracing and gearing up your argument. You miss what is communicated in those 10 seconds. Notice how you begin to harangue and despise yourself for spilling the cereal, or forgetting the dry cleaning. You add an entirely unnecessary dramatic narrative during that time, taking you away from what's right here. Notice how you contract, turn away and escape from the kid in a bad mood in your kitchen. You just missed the window for compassion or clear reflection. Notice how you're having a blissfully good time, and then a thought comes along that reminds you that your best friend is still annoyed at you about something you said last week. You just brought in a character and event from the past, adding these to this moment for no apparent reason. Notice how you just wolfed down twice as many chips as you have any business eating. Now your stomach is upset. Notice how you sat on your foot for so long it went to sleep. Now you're going through the painful, prickly waking up phase.
Practice is designed to bring this constant habit of checking out, avoidance and covering over into conscious attention, so that you stop losing out on the vast majority of life. The purpose of "practice" is to consciously direct yourself to live the very moment-to-moment life you're receiving and experiencing. In meditation circles it is named practice, but really it's turning toward the real thing. It would be better named "actual-ing" rather than practicing!
By "actual-ling", you're cultivating a new habit to stay here, in the aliveness of the moment. It actually shouldn't feel like practice at all, more like a constantly refreshing curiosity or appreciation for what's here. Practice to me connotes rote repetition and getting better at a particular skill. (How dreadful and deadly sounding!) But this "skill" is so elementary and essential to you that there's no way to get better at it. What will happen is that with intention and attention, you'll invite more deeply and richly, fluidly, this living as aliveness. Still, it's clear that it's an activity aimed toward stripping away all of that unnecessary stuff you've been adding. And it's okay to call that activity practice.
How can you tell when aliveness is present for you? Notice yourself taking inordinate interest in the ordinary. Notice that food has flavor, that there's color in nature, that there's pain and pleasure in your body. These things have been there all along, and suddenly you experience them as if like new. Notice that even your thoughts become curiously interesting, and every kind of thought at that. How interesting, the places you go, the problems you create and inflate, the fictions you create. Notice how ordinary people and places become dear, that the whole thing feels like home.
Here's my full disclaimer: I meditate formally just about every day, and spontaneously pretty much constantly. I have found this to be essential to cultivating the habit of living my actual life. I also set time aside for all-day, weekend and weeklong retreats a few times a year. These periods are where I felt aliveness really wake up in me, at more profound and sustainable levels. There is something that centuries of contemplatives in all traditions have discovered about silence: when you deliberately structure some quiet for a time, it helps the system settle so you can see everything I've talked about here clearly. To me, it's invaluable.
I can't say what will work for you. You need to try some things, and see what is conducive to inviting you more and more into living in a truly alive way. I think it's possible for just about any activity to cultivate awakening, if pursued with focus, heart, curiosity and openness to infinite possibilities. Try some awareness practice of your own. I've got more to say about this, more toward inquiry. I'll save that for my next post. Have some fun with this for now.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Is it okay for the other guy to win?
Two years ago, on the morning after election day, I was riding pretty high. It was the first time, since I had embarked on the pathless path, that the party I voted for had won big. What a high! There's nothing juicier than having your whole body and heart feed back feelings of happiness and joy. I gotta say, I enjoyed it all immensely.
A few days later, I was sitting with a group of people who, after some time in silence, were articulating their views about the future, based on the election's outcomes. Most were grateful and hopeful for a future where open hearts would prevail and fear would not be the driving force in the public arena. What came to me in those moments was something different. I felt connection with the "losers."
Let me be clear. This was not pity. Pity is that distorted sense that comes up, based on the belief that "I'm better off than you, I'm smarter or richer or saner than you. Poor you for not having what I have." Pity strengthens separation rather than dissolving it. Pity reinforces a Me that holds itself better than the Other. No, this was more like a view into the past and future at the same time. This was compassion, coming out of the certain knowledge that many times before, and soon enough again, I also have had and will have the role of "loser." And that along with losing comes concern for the future, and a sense of lost possibilities, exactly as I was hearing the losing party describe having in their situation.
Every time anyone runs for public office, they're working hard with a good chance that they'll come out the loser, with all the difficulty that entails. It's tough work, and I imagine heartbreaking when you find yourself having to walk away without the chance to make a difference, or being sent home without the satisfaction of finishing a job you started. Given all of that, at that moment, I took a vow to support every public servant who willingly placed themselves into the arena of battling for what they know to be best. That doesn't mean I stop speaking or roll over if bad choices are being made. It means I treat every candidate and office-holder with respect and dignity, and that I do so in thought as well as in word and action. It means that on the Day After, I send my best wishes and hopes to those going off to do the work. It also means that I vow not to cultivate fear, judgment or disdain toward anyone.
Flash forward two years, and here I am. The party that best represents how I'd like to see people supported and society structured is out. O-U-T, out. At least for now.
And I'm remembering my vow.
Is it okay with you if the other guy wins? Is it actually possible to know who should win, or what government should decide and implement? I can think of lots of actions over the years that I thought were all washed up, that turned out to have some merit. I can also think of lots of actions I favored that had strange, unwelcome consequences. And vice versa to all of that, of course. We live in a big, messy country, with all kinds of people having all kinds of high-minded and greedy intentions. This system we have keeps us lurching along, swinging left and right just enough to keep us all as honest as we can muster. It's obvious to everyone that it's not perfect or anything close to it. It's peopled by we imperfect beings, so it's a system that perfectly reflects our imperfection. It is exactly and precisely what it is.
I choose to keep my attitude clear. Do what I know to be correct, best I can tell. Deploy my life energy toward the best efforts I can locate. Recognize the vast amount of imperfection that I can't personally resolve. Rest in the knowing that it is all unfolding, lurching, and stumbling along the way it's gotta. It's a perfect mess. God bless it.
A few days later, I was sitting with a group of people who, after some time in silence, were articulating their views about the future, based on the election's outcomes. Most were grateful and hopeful for a future where open hearts would prevail and fear would not be the driving force in the public arena. What came to me in those moments was something different. I felt connection with the "losers."
Let me be clear. This was not pity. Pity is that distorted sense that comes up, based on the belief that "I'm better off than you, I'm smarter or richer or saner than you. Poor you for not having what I have." Pity strengthens separation rather than dissolving it. Pity reinforces a Me that holds itself better than the Other. No, this was more like a view into the past and future at the same time. This was compassion, coming out of the certain knowledge that many times before, and soon enough again, I also have had and will have the role of "loser." And that along with losing comes concern for the future, and a sense of lost possibilities, exactly as I was hearing the losing party describe having in their situation.
Every time anyone runs for public office, they're working hard with a good chance that they'll come out the loser, with all the difficulty that entails. It's tough work, and I imagine heartbreaking when you find yourself having to walk away without the chance to make a difference, or being sent home without the satisfaction of finishing a job you started. Given all of that, at that moment, I took a vow to support every public servant who willingly placed themselves into the arena of battling for what they know to be best. That doesn't mean I stop speaking or roll over if bad choices are being made. It means I treat every candidate and office-holder with respect and dignity, and that I do so in thought as well as in word and action. It means that on the Day After, I send my best wishes and hopes to those going off to do the work. It also means that I vow not to cultivate fear, judgment or disdain toward anyone.
Flash forward two years, and here I am. The party that best represents how I'd like to see people supported and society structured is out. O-U-T, out. At least for now.
And I'm remembering my vow.
Is it okay with you if the other guy wins? Is it actually possible to know who should win, or what government should decide and implement? I can think of lots of actions over the years that I thought were all washed up, that turned out to have some merit. I can also think of lots of actions I favored that had strange, unwelcome consequences. And vice versa to all of that, of course. We live in a big, messy country, with all kinds of people having all kinds of high-minded and greedy intentions. This system we have keeps us lurching along, swinging left and right just enough to keep us all as honest as we can muster. It's obvious to everyone that it's not perfect or anything close to it. It's peopled by we imperfect beings, so it's a system that perfectly reflects our imperfection. It is exactly and precisely what it is.
I choose to keep my attitude clear. Do what I know to be correct, best I can tell. Deploy my life energy toward the best efforts I can locate. Recognize the vast amount of imperfection that I can't personally resolve. Rest in the knowing that it is all unfolding, lurching, and stumbling along the way it's gotta. It's a perfect mess. God bless it.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Happiness is a side effect... Let Freedom Ring!
It's got to be about freedom.
I was looking at this today. Specifically, I was bringing the best teachers ever to walk this earth to mind, and asking myself how they pointed out this way of living as awakeness. It's quite an activity, actually bringing to mind the superstars of wakefulness and comparing yourself to them. It's thrilling and inspiring, and also scary; it has the potential to sound cocky, even like you've gone right off the deep end. People have been ostracized and even killed for talking like I'm about to talk, for heaven's sake.
It's also a perfectly reasonable thing to do. If you bring to mind your own work on this earth, whatever that might be, isn't it a great idea to emulate the best and brightest? If you are an aspiring quarterback, wouldn't you benefit by studying Peyton Manning's methods, tactics, capabilities, and strengths? Not to become a blind imitation, but wouldn't you do so to determine how you might benefit by incorporating the best of what you see into your own unique way?
So bringing the best to mind, and pondering how they pulled off such spectacular teaching, I found the following:
The Buddha invited us to Be Awake. The name Buddha is nothing more or less than the Sanskrit term for The Awakened. He didn't call himself The Happiest or The Peacefulest. When he saw what he saw, he found himself so transformed that he felt it important to rename himself, and he called himself The Awakened. His description, and this is the best I've gathered from all the third generation reading I've done, admitting freely that I haven't studied the direct translations much; his description of the transformation was having been liberated from that conditioned belief in himself as one bound by the suffering inherent in this conditioned way of being. (What a Catch-22, eh?) For the Buddha, it's about freedom. Freedom accompanied by a big side order of happiness.
Jesus offered salvation. What do we need to be saved from? Can I put it in the following way?: We are saved from all the conditioned habits and patterns, labeled sin in most people's understanding and languaging of Christianity, that leave us feeling separate from the direct experience of the Divine, or the direct experience of God, in Jesus' language. How are we saved from all these? By forgiving ourselves and others of the painful conditioned habits and patterns we all share and instill in each other. Recognizing the depth and breadth, the pervasiveness, the universality of these conditions, and the fact that we're all co-creating the very system of it, forgiveness is almost moot. We are simply saved by the realization that since we're all in the same boat, nobody's any better or worse off than anybody else and let's just give up all this judging and self-recrimination. Let's all grant ourselves our own freedom, and in doing so we naturally and instantly grant everyone else the same. What happens when we stop judging ourselves and everyone else for all the stuff we literally can't help happening? There is a huge sigh of relief, and I mean HUGE. The first time I experienced it fully, I couldn't stop laughing at myself and the world, and this was in the middle of a silent retreat!
Let's look at an even more modern example: the Dalai Lama. Here's his Facebook post (yes, the Dalai Lama is on Facebook, and he wants to be your friend!) from September 23rd:
Sure, the Dalai Lama most often speaks in ways that point to developing and supporting happiness for ourselves and others. Nevertheless, look closely at this quote. Isn't he saying that, to attain happiness, we need to give everyone their own autonomy and full worth? "Treat everyone as a friend" and "never to consider ourselves superior to anyone else," what are these but instructions to stop the attack and defense mode of living?
I say, announce the universal surrender and liberation already and enjoy some peace, and yes, happiness that is not dependent on the vastly inferior and impermanent stuff you've been trained to believe in. Go after real freedom, and notice how much happiness comes along with the bargain. Seeking after happiness is a fine way to get started, but if it remains your only goal, you may have some hard falls in moments when it feels as though happiness is nowhere to be found. Freedom is always available. Granting yourself the freedom to be exactly who and what you are, even feeling not at all happy, this gives you a strange and paradoxical gift of being perfectly happy in your grief, or fear, judgment, whatever. (And just to reassure you, you'll find that the grief or fear or judgment doesn't tend to stick around very long, when you grant it true freedom to be. It only stays if you hang on to it or try to get rid of it. That's going back into that damnable Catch-22. Don't fall for it!)
Being perfectly free and happy while prideful or fearful, or joyful for that matter, being free in all conditions feels so open and fine that you stop needing to manipulate conditions around you to support that old habit of material-based happiness. So no more falsely manipulating people or possessions to find happiness. Imagine the energy you would free up for yourself if you retired from THAT job! Yes, you'll still interact with the world, still do whatever you do to eat and such. But you'll have freed yourself from the vast majority of the work you currently do. It turns out that it's really hard work, staying in judgment, scrabbling after and constructing possessions, conditions and relationships that you keep believing are the source of your happiness, even though they never, ever deliver in a lasting way.
Free yourself. Notice when you're experiencing limitation, and ask yourself if you can be free instead. You don't need to go anywhere else to be free. You don't need anybody or anything else to be different. You don't even need anyone else to be any more or less awake to their own freedom than they are right now. You just have to give yourself your freedom. Give everyone their freedom, to be as free or as confused as they are. Make freedom the top dog. Really give yourself and everyone else their freedom. It's infectious. Try it just even a little, and see what happens to your attitude, to what comes out of your mouth and where your feet take you. Try it and see. See if you awaken. See if you're saved. See if you feel the direct presence of God. See if you experience a form of happiness unlike any you've consciously felt before. And also, see if you start to act in ways that eliminate all the old questions about the right way and the wrong way.
This is the most important part. It's frankly the only thing that works. Try it and see for yourself. You know you want to!
I was looking at this today. Specifically, I was bringing the best teachers ever to walk this earth to mind, and asking myself how they pointed out this way of living as awakeness. It's quite an activity, actually bringing to mind the superstars of wakefulness and comparing yourself to them. It's thrilling and inspiring, and also scary; it has the potential to sound cocky, even like you've gone right off the deep end. People have been ostracized and even killed for talking like I'm about to talk, for heaven's sake.
It's also a perfectly reasonable thing to do. If you bring to mind your own work on this earth, whatever that might be, isn't it a great idea to emulate the best and brightest? If you are an aspiring quarterback, wouldn't you benefit by studying Peyton Manning's methods, tactics, capabilities, and strengths? Not to become a blind imitation, but wouldn't you do so to determine how you might benefit by incorporating the best of what you see into your own unique way?
So bringing the best to mind, and pondering how they pulled off such spectacular teaching, I found the following:
The Buddha invited us to Be Awake. The name Buddha is nothing more or less than the Sanskrit term for The Awakened. He didn't call himself The Happiest or The Peacefulest. When he saw what he saw, he found himself so transformed that he felt it important to rename himself, and he called himself The Awakened. His description, and this is the best I've gathered from all the third generation reading I've done, admitting freely that I haven't studied the direct translations much; his description of the transformation was having been liberated from that conditioned belief in himself as one bound by the suffering inherent in this conditioned way of being. (What a Catch-22, eh?) For the Buddha, it's about freedom. Freedom accompanied by a big side order of happiness.
Jesus offered salvation. What do we need to be saved from? Can I put it in the following way?: We are saved from all the conditioned habits and patterns, labeled sin in most people's understanding and languaging of Christianity, that leave us feeling separate from the direct experience of the Divine, or the direct experience of God, in Jesus' language. How are we saved from all these? By forgiving ourselves and others of the painful conditioned habits and patterns we all share and instill in each other. Recognizing the depth and breadth, the pervasiveness, the universality of these conditions, and the fact that we're all co-creating the very system of it, forgiveness is almost moot. We are simply saved by the realization that since we're all in the same boat, nobody's any better or worse off than anybody else and let's just give up all this judging and self-recrimination. Let's all grant ourselves our own freedom, and in doing so we naturally and instantly grant everyone else the same. What happens when we stop judging ourselves and everyone else for all the stuff we literally can't help happening? There is a huge sigh of relief, and I mean HUGE. The first time I experienced it fully, I couldn't stop laughing at myself and the world, and this was in the middle of a silent retreat!
Let's look at an even more modern example: the Dalai Lama. Here's his Facebook post (yes, the Dalai Lama is on Facebook, and he wants to be your friend!) from September 23rd:
To be kind, honest and have positive thoughts; to forgive those who harm us and treat everyone as a friend; to help those who are suffering and never to consider ourselves superior to anyone else: even if this advice seems rather simplistic, make the effort of seeing whether by following it you can find greater happiness.
I say, announce the universal surrender and liberation already and enjoy some peace, and yes, happiness that is not dependent on the vastly inferior and impermanent stuff you've been trained to believe in. Go after real freedom, and notice how much happiness comes along with the bargain. Seeking after happiness is a fine way to get started, but if it remains your only goal, you may have some hard falls in moments when it feels as though happiness is nowhere to be found. Freedom is always available. Granting yourself the freedom to be exactly who and what you are, even feeling not at all happy, this gives you a strange and paradoxical gift of being perfectly happy in your grief, or fear, judgment, whatever. (And just to reassure you, you'll find that the grief or fear or judgment doesn't tend to stick around very long, when you grant it true freedom to be. It only stays if you hang on to it or try to get rid of it. That's going back into that damnable Catch-22. Don't fall for it!)
Being perfectly free and happy while prideful or fearful, or joyful for that matter, being free in all conditions feels so open and fine that you stop needing to manipulate conditions around you to support that old habit of material-based happiness. So no more falsely manipulating people or possessions to find happiness. Imagine the energy you would free up for yourself if you retired from THAT job! Yes, you'll still interact with the world, still do whatever you do to eat and such. But you'll have freed yourself from the vast majority of the work you currently do. It turns out that it's really hard work, staying in judgment, scrabbling after and constructing possessions, conditions and relationships that you keep believing are the source of your happiness, even though they never, ever deliver in a lasting way.
Free yourself. Notice when you're experiencing limitation, and ask yourself if you can be free instead. You don't need to go anywhere else to be free. You don't need anybody or anything else to be different. You don't even need anyone else to be any more or less awake to their own freedom than they are right now. You just have to give yourself your freedom. Give everyone their freedom, to be as free or as confused as they are. Make freedom the top dog. Really give yourself and everyone else their freedom. It's infectious. Try it just even a little, and see what happens to your attitude, to what comes out of your mouth and where your feet take you. Try it and see. See if you awaken. See if you're saved. See if you feel the direct presence of God. See if you experience a form of happiness unlike any you've consciously felt before. And also, see if you start to act in ways that eliminate all the old questions about the right way and the wrong way.
This is the most important part. It's frankly the only thing that works. Try it and see for yourself. You know you want to!
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Is anything ever lost?
Here's an article I wrote that was picked up by the Concord Monitor today. This points to an episode of contraction, a moment of perceived loss.
Wisdom says, open your arms wide and also tie up your camel. Heart says, try staying wide open and see what comes of it. And I just keep stumbling forward, noticing both views coming and going...
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Can you follow the shape of yourself?
Can you follow the shape of yourself?
Can you follow this shape, into a fiction we call the future?
There are ten thousand versions of me, all around,
each calling out my name.
This one points a finger at me, and shames me into stepping toward it.
That one is perplexed, not knowing a single thing.
Another is intrigued by the adventure of the moment, asking
What is it like, to follow a me?
There’s one who sobs in the corner, so you go there and find
a new you,
sometimes one that scoffs,
or commiserates,
othertimes pities,
or simply sits, attending to the grief.
What do I find, when I step into a shape?
What could you ever find, but a new mountain of roles and scripts,
pouring in through the mailslot?
There are ten thousand versions of me, all around,
and ten thousand versions of every other.
The stage traffic gets to seeming impossibly heavy.
It’s good to blink in and out, not clutching or avoiding,
And get cool with the rest just doing the same.
You and I, we’re trying out different us’s against each other,
Just trying out
until we settle, and expand, into the parts we love to play.
--Margaret Fletcher
(note: this is one in an occasional series I call Bad Poetry. I don't know anything official about Good Poetry, so I call it Bad Poetry for truth in advertising purposes. Enjoy.)
Monday, September 13, 2010
Quit working! I can show you how, call before midnight tonight!
(A note to readers: please make sure you have a relatively quiet space, and a good 15 uninterrupted minutes to read this. There is some homework baked into this post, so it's best to read this when you can give it your full attention. Thanks.)
~~~
You make the world. You make life, entirely, constantly. You can make this whole adventure called life into a constant struggle, a never-ending work project of unlimited scope, or you can live a life of ease. Which one sounds like what you want?
This is a serious question. Lots of people claim they would enjoy nothing better than to relax, smile, and enjoy life. These people would dearly love to stop arguing, railing, feeling annoyed, depressed, just to stop whatever version of overriding discomfort they're suffering from. And these same people are working very hard to maintain their own steady diet of work: drama, conflict, self-righteousness, self-defeatism, self-improvement and/or just plain busy-ness to exhaustion.
What do you really want? Shakespeare tells us, "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts."If you love the drama, the whole show, and you don't want to walk out from the great comic-tragedy role you are playing your life out as, then don't read on. However, if you know that you really want ease and joy, more than anything else, read on. Read on with an open, curious mind. If you read on, do so with the mind that senses potential for something radical, new and even miraculous.
Stop for a moment, right now, and consider the real possibility of something vastly transformative. Please take the time, lower your eyes, and call this forth for yourself, the possibility of not working one second longer than you already have...
And now notice the quality of this moment. How does your body feel, and your breath? What's present in your mind? When there's mystery and promise and pure potential present, what do you feel? Consider, never working again... Take another moment, really answer this for yourself ...
Now see if you can stay with that felt sense of possibility, and the quality of being that accompanies it, and keep reading...
So continuing... how is it that you are making all this work for yourself in the first place? You make the world, so you must make the work, every bit of it. This feels absolutely backwards to most people. The common perception is that the world is a big place someone or something else made, and that it's throwing all kinds of stuff (people, conditions, events) at you. Some of the stuff you like a lot, and lots of it you really can't stand. So with that as a foundation, the deal must be to work hard to get what you like, to work hard to avoid what you dislike, and maybe to find a few moments between the bouts of work where you can experience some peace and enjoyment. This is a system that most of us believe in and follow. We believe it so much that we don't even see it AS a belief system. It is THE WORLD. With this foundation, this widely accepted belief system, the world is made to be so, just like this, by all who accept and follow it. It's stronger than a religion, because we don't even see that we are subscribing to a belief system. There are so many people making this belief-world of constant work, in fact, that it seems ridiculous to question it. It seems deeply counter-intuitive, the idea that there could be another world, another dimension if you will, that doesn't ask you to live out your life as Sisyphus. You remember, that poor king in Greek mythology whose lot was to roll a heavy rock interminably up the same hill. He would get a little break every now and then to watch the rock roll down, then he'd have to trudge down and start pushing it up again. Does life feel like this to you? Do you notice that this heavy load is a constant, and that you're pushing it up hill with every major and minor annoyance and argument and egoic injury you sustain?
If you've read this far and you find yourself already scoffing or rejecting these ideas, you're done, and you could stop reading because you're back to work now. One of those Shakespearean dramas is now playing out, and you are working the role. It's probably a role you've played before, so you're very good at it, and it's difficult to step out of the role once you've identified with this strong character. You might be taking the role of the Undeserving One, or the Superior One, the Long-Suffering One or the Sick One, the Over-burdened One or the Skeptical One. For whatever character, there is a degree of work required. It's hard work to keep maintaining the character. For some of the characters, it may be enjoyable to play their scene out for a while. But their useful time never lasts very long, and then it's a pile of work because you want to keep them going when their scene and lines have truly run their course. For other roles, they're just outright unpleasant, but you have no idea how to climb out of the costume and exit the theater. Or there are just the ones where you're lost entirely, don't have a clue what the script is, and what the other players are at or about. In any case, with any of this, the accustomed character keeps working the scene, on and on, until a new character takes over.
It's not a problem that this happens, by the way, getting lost in the role. It happens to everyone from time to time, myself included, and getting lost will last as long as it lasts. Whether over the short or long term, the role has to play itself out. In fact, paradoxically, the role itself is the means to seeing through all of the work. The role provides you with the means to become thoroughly tired by or simply to question the necessity of all the work the role demands.
To repeat, getting lost in the role is not a problem. It's an opportunity. You get lost in the demands of the role to find your way out of the demands of the role.
As you are considering that as a possibility, if you are, just in the moment as you read this, is it possible to feel yourself directed back to that open, curious attitude? And pause?... Pause and notice what is present... What's different, if anything?... In that movement away from scoffing or rejecting and toward openness and wondering, is there a noticeable shift? And with the shift, is there a release of the constant work project? Check this; lower your eyes again and investigate this. Notice your breath and the muscles in your body, and your attitude. Take your time...
If the answer is "yes, I sensed the shift and felt the change," you are now in the "other" world, the world where there is curiosity, openness, no struggling. As this shift occurred, you released the work of that moment. Here's how this happens. For instance, if you were reading and your reaction was to scoff, one of your characters, the Superior One, entered the stage. This role is hard work, demanding that you hold yourself better than others. There's even a sense of enjoying being the one who knows more than everybody else, even with the stiff back and gut, tense jaw, and the holier-than-though attitude that believes something like "I know how the world is, it is certainly not the way it's described here, and this writer is way off base." When your attitude moved away from identifying as better than, and back to curiosity, you released the work required to protect or defend the firm belief. With the release of that attitude and character, there is the release of the associated work, and then there is ease, an openness to all possibilities. In this openness, you open to the infinite universe of moments that are available to you. Can you sense, is this other place full of wonder and potential? Is there any work to being here? (and if your answer above was no, please notice what is still present in this customary world... are the body and mind tense, contracted, is the jaw tight, the face set? Do you discover somewhere the unnecessary work that is happening in the body and attitude? Now ask yourself if it needs to be this way. Repeat as necessary.)
Now please notice: with this shift, you didn't go anywhere physically different. You didn't undertake a project to fix yourself or to change any condition around you. You just asked the question, is it possible that the world is other than the way I have always thought it to be? And when you asked the question, without pushing anything away, the work of maintaining the Superior One naturally released, and you found yourself naturally in the world of curiosity, ease and openness. Simple, right now, right here.
This shift is a waking up, to the fact that you had been lost for a time, and to the sense that you no longer want to live that old life of hard work. (Bonus Tip #1: the waking up habit is helped along significantly by cultivating the human capacity for consciously attending to what's happening in each moment. In other words, meditate. Consciously set aside time daily to hone this skill. This invites more attending to what's happening, more curiosity, more awakening, more frequently, and therefore less life-as-work. You see? You can hone this skill in many ways, not just by sitting on a cushion, by the way. In whatever activity you choose, notice the moment-to-moment coming and going of the sense of difficulty, of "work," and notice the effect of asking if it needs to be hard work. Do this as a sincere training. Repeat as necessary, and notice the cumulative results over time.)
~~~
You make the world. You make life, entirely, constantly. You can make this whole adventure called life into a constant struggle, a never-ending work project of unlimited scope, or you can live a life of ease. Which one sounds like what you want?
This is a serious question. Lots of people claim they would enjoy nothing better than to relax, smile, and enjoy life. These people would dearly love to stop arguing, railing, feeling annoyed, depressed, just to stop whatever version of overriding discomfort they're suffering from. And these same people are working very hard to maintain their own steady diet of work: drama, conflict, self-righteousness, self-defeatism, self-improvement and/or just plain busy-ness to exhaustion.
What do you really want? Shakespeare tells us, "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts."If you love the drama, the whole show, and you don't want to walk out from the great comic-tragedy role you are playing your life out as, then don't read on. However, if you know that you really want ease and joy, more than anything else, read on. Read on with an open, curious mind. If you read on, do so with the mind that senses potential for something radical, new and even miraculous.
Stop for a moment, right now, and consider the real possibility of something vastly transformative. Please take the time, lower your eyes, and call this forth for yourself, the possibility of not working one second longer than you already have...
And now notice the quality of this moment. How does your body feel, and your breath? What's present in your mind? When there's mystery and promise and pure potential present, what do you feel? Consider, never working again... Take another moment, really answer this for yourself ...
Now see if you can stay with that felt sense of possibility, and the quality of being that accompanies it, and keep reading...
So continuing... how is it that you are making all this work for yourself in the first place? You make the world, so you must make the work, every bit of it. This feels absolutely backwards to most people. The common perception is that the world is a big place someone or something else made, and that it's throwing all kinds of stuff (people, conditions, events) at you. Some of the stuff you like a lot, and lots of it you really can't stand. So with that as a foundation, the deal must be to work hard to get what you like, to work hard to avoid what you dislike, and maybe to find a few moments between the bouts of work where you can experience some peace and enjoyment. This is a system that most of us believe in and follow. We believe it so much that we don't even see it AS a belief system. It is THE WORLD. With this foundation, this widely accepted belief system, the world is made to be so, just like this, by all who accept and follow it. It's stronger than a religion, because we don't even see that we are subscribing to a belief system. There are so many people making this belief-world of constant work, in fact, that it seems ridiculous to question it. It seems deeply counter-intuitive, the idea that there could be another world, another dimension if you will, that doesn't ask you to live out your life as Sisyphus. You remember, that poor king in Greek mythology whose lot was to roll a heavy rock interminably up the same hill. He would get a little break every now and then to watch the rock roll down, then he'd have to trudge down and start pushing it up again. Does life feel like this to you? Do you notice that this heavy load is a constant, and that you're pushing it up hill with every major and minor annoyance and argument and egoic injury you sustain?
If you've read this far and you find yourself already scoffing or rejecting these ideas, you're done, and you could stop reading because you're back to work now. One of those Shakespearean dramas is now playing out, and you are working the role. It's probably a role you've played before, so you're very good at it, and it's difficult to step out of the role once you've identified with this strong character. You might be taking the role of the Undeserving One, or the Superior One, the Long-Suffering One or the Sick One, the Over-burdened One or the Skeptical One. For whatever character, there is a degree of work required. It's hard work to keep maintaining the character. For some of the characters, it may be enjoyable to play their scene out for a while. But their useful time never lasts very long, and then it's a pile of work because you want to keep them going when their scene and lines have truly run their course. For other roles, they're just outright unpleasant, but you have no idea how to climb out of the costume and exit the theater. Or there are just the ones where you're lost entirely, don't have a clue what the script is, and what the other players are at or about. In any case, with any of this, the accustomed character keeps working the scene, on and on, until a new character takes over.
It's not a problem that this happens, by the way, getting lost in the role. It happens to everyone from time to time, myself included, and getting lost will last as long as it lasts. Whether over the short or long term, the role has to play itself out. In fact, paradoxically, the role itself is the means to seeing through all of the work. The role provides you with the means to become thoroughly tired by or simply to question the necessity of all the work the role demands.
To repeat, getting lost in the role is not a problem. It's an opportunity. You get lost in the demands of the role to find your way out of the demands of the role.
As you are considering that as a possibility, if you are, just in the moment as you read this, is it possible to feel yourself directed back to that open, curious attitude? And pause?... Pause and notice what is present... What's different, if anything?... In that movement away from scoffing or rejecting and toward openness and wondering, is there a noticeable shift? And with the shift, is there a release of the constant work project? Check this; lower your eyes again and investigate this. Notice your breath and the muscles in your body, and your attitude. Take your time...
If the answer is "yes, I sensed the shift and felt the change," you are now in the "other" world, the world where there is curiosity, openness, no struggling. As this shift occurred, you released the work of that moment. Here's how this happens. For instance, if you were reading and your reaction was to scoff, one of your characters, the Superior One, entered the stage. This role is hard work, demanding that you hold yourself better than others. There's even a sense of enjoying being the one who knows more than everybody else, even with the stiff back and gut, tense jaw, and the holier-than-though attitude that believes something like "I know how the world is, it is certainly not the way it's described here, and this writer is way off base." When your attitude moved away from identifying as better than, and back to curiosity, you released the work required to protect or defend the firm belief. With the release of that attitude and character, there is the release of the associated work, and then there is ease, an openness to all possibilities. In this openness, you open to the infinite universe of moments that are available to you. Can you sense, is this other place full of wonder and potential? Is there any work to being here? (and if your answer above was no, please notice what is still present in this customary world... are the body and mind tense, contracted, is the jaw tight, the face set? Do you discover somewhere the unnecessary work that is happening in the body and attitude? Now ask yourself if it needs to be this way. Repeat as necessary.)
Now please notice: with this shift, you didn't go anywhere physically different. You didn't undertake a project to fix yourself or to change any condition around you. You just asked the question, is it possible that the world is other than the way I have always thought it to be? And when you asked the question, without pushing anything away, the work of maintaining the Superior One naturally released, and you found yourself naturally in the world of curiosity, ease and openness. Simple, right now, right here.
This shift is a waking up, to the fact that you had been lost for a time, and to the sense that you no longer want to live that old life of hard work. (Bonus Tip #1: the waking up habit is helped along significantly by cultivating the human capacity for consciously attending to what's happening in each moment. In other words, meditate. Consciously set aside time daily to hone this skill. This invites more attending to what's happening, more curiosity, more awakening, more frequently, and therefore less life-as-work. You see? You can hone this skill in many ways, not just by sitting on a cushion, by the way. In whatever activity you choose, notice the moment-to-moment coming and going of the sense of difficulty, of "work," and notice the effect of asking if it needs to be hard work. Do this as a sincere training. Repeat as necessary, and notice the cumulative results over time.)
Okay, admittedly, maybe when you started reading this, you thought I was going to tell you that you don't have to get up in the morning any more and slog to the office, or the airport or garbage truck, or wherever your place of employment is. So if you feel cheated, by all means ask for your money back. But if it's been worth your time to read this, take this away with you:
There is a different world, a new world with an entirely different foundation. It's right here on earth. It's right in front of your face. It is peopled with the very people you know, covered with the same roads and businesses and meadows and forests you know. In this world, ease is always available. It's available at your home and at your place of employment. It's available as you move into the repetitive, daily, necessary work of living, and it's available when you decide to toss off an old job that just doesn't fit anymore. This world's defining characteristic is ease. It accompanies all the joy, the tears, the expansive brightness and the peaceful smallness that naturally comes to everyone over the course of a human life. To live in this world, it's only necessary that you begin to experience it a little, and see that it is possible to live your life in ease, every moment.
As you become familiar with this new world, you will also notice that there are ten thousand ways you leave this world each day to go back to the old work. However, it's not actually necessary for you to inventory and dismantle all ten thousand ways. You only need to experience the truth of this: if your life feels like work, right now, you only need to ask yourself if it has to be that way. Once you ask the question, if you've spent any time at all in the world of ease and joy, the answer will always be obvious. (Bonus Tip #2: once the answer is obvious, it will also be obvious if it's time to change something. Maybe slow down? Maybe stop doing what you're doing? Maybe do more of it, and dump the plan for doing another thing that you actually don't need to do but were worried about? Maybe take a break? Maybe spend more time with people who support your new sense of the world, and less time with those who only like the drama? Maybe ask for help if you sense assistance would usher you more efficiently into this world? Many options, no rules. Just try dancing with it!)
Remember, just ask, do you prefer to do all that work, or would you rather spend your days in the world of openness, curiosity, ease, and joy?
With true curiosity and a willingness for any answer to be true, just ask: Does this need to be so hard?
What do you discover when you ask? What world do you gravitate toward? Does the play "play on," or are you willing to step off the old, accustomed stage and explore the spontaneous, the unknown?
There are literally infinite places to take this exploration from here. I'll say one more thing for now, which is that there are so many questions people have about how it's possible for life to continue responsibly in this new world. They are good questions, really important questions, and I'd be happy to look into them with you. And they are all questions coming from those inner characters who want to keep you pinned in the work world. Just so you know. Therefore, it's critical to look into them, otherwise they will keep you solidly planted in your 24 X 7 work detail.
Please enjoy exploring the truth of what's offered here, for yourself. And if you'd like to look into these things, together, please bring your questions to satsang. It's a place that always locates itself in the new world, so it's the right place to explore the questions. The schedule for White Mountain Sangha satsang meetings can be located at: http://whitemountainsangha.org/calendar.html
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
For Those Interested in Awakening
I write this to state as clearly as I can what is possible for those who want to live honestly, fully, in and as awakeness.
First, there are two conditions necessary. For one, you must know that you’re lost, at least somewhat lost. You must see that something is off, that something doesn’t add up, that there’s got to be a better way somehow to do “this,” (“this” being LIFE.) The other is that you must truly desire to remedy this situation, and the desire must be greater than the habit of living in this accustomed, seemingly safe, but actually often lost and uncomfortable way.
When these two conditions are present, you can wake up to a new way of living. You can see the value of living as your true self, your natural self, that which is not attached and confused by the habit of being lost. Once you experience living as your natural self, you are waking up.
You can experience awakening right now. Locate yourself in a relatively quiet place for a few minutes. Lower or close your eyes, and begin attending to the spaces that occur between thoughts arising in your mind. Don’t worry about the thoughts, what kind, the content, how charged, anything. Let thoughts be. Only continue attending to the spaces between thoughts. Attend in openness to the quality of being you experience when no thought is happening.
Experiencing the quiet between thoughts may be fleeting at first, just glimmers of space between the busy output of thinking that has been cultivated in you and that you habitually experience as yourself. This is not a problem. Relax and be willing to let the momentum of mind spin it’s energy out. Trust that the spaces are there now, and that your ability to attend to this quiet, to experience your natural self, will grow as you attend in this way.
Continue attending to your natural self. Move your attention gently in this direction as often as you sense the possibility, the invitation to do so. Over time you will observe that it’s possible to attend in this way not only sitting quietly by yourself, but also when you’re in company with others and even as you are involved in movement and conversation.
Along with attending to your natural self, you must become curious about how much you are still lost, how often, how long, how deeply. You must be willing to observe that instilled in you is a deeply held belief in yourself as a person who only knows being lost. And, you must be willing to question this belief, and remember the new experience of living as your natural self. You must remember the desire for, and the enjoyment of living in the relaxed openness that you have discovered. You must remember that the desire to live in this awakened way of being is greater than the habit to live in the old accustomed, uncomfortable way.
Evidence of living in the lost state includes experiences of fear, anger, self-judgment, frustration, greed, superiority, judgment of others, futility, depression, inferiority, jealousy, despondency, annoyance, worthlessness, and also includes the behaviors that come from acting out of these states. The defining characteristic of the lost state is discomfort, unsatisfactoriness, that old sense of something not being right. The reason it has always felt as though it’s not right is that, it’s really not right! When these states are observed, please don’t make a problem of experiencing them as they continue to arise. They have a lifetime’s worth of momentum carrying them, so it takes time for them to spin out. Just as with allowing thoughts to arise without becoming caught up, you must allow these experiences to arise, be met fully, and pass away, without becoming caught in them. As experiences come and go, simply continue to attend to your natural self as often as the space arises to invite that. This is the way that the habit of being lost naturally, spontaneously falls away. Making a project to actively dismantle the habit of lostness only directs your attention toward the old ways, which is how the habit of lostness gained such power in the first place. Don’t succumb to this temptation! Simply notice having been lost, notice this without judgment, and redirect attention to the growing, ever-strengthening association with the natural self.
Judgment of yourself for not being “awake enough” or clear enough, or kind enough, or fill-in-the-blank anything enough, is evidence of living in the lost state. Judgment of others for not being “awake enough” is, equally, evidence of living in the lost state. Everyone is lost sometimes. We are all either living out some state of being lost, or we are living as the natural self available to each of us equally. When we are lost, we have no control of it. If a person could awaken in any given moment of being lost, they would and they do. Having experienced the movement between being lost and awakening, this is recognized about all others, and compassion arises. It’s painful to be lost. It’s like if you’ve experienced the pain of a certain illness. When you hear of someone else with that same illness, your heart just goes out to that person fully. When you are living as your natural self, seeing someone experiencing that condition of being lost that you yourself know so well, your heart just goes out.
As the awakening process continues, you will experience awakeness and the experience of feeling lost. As you continue to live out periods of feeling and acting lost, you must continue to cultivate the new habit to direct your attention toward living as your natural self. At any time as you experience the habit of being lost, this habit of believing yourself to be lost can be recognized. This is the perfect moment just as it is, without any reason to analyze or judge having been lost. It’s perfect because the recognizing is the waking up. Now you are awake, or better said, you are living as awakeness. You are living as the Awakened Presence that you are. There is no need to take any further action in terms of waking up. So you can relax.
Your natural self is Awakened Presence. You are Awakened Presence. There is no separation, no you that is different from Awakened Presence. You = Awakened Presence. This equation is equally and absolutely true for all beings. And as you more and more clearly associate with Awakened Presence, you know that each life around you is sharing in this Awakened Presence. All = You = Awakened Presence. When you are experiencing connection with another, this is Awakened Presence recognizing and enjoying Awakened Presence. This is profoundly delightful when known in its full context. It is impossible to overvalue this experience.
When you begin to live as Awakened Presence, you will start to feel the ever-shifting energies of that begin to move through you, through your life movements. Different life conditions call out different aspects of Awakened Presence to move through you. The names we give these energies are love, compassion, joy, kindness, connection, wisdom, generosity of spirit, clarity, humor, equanimity, peace. They are all natural facets of Awakened Presence. You have experienced these purely many times, so you can rest assured that you have lived spontaneously as Awakened Presence many times without understanding it in this way. Now the invitation is to live constantly as Awakened Presence, and to see that these energies are the ones associated with your natural state. You may also recognize what it feels like to try and “fake” any of these qualities. Forced kindness or peace is not natural and does not serve any good purpose. Better to become quiet instead and attend to what quality of the lost state is actually arising, so that it can be known, seen and allowed to spin out its’ momentum.
Awakened Presence knows what to do with whatever worldly conditions are calling for attention. Now let Awakened Presence guide action or non-action. There is no rule book about what to do, if this or if that. There is no need for commandments for Awakened Presence. If there is acting out of lost emotions, once this is seen from Awakened Presence there is knowledge on what to do to correct the direction. If there is lost action in others, Awakened Presence knows how to move to meet that with wisdom and an open heart. If there is any question, abide in the quiet of Awakened Presence, and follow your feet where they take you.
This term I am using, Awakened Presence, and all terms used here, are mine. They are relative to my experience, and therefore most meaningful to me. Find your own language for all of this. This will make it most meaningful, powerful and available to you.
To summarize! Three instructions:
· -Attend to your natural self, Awakened Presence.
· -If you are experiencing fear, disconnection, or emotional pain, you are temporarily lost. Notice this without judgment. That which notices without judgment is Awakened Presence. You are Awakened Presence. In the simple noticing, you return to your natural self. Direct your attention to your natural self, Awakened Presence.
· -Enjoy yourself!
Please freely enjoy the unfolding of yourself as Awakened Presence, and that means enjoy all of it. Hold all experiences as precious in the unfolding process. When you are waking up from an episode of being lost, sense the gratitude in now knowing another aspect of the old habit that can be seen, and thus allowed to naturally unwind. When you are enjoying life as the many facets of Awakened Presence, sense the gratitude in receiving the gift of such a life. It is all precious and deserving of your reverence and delight.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Last bow to a great teacher
Last Friday, after a short battle with cancer, my cat Plink died. Our family, minus Boston-based daughter Laura, accompanied him to the veterinarian's and stayed with him as the vet administered a lethal dose of anesthetic. Plink had stopped eating and drinking, and we knew the rest of his potential time would consist only of suffering it out to the end, so we made the decision for him to avoid all of that. He was brave and sweet and clear to the end.
Plink was the most dedicated member of my local sangha, here at home; above is a picture of him on my meditation cushion. When I sat, he sat. He also sat a lot without me. He did not need me in that regard.
Plink was a great cat master, embodying his true nature without attachment, aversion, pride, humiliation, or concern for past or future. When he was hungry, he ate. When he was cold, he found a lap. When he was done with you, he walked away without a backward glance. When he was in need of exercise, he took himself for a walk. When he was playful, he'd tussle with you, but never really use his claws. When he was affectionate, he'd rub himself on your leg, meet eyes with you, and bump up against you again. When he was without need for activity, he sat with eyes at 3/4 mast, ready to move if called to move, otherwise still and at ease, in deep cat-samadhi. Most of all, when he was tired, he slept. A lot! He was a cat, after all. It's one of their highest powers, to rest deeply. Throughout his life, Plink conducted himself as a cat perfectly at all times. He gets an A+ from me for his essential catness.
I bow to Plink's embodiment of a life lived beyond the bonds of craving and aversion. I learned a great deal by watching his example, and hold it as an ideal to live the life of grace and ease that he enjoyed.
I was blessed to share this cat's life. There's a part of me that misses him, and grieves his departure. And there's the concurrent knowledge that nothing separate really came or departed with the appearance and dissolution of this furry, house-dwelling creature we called Plink. Form is emptiness, emptiness is form. Long live Plink.
Plink was a great cat master, embodying his true nature without attachment, aversion, pride, humiliation, or concern for past or future. When he was hungry, he ate. When he was cold, he found a lap. When he was done with you, he walked away without a backward glance. When he was in need of exercise, he took himself for a walk. When he was playful, he'd tussle with you, but never really use his claws. When he was affectionate, he'd rub himself on your leg, meet eyes with you, and bump up against you again. When he was without need for activity, he sat with eyes at 3/4 mast, ready to move if called to move, otherwise still and at ease, in deep cat-samadhi. Most of all, when he was tired, he slept. A lot! He was a cat, after all. It's one of their highest powers, to rest deeply. Throughout his life, Plink conducted himself as a cat perfectly at all times. He gets an A+ from me for his essential catness.
I bow to Plink's embodiment of a life lived beyond the bonds of craving and aversion. I learned a great deal by watching his example, and hold it as an ideal to live the life of grace and ease that he enjoyed.
I was blessed to share this cat's life. There's a part of me that misses him, and grieves his departure. And there's the concurrent knowledge that nothing separate really came or departed with the appearance and dissolution of this furry, house-dwelling creature we called Plink. Form is emptiness, emptiness is form. Long live Plink.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
The secret truths about floor wax
Funny things can happen to you on a silent retreat. For instance, you can end up talking with your teacher, in complete sincerity, about floor wax.
At White Mountain Sangha, we try and have at least two silent intensives or retreats each year. This is time for sangha friends to explore truth in a supported, structured environment that encourages clear seeing of what is. All the normal life stuff happens on retreat. Joy. Boredom. Grief. Annoyance. Laughter. Anger. Fatigue. It all happens, only maybe more so. What is it like to refrain from speaking and socializing, yet to agree to come together to support each other's inquiry and unfolding into the truth of this life? I can't really answer that because it's different for each retreat and each individual. What I can say is that retreat has been essential for me, irreplaceable, and also sweet and dear.
The first retreat I sat was also the first retreat I managed. Hah! That's usually the way with me: I want it, I go get it! My teacher, Norman Scrimshaw, had been teaching here in NH for just a few months, and I was already bugging him for a retreat. He told me, if you want a retreat, somebody needs to run it. So I volunteered. It was a lot of work, organizing housing and food, taking registrations and answering questions. Never mind actually finding participants! But somehow we said it would all work out, and it did.
Now about the floor wax: we were housed in a family residence near Norman's house that was mid-way through a restoration. As retreat manager, I was responsible for replying to any emergency notes that people left. On our silent retreats, we agree to refrain from speaking and only pass along notes that are highly necessary. And I had received an "emergency" note regarding what kind of product one of the retreatants should use on the newly refurbished wood floor. Now I was also charged, as retreat manager, with checking in with Norman at the end of each day to report any issues, concerns with the retreatants, etc. So that night, in my precious interview with the teacher, I asked about, you guessed it, floor wax. Norman was gracious, gave me the lowdown on what to use, and that was that.
And the next morning, suddenly out of nowhere, came the replay of this comically serious retreat interchange. It was then necessary for the retreat manager to lose it entirely on the back porch of the retreat lodge, laughing until tears rolled down my cheeks, tailing off and then starting all over again. I was fairly well gone with hilarity for about 15 minutes. My husband came to check on me, to make sure I didn't need to get shipped off for observation. And the gift of this: I have not been able to take myself perfectly seriously almost ever again since that moment. What a treasure!
White Mountain Sangha will be offering a weekend retreat late this fall. Why not consider coming, to laugh or cry, to walk and eat and relax with absolutely no agenda, to sit still and see what happens?
I hope to see you there. Don't forget to admire the shiny floors.
At White Mountain Sangha, we try and have at least two silent intensives or retreats each year. This is time for sangha friends to explore truth in a supported, structured environment that encourages clear seeing of what is. All the normal life stuff happens on retreat. Joy. Boredom. Grief. Annoyance. Laughter. Anger. Fatigue. It all happens, only maybe more so. What is it like to refrain from speaking and socializing, yet to agree to come together to support each other's inquiry and unfolding into the truth of this life? I can't really answer that because it's different for each retreat and each individual. What I can say is that retreat has been essential for me, irreplaceable, and also sweet and dear.
The first retreat I sat was also the first retreat I managed. Hah! That's usually the way with me: I want it, I go get it! My teacher, Norman Scrimshaw, had been teaching here in NH for just a few months, and I was already bugging him for a retreat. He told me, if you want a retreat, somebody needs to run it. So I volunteered. It was a lot of work, organizing housing and food, taking registrations and answering questions. Never mind actually finding participants! But somehow we said it would all work out, and it did.
Now about the floor wax: we were housed in a family residence near Norman's house that was mid-way through a restoration. As retreat manager, I was responsible for replying to any emergency notes that people left. On our silent retreats, we agree to refrain from speaking and only pass along notes that are highly necessary. And I had received an "emergency" note regarding what kind of product one of the retreatants should use on the newly refurbished wood floor. Now I was also charged, as retreat manager, with checking in with Norman at the end of each day to report any issues, concerns with the retreatants, etc. So that night, in my precious interview with the teacher, I asked about, you guessed it, floor wax. Norman was gracious, gave me the lowdown on what to use, and that was that.
And the next morning, suddenly out of nowhere, came the replay of this comically serious retreat interchange. It was then necessary for the retreat manager to lose it entirely on the back porch of the retreat lodge, laughing until tears rolled down my cheeks, tailing off and then starting all over again. I was fairly well gone with hilarity for about 15 minutes. My husband came to check on me, to make sure I didn't need to get shipped off for observation. And the gift of this: I have not been able to take myself perfectly seriously almost ever again since that moment. What a treasure!
White Mountain Sangha will be offering a weekend retreat late this fall. Why not consider coming, to laugh or cry, to walk and eat and relax with absolutely no agenda, to sit still and see what happens?
I hope to see you there. Don't forget to admire the shiny floors.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Attention dilution disorder
It’s an interesting dilemma, seeing both the power and the risk inherent in today’s vast array of attention-drawing technologies. Columnist Ruth Marcus recently diagnosed herself in my local paper, the Concord Monitor, as having a “bad case of the shallows,” in a June 9th column headlined as Cyberspace Dunderheads. She tells us that’s actually the title of Nicholas Carr’s new book on the impact of modern communication technologies on the brain. I still need to check out the book, but the concept is familiar. You know that habit you may have, as you work at your computer, that causes you to just skate over information, constantly clicking to the next link to scan, and then move on? Never really landing and immersing? Maybe even noticing this bleeding into time away from the screen, say when you arrive home, now away from your work screen. Maybe you spend a little time glancing at the mail, not really tending to it before this little chore or that amusement draws you here, and then there, and now over here... Does anyone else recognize themselves in this dilemma? I found myself right there with Marcus.
Fortunately, there’s another technology that’s been developed to counter this malady. It’s called mindfulness, or meditation, and it’s been in development for centuries. It’s nice to know it’s been around that long: at least we can feel a little less disadvantaged, realizing that the challenge of cultivating control over attention is not new to these times. With this age-old technology, we use the most sophisticated and flexible hardware/software gadget we have, the body/mind, and we work with its’ capabilities to develop awareness.
Are you willing to see your mind, the neural network that includes your brain and all the neurology that runs through every part of the body, as a technology? Meditators do see it this way, and they work with their own hardware/software gadget to develop their attentional capacity and skills. I am such a practitioner. We meditators go to all this trouble in order to live out the quality of life we choose for ourselves, rather than having external forces like Blackberries and Facebook unconsciously drive our experience. The basic premise of mindfulness is that attention can be trained, that we can train ourselves to take in the facts of the present moment and work with these facts skillfully. When we are able to attend to present moment experience in this way, we can benefit by a number of valuable effects of this practice. We are able to make better choices about how to use our time, we become better able to interact with ourselves and the world effectively and kindly, and we can learn how to take care of the things that need taking care of right way, rather than allowing them to accumulate into bigger problems later on.
How is it that just paying attention to present moment experience makes all of this possible? Look at the challenge mentioned by Ruth Marcus. She describes the way she is now using computer and communication technologies to do her job. She talks about “spending hours skittering across the virtual surface of the web,” which prevents her from focusing properly on any one presentation of information. She even points us to studies and to Carr’s book (which I have not read but certainly plan to), which explain how this type of interaction with technology is teaching our brains to feel this as normal.
From personal experience, I know exactly what she’s talking about. In the most recent corporate setting I worked in, most of the communication happened via e-mail, even though 95% of the conversations were taking place between people who work on the same floor. As an established meditator, what this experience showed me is how anxious-making this is. Trying to attend to multiple e-mail “conversations” to discern attitude, issues, level of severity, to glean what was important to me from the vast amount of chaff, this was subtly and sometimes not-so-subtly exhausting. Someone who practices present moment awareness is able to know the body tension, shortness of breath and the emotional discomfort that this kind of multi-tasking promotes, just as it’s happening. In fact, I’ve decided that multi-tasking is a harmful myth, at least for most people at today's work pace. You really can’t hold multiple tasks and conversations simultaneously in awareness. What you can do is give only a chopped up, partial, sub-standard version of your attentional capacity to each thing as you briefly turn to it. Does this sound like a way to work effectively? What I found in the situation I describe above was that is was tiring and ineffective, and having really seen this, I took some steps with my team to bring about better ways to share information and update each other.
I’d like to suggest that if you relate to this issue, you begin by turning your attention to this question: Is it valuable for me to cultivate attention so that I can place it fully where it is needed in any given moment, and thereby respond to each moment the best possible way? If you sense the answer is yes, I recommend that you move your attention now toward taking action to develop your own awareness in the direction you would like to see it go, rather than allowing today’s external technology to do that for you. Happy meditating!
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Look, Ma, I can do this with one arm tied behind my back!
Have you ever heard of frozen shoulder? This is not some new, chic cut of beef at your local chophouse, folks. I currently have roughly 30% of normal range of motion in my left shoulder. And as a once-per-week yoga teacher (meaning, not professional, but still very much engaged with teaching and practicing) this can really get in the way. Forget demonstrating a pose with arms out to the sides, what about even the business of working to find a comfortable position to sleep, or strongly regretting reaching up mindlessly to attempt to put a pony tail in my hair. Ouch!
Okay, so this is not all that tough, honestly. I've been through childbirth, breast cancer and reconstructive surgery, not to mention some long drawn-out periods of outrage and remorse before. Like every other human on this planet, I have some experience with difficulty. With this, the worst I can say is that it's a constant vigilance to remember that I'm not at 100% on that side, or else dealing with the immediate reminder of pain that comes when I twist through a doorway a little too quickly, say. And in the long run, I feel I'm at peace with the fact that there's likely to be some pain and loss of function sometime between now and when I finally shuffle off this planet. I can even say that as one of the long list of side benefits of a meditation practice, I have become something of a connoisseur of discomfort. It's the only way to really look at and gain insight into this aspect of life, the suffering part, you know? What is this sensation? Burning, throbbing, pressure, tingling, etc.? Is it static or changeable? Unpleasant or simply intense?
What inquiry really comes down to is, what attitude arises relative to the discomfort? I've mentioned that the physical discomfort thing is just fine right now, for however long or short, and intense or light, that it needs to be. But what about the discomfort of having your capability taken away? What is it like to be a yoga teacher who is limping around the studio with one broken wing?
One answer, a real temptation, is to go into pity mode. Why me? When will this ever be resolved? And worse, how can I practice or teach without my down dog pose (you maybe know this one, hands and feet on the floor, butt up in the air, like a two-sided human tent)? Then there's the pride option: I'm going to look pretty strange, hobbling between my mat and the wall of the studio, trying to keep up and failing any appearance of that. There are also the temptations of anxiety, depression, resignation, denial, annoyance, frustration, sloth; there's a multitude of lousy places to take this, right? Some of these have attempted a visit as well, trust me.
Today I was at my beloved Thursday morning yoga class with Jeanne Ann Whittington. Jeanne Ann, ever generous, had agreed to focus this class, at my request, on shoulder function and alignment. As an acupuncturist, Chinese medicine practitioner and super-alignment Anusara yoga teacher, Jeanne Ann is an expert in my book at helping one work wisely with such a shoulder disability. So here I was, facing a movement class designed at my specific request, with a choice. Do I skip the class? The shoulder's been hurting more in the last few days, and I certainly know I need to protect it from damage. But I also know that it's possible to stay very present to sensation and actually learn a lot by working through the physical experience of this shoulder moving in its limited range. And I prefer if at all possible to keep the rest of my body awake, open and strong. So I went for it. And if you'd been a fly on the wall, it would have looked pretty strange, this asymmetrical, floppy arm, half-there series of movements I followed.
But here's what was cool: this practice became very clear because I had no idea what I could do. You know what that is: It's beginner mind! I had a million questions to work through...How can I move this? Can I do this pose at all? What does it feel like? Where is the edge between comfortable work and painful striving? How does it feel to crumble on the mat and give up when you'd normally be flowing through the thick of it? What can I do here, and what can I gracefully (maybe, I'm ever hopeful) surrender to not having, today? Everything was new today on my mat. What a gift!
There came a point when I remembered that this is always life, and will be until my last breath. There's arising and passing away of strength, of mobility, of physical capability. I had a view of myself in my last day on earth, breathing. I pictured myself saying, what do I have here? Okay, got breath, nothing else anymore. So how is this breath? Is it as full as possible, right now? How about this one? Not really with all these words, but just tasting, exploring and maybe even enjoying the experience of still being priveleged to breathe, whether quietly, or labored or panicky.
So don't worry about me, or my shoulder, or anything. Because I won't. It's all an adventure, seeing what I've got today and doing the best I can with that. And how about you? What can you do, right now?
Okay, so this is not all that tough, honestly. I've been through childbirth, breast cancer and reconstructive surgery, not to mention some long drawn-out periods of outrage and remorse before. Like every other human on this planet, I have some experience with difficulty. With this, the worst I can say is that it's a constant vigilance to remember that I'm not at 100% on that side, or else dealing with the immediate reminder of pain that comes when I twist through a doorway a little too quickly, say. And in the long run, I feel I'm at peace with the fact that there's likely to be some pain and loss of function sometime between now and when I finally shuffle off this planet. I can even say that as one of the long list of side benefits of a meditation practice, I have become something of a connoisseur of discomfort. It's the only way to really look at and gain insight into this aspect of life, the suffering part, you know? What is this sensation? Burning, throbbing, pressure, tingling, etc.? Is it static or changeable? Unpleasant or simply intense?
What inquiry really comes down to is, what attitude arises relative to the discomfort? I've mentioned that the physical discomfort thing is just fine right now, for however long or short, and intense or light, that it needs to be. But what about the discomfort of having your capability taken away? What is it like to be a yoga teacher who is limping around the studio with one broken wing?
One answer, a real temptation, is to go into pity mode. Why me? When will this ever be resolved? And worse, how can I practice or teach without my down dog pose (you maybe know this one, hands and feet on the floor, butt up in the air, like a two-sided human tent)? Then there's the pride option: I'm going to look pretty strange, hobbling between my mat and the wall of the studio, trying to keep up and failing any appearance of that. There are also the temptations of anxiety, depression, resignation, denial, annoyance, frustration, sloth; there's a multitude of lousy places to take this, right? Some of these have attempted a visit as well, trust me.
Today I was at my beloved Thursday morning yoga class with Jeanne Ann Whittington. Jeanne Ann, ever generous, had agreed to focus this class, at my request, on shoulder function and alignment. As an acupuncturist, Chinese medicine practitioner and super-alignment Anusara yoga teacher, Jeanne Ann is an expert in my book at helping one work wisely with such a shoulder disability. So here I was, facing a movement class designed at my specific request, with a choice. Do I skip the class? The shoulder's been hurting more in the last few days, and I certainly know I need to protect it from damage. But I also know that it's possible to stay very present to sensation and actually learn a lot by working through the physical experience of this shoulder moving in its limited range. And I prefer if at all possible to keep the rest of my body awake, open and strong. So I went for it. And if you'd been a fly on the wall, it would have looked pretty strange, this asymmetrical, floppy arm, half-there series of movements I followed.
But here's what was cool: this practice became very clear because I had no idea what I could do. You know what that is: It's beginner mind! I had a million questions to work through...How can I move this? Can I do this pose at all? What does it feel like? Where is the edge between comfortable work and painful striving? How does it feel to crumble on the mat and give up when you'd normally be flowing through the thick of it? What can I do here, and what can I gracefully (maybe, I'm ever hopeful) surrender to not having, today? Everything was new today on my mat. What a gift!
There came a point when I remembered that this is always life, and will be until my last breath. There's arising and passing away of strength, of mobility, of physical capability. I had a view of myself in my last day on earth, breathing. I pictured myself saying, what do I have here? Okay, got breath, nothing else anymore. So how is this breath? Is it as full as possible, right now? How about this one? Not really with all these words, but just tasting, exploring and maybe even enjoying the experience of still being priveleged to breathe, whether quietly, or labored or panicky.
So don't worry about me, or my shoulder, or anything. Because I won't. It's all an adventure, seeing what I've got today and doing the best I can with that. And how about you? What can you do, right now?
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Hey, slow down, pal!
I was driving on one of the main streets in my hometown of Concord recently, behind one of those phantom-driver cars. You know the ones I’m talking about? There is no apparent driver, at least that you can see from behind, just a normal-height headrest with nothing sticking up over.
This phantom was driving super slowly and hesitating at every intersection even though we had the right-of-way at each one. The reason I bring this up is more in reference to the guy who was behind the phantom for a while and in front of me. This pickup driver was in some kind of hurry. It was important to him that he weave back and forth, right on the butt end of the slow car. Eventually the slow car pulled over for a bit, and the pickup gunned his engine and sped by. Then I filled in and proceeded behind the stately paced phantom driver.
We are all in such a big hurry. I have to admit, I also had to do a little deep breathing to keep peaceful pace behind the 15 mph-below-the-speed-limit person. My guess is that the driver was searching for an address, or just really cautious behind the wheel these days. This gave me a valuable opportunity to slow down and notice what impatience feels like. Strange, too, because I did not have any deadline that I was about to blow, so there was no concern about inconveniencing another person, or missing the plane to my daughter’s wedding, or anything like that. Just driving more slowly than I’m used to on that road, feeling my chest and throat stiffen up and my gut buzz most unpleasantly. Then, right following this curious attention toward impatience came blessed release from most of the tight buzz. Breathe...right, there’s no rush... settle back. How wonderful!
I actually used to be that pickup truck guy, not too many years ago. I can remember this one incident, standing in line at the sandwich counter in the building where I worked. The deli worker had the audacity to pick up the phone and take an order while she was waiting on me at the counter. She scribbled the other order down, asked a few questions for clarity’s sake, and then hung up and came back to me. Where is the justice, I fumed, the sense of first-come-first-served? Is my time not important? Was I not standing at the counter, in the flesh, rather than calling from a remote office? I remember going into full-blown retail fury mode, giving this person a piece of my mind about proper queuing protocol for customer service optimization, or some such annoying blather. I’m sure this was extremely instructive for this person, what with the orders piling up and people still waiting in line behind me. Not!
Time is a funny phenomenon. When we firmly believe that there’s a finite amount of it, we horde it and get real worked up if someone tries to steal some of ours. Like that deli lady “did” to me. What if there’s actually all the time in the world for everything to happen perfectly? I think about all the times I’ve been so worked up in a hurry, and then actually been truly late for whatever I was racing to. I can’t think of a single time where anybody died, any relationship was rattled for more than 10 minutes, or there was any meaningful deterioration to any aspect of my life. Further, for those times when there has been a true emergency, the resources were fully there to move like lightning, to take care of what needed attending, and to accept what the outcome eventually was, for good or ill. And even more magically, all of that happened without any reference to time, and whether there was enough of it. Granted, I’m not an emergency response professional, but I have to guess that these people must somehow come to grips with the fact that they’re giving their all, using the time, skills and resources available, and that whatever happens comes from their best efforts and is therefore the best outcome possible.
In the deli situation, everything was also happening perfectly. I was perfectly invited to contact some patience with and compassion for a service worker in a tough situation. (As it happened, I missed that invitation. No problem, I’ve had many, many similar invitations over the years, the perfect amount in fact. I’m hearing them nowadays pretty consistently, thank you very much for asking.) And yeah, the deli worker was invited to listen beyond my irate tone and actually consider whether there might be an adjustment to the first-in-first-out process that could keep everyone feeling respected. And I did get my sandwich, and so, I presume, did the person on the phone. And there was exactly enough time for all of this to happen perfectly.
So stop racing around in a dither like you’re running out of time. Take a breath. Give the driver in front of you two car lengths. You might actually find the chance to notice that there’s a lot to enjoy when you stop racing past it all. Check this out for yourself, and let me know what you discover.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Sangha
What is it about getting together with people that makes things more powerful than doing stuff by yourself?
I'd love to explore this question with a few really experienced groups who could help me go deeply into this question, and I think the first group I'd like to talk to today are the Goldman Sachs executives. Now there's a group of people who together made a tremendous impact, that, by themselves they may never have dared to attempt. I speak of course of the recent exposure of GS's successful intention to structure financial investments that had the primary purpose of making money for the executives. (This as opposed to what I believe their publicly stated purpose was, that of structuring financial investments that offered the investors a means to make a reasonable, profitable return in the market.) Now what is it that's in play with something like this Goldman Sachs revelation, that makes bigger things happen than the sum of the parts?
I'm titling this entry Sangha, which is a word I borrow from the Buddhist tradition. Buddhists use this term to refer to the third element of the three foundational components, or "jewels" of their worldview. The first in this trinity is Buddha, or in my way of thinking, the Truth, the essence of everything, beyond words or images, what permeates and binds it all together. The second, the Dharma, is the law, the teaching or way of it, how we experience this unseeable truth. The third, Sangha, refers to the community that comes together around this Truth and supports the teaching and seeing and living out of it. So Buddhists, like most other gatherings in fellowship, see the community as equally important to the truth itself and the expression of it before our eyes. There's something about "whenever two or more of you are gathered" in the name of X that amps up the energy. We feel it, we feel supported and sustained by it, we learn from it. And if it's too rich for our blood, we'll even be driven out by it. But what is it?
There are as many examples of this sangha effect as there are interests and directions we go in. Anyone who has found success with a twelve-step group can tell you about the sangha effect. Political parties with a clear core principle know about this. Every successful business has leveraged the ability of a collection of people to come together and brainstorm, collaborate and invent something bigger and better than what existed in any of their heads independently. Which brings me back to Goldman Sachs. I can't begin to understand or explain what the heck they invented, but I do know that it was bigger, more complex, and wildly successful relative to their true goal, that intention to make the groupthink inventors involved an obscene pile of money while the making was good. I think it can't be helped. When you invite a bunch of the brightest and most money-oriented people in the country, maybe the world, to get together to run something, they will place their own monetary success as their highest intention, and they will build the business to serve that. I mean, what good is a big pile of money if it's not yours? This doesn't mean it has to all take the short route to hell in a handbasket. The long and selfish view says that you structure products somewhat reasonably, to keep the customers around and thus the money rolling into the executives pockets for a long, long time. The Goldman Sachs guys got caught going after too much too fast in a season of steep peaks and valleys. But this is beside my point. It was the deeply shared highest intention that they fostered and grew together that made it all get so big.
And this brings me to the main driver of the value of sangha, for good or ill. Whatever the true intention of a group is, if it's deeply held and felt, will be exponentially enhanced with the addition of each person who shares the intention and joins the effort. What you want, if you place your highest intention toward this, will be given in spades when you join your energy in that direction with the energy of others. The more purely each of you desires this, the more powerful the effect for all. I think there's a best-selling book about this: The Power of Intention. I haven't read it, but I'll guess that there's something in there about coming together with others to underscore and support the successful achievement of your intentions.
This all feels like an interesting description of the effects of intentional community, but what's at play really? The best way I can think to describe it is in-tunement. My husband is a musician, and he has described to me how stringed instruments will produce "fatter" sounds when they are well-tuned to each other. There are more overtones created when the strings are all vibrating in a super-complimentary fashion, which create a much richer sound effect. And so it is with any effort. When there is heartfelt agreement on a direction, when there is very clear alignment among individuals, then there is a richer experience, a "fatter" vibration.
I was talking to a friend recently about all of this, particularly about what happens to this power when you're away from the group. This may be familiar to you, this sense that you can absolutely feel what's powerful and shared and even feel the courage and strength to move in a new direction when you're with the group. And then, when you're back in your "regular" life, the sense of empowerment goes away. Actually, let's hope the Goldman Sachs guys were experiencing this sense of loss in the dark hours of some mornings, wondering if it was a good goal to align themselves with, this goal of slurping up as much money as possible, knowing full well that there has to be a loser for every winner in the money game.
Thinking back to the in-tunement concept, two things. First, there's the question of highest intention. I might have a strong pull in a given direction, but if there's any roughly equal force that runs counter to that desire, I'm going to have to work through the battle of these forces settling out a winner. I'll have to see clearly what the opposing forces are within me, and I'll have to work through what I really, truly want as my heart's deepest desire. And in the meantime, no matter how strong the group energy is, no matter how much it's supporting my own intention, when I'm alone, that battle will still need to ensue until the last man is standing. Secondly, in my experience with this, it can take some time for intention to demonstrate its permanence. I've been pumped up about this and that over the course of my life for short periods, but many times once I was away from the group energy of it, the excitement faded. Turns out whatever it was, I didn't want it that bad.
I don't mean to sully the term sangha here with so much base comparison to political parties and Wall Street shenanigans. Sangha is that gathering of people who have located the highest intention of all hearts, to live as truth. For me, sangha is the sweet, sweet gathering of those whose highest intention is aligned to the highest expression of life, known and expressed in each moment. This is an unavoidably enriching and deep learning community, those who come together to learn how to "love well." This is the last instruction always given as we're released from silent retreat with Open Gate Sangha, one of the communities I sit with as often as I possibly can. The teacher for this group, Adyashanti, gives us this final teaching each time and advises us to live it out to our final breath, since there's no end to the exploration of that instruction. Love well!
I'd love to explore this question with a few really experienced groups who could help me go deeply into this question, and I think the first group I'd like to talk to today are the Goldman Sachs executives. Now there's a group of people who together made a tremendous impact, that, by themselves they may never have dared to attempt. I speak of course of the recent exposure of GS's successful intention to structure financial investments that had the primary purpose of making money for the executives. (This as opposed to what I believe their publicly stated purpose was, that of structuring financial investments that offered the investors a means to make a reasonable, profitable return in the market.) Now what is it that's in play with something like this Goldman Sachs revelation, that makes bigger things happen than the sum of the parts?
I'm titling this entry Sangha, which is a word I borrow from the Buddhist tradition. Buddhists use this term to refer to the third element of the three foundational components, or "jewels" of their worldview. The first in this trinity is Buddha, or in my way of thinking, the Truth, the essence of everything, beyond words or images, what permeates and binds it all together. The second, the Dharma, is the law, the teaching or way of it, how we experience this unseeable truth. The third, Sangha, refers to the community that comes together around this Truth and supports the teaching and seeing and living out of it. So Buddhists, like most other gatherings in fellowship, see the community as equally important to the truth itself and the expression of it before our eyes. There's something about "whenever two or more of you are gathered" in the name of X that amps up the energy. We feel it, we feel supported and sustained by it, we learn from it. And if it's too rich for our blood, we'll even be driven out by it. But what is it?
There are as many examples of this sangha effect as there are interests and directions we go in. Anyone who has found success with a twelve-step group can tell you about the sangha effect. Political parties with a clear core principle know about this. Every successful business has leveraged the ability of a collection of people to come together and brainstorm, collaborate and invent something bigger and better than what existed in any of their heads independently. Which brings me back to Goldman Sachs. I can't begin to understand or explain what the heck they invented, but I do know that it was bigger, more complex, and wildly successful relative to their true goal, that intention to make the groupthink inventors involved an obscene pile of money while the making was good. I think it can't be helped. When you invite a bunch of the brightest and most money-oriented people in the country, maybe the world, to get together to run something, they will place their own monetary success as their highest intention, and they will build the business to serve that. I mean, what good is a big pile of money if it's not yours? This doesn't mean it has to all take the short route to hell in a handbasket. The long and selfish view says that you structure products somewhat reasonably, to keep the customers around and thus the money rolling into the executives pockets for a long, long time. The Goldman Sachs guys got caught going after too much too fast in a season of steep peaks and valleys. But this is beside my point. It was the deeply shared highest intention that they fostered and grew together that made it all get so big.
And this brings me to the main driver of the value of sangha, for good or ill. Whatever the true intention of a group is, if it's deeply held and felt, will be exponentially enhanced with the addition of each person who shares the intention and joins the effort. What you want, if you place your highest intention toward this, will be given in spades when you join your energy in that direction with the energy of others. The more purely each of you desires this, the more powerful the effect for all. I think there's a best-selling book about this: The Power of Intention. I haven't read it, but I'll guess that there's something in there about coming together with others to underscore and support the successful achievement of your intentions.
This all feels like an interesting description of the effects of intentional community, but what's at play really? The best way I can think to describe it is in-tunement. My husband is a musician, and he has described to me how stringed instruments will produce "fatter" sounds when they are well-tuned to each other. There are more overtones created when the strings are all vibrating in a super-complimentary fashion, which create a much richer sound effect. And so it is with any effort. When there is heartfelt agreement on a direction, when there is very clear alignment among individuals, then there is a richer experience, a "fatter" vibration.
I was talking to a friend recently about all of this, particularly about what happens to this power when you're away from the group. This may be familiar to you, this sense that you can absolutely feel what's powerful and shared and even feel the courage and strength to move in a new direction when you're with the group. And then, when you're back in your "regular" life, the sense of empowerment goes away. Actually, let's hope the Goldman Sachs guys were experiencing this sense of loss in the dark hours of some mornings, wondering if it was a good goal to align themselves with, this goal of slurping up as much money as possible, knowing full well that there has to be a loser for every winner in the money game.
Thinking back to the in-tunement concept, two things. First, there's the question of highest intention. I might have a strong pull in a given direction, but if there's any roughly equal force that runs counter to that desire, I'm going to have to work through the battle of these forces settling out a winner. I'll have to see clearly what the opposing forces are within me, and I'll have to work through what I really, truly want as my heart's deepest desire. And in the meantime, no matter how strong the group energy is, no matter how much it's supporting my own intention, when I'm alone, that battle will still need to ensue until the last man is standing. Secondly, in my experience with this, it can take some time for intention to demonstrate its permanence. I've been pumped up about this and that over the course of my life for short periods, but many times once I was away from the group energy of it, the excitement faded. Turns out whatever it was, I didn't want it that bad.
I don't mean to sully the term sangha here with so much base comparison to political parties and Wall Street shenanigans. Sangha is that gathering of people who have located the highest intention of all hearts, to live as truth. For me, sangha is the sweet, sweet gathering of those whose highest intention is aligned to the highest expression of life, known and expressed in each moment. This is an unavoidably enriching and deep learning community, those who come together to learn how to "love well." This is the last instruction always given as we're released from silent retreat with Open Gate Sangha, one of the communities I sit with as often as I possibly can. The teacher for this group, Adyashanti, gives us this final teaching each time and advises us to live it out to our final breath, since there's no end to the exploration of that instruction. Love well!
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