A friend and teacher say this one day in class years ago. I quickly wrote it down because it sounded so beautiful that I wanted to remember it. Later, I wrote it down and stuck it to my fridge as a reminder. Back then, it meant that when I paid attention, even on the bad days, life was good.
Now, I apply it more to the quality that arises in meditation or mindfulness practice. Both of those practices require becoming still enough to really listen, and when we become that still and silent, something wonderful happens. Life's sweetness can be heard in the whisper of my own heart. The song of the birds in a still and early morning. In the glint of sun flowing golden through translucent leaves. I feel it in the warmth of the sand that cradles my body, and the cool breezes that gently sweep through me reminding me I'm alive.
Life is so sweet, and when I pay attention, even on the bad days, life is still good.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Is This All There Is?
"We all know we are meant for more." This is a fundamental truth, and we all know it. Inside each of us is this nagging feeling that there is more out there for us. Life is waiting to burst around the corner. We aren't living to our potential. There has got to be something more to life than this!
I mean, really, there has to be more than the daily maintenance of our bodies, going to work, picking up after yourself, spouse, kids, dogs. More than rush hour traffic, making morning coffee, cleaning toilets, mowing the lawn, and the mundane daily routine of our lives, right? Is this all there really is?
Yes. The nagging feeling about knowing we are meant for more isn't about becoming famous, or rich, or figuring it all out. It's the language of our own hearts asking to be heard, and we're not paying attention. Our heads tell us to plan, to think ahead, to worry, stress, and ruminate about our pasts. But our hearts know no sense of time, and live in the present moment asking for us to wake up, to pay attention, see the beauty before our eyes and participate in the dance of living.
We are very habitual creatures, that are fearful of change, and love thinking. We put thinking above all else, and we create more and more routines, and habits so we can have even more time for thinking! Thinking in itself isn't a problem, but we seem to be spending so much time in our heads that we aren't actually present to the life that is happening around us. Our awareness deadens as we get caught in the stories weaved through our minds. When we spend a lot of time thinking we are missing the scent of our loved ones, the caress of the wind on our skin, the warmth of the sun, and the feeling of being alive.
So I started thinking why we know we are meant for more, and why we feel this lack of purpose and meaning in our lives. The Buddha speaks of us living in a trance, and it's true. The routines we create, the habits we maintain, the thinking we get caught up in, keep us from fully participating in our lives. Yes, we maintain our bodies, we work, we clean toilets. But that doesn't make a life meaningless. By adopting the attitude of paying attention to what and 'why' you are doing anything, and doing them with intention and love makes you a more active participant in your daily life. This dissolves bitterness, and cultivates more joy in doing everyday tasks. We don't have to pick up after those we love out of irritation or obligation. By choosing to pay attention, these tasks can actually be an expression of love to do them. We often get so caught up in the 'doing' and checking off our lists, that our actions become habitual, obligatory, and invisible. When our lives become habitual, we start to 'do' our lives instead of living them. Sadly, one day our lives will be over and we won't even remember it because we weren't really even there we were just thinking about it.
The moments we remember most in our lives aren't necessarily the most dramatic, or poignant, but we remember them because we were fully present to them. This presence and awareness is what makes anything sacred. By bringing presence to our lives, in everything we do, we are thus making our lives sacred. What greater meaning could there be?
You are meant for more than the life you are living. You are meant to be alive!
I mean, really, there has to be more than the daily maintenance of our bodies, going to work, picking up after yourself, spouse, kids, dogs. More than rush hour traffic, making morning coffee, cleaning toilets, mowing the lawn, and the mundane daily routine of our lives, right? Is this all there really is?
Yes. The nagging feeling about knowing we are meant for more isn't about becoming famous, or rich, or figuring it all out. It's the language of our own hearts asking to be heard, and we're not paying attention. Our heads tell us to plan, to think ahead, to worry, stress, and ruminate about our pasts. But our hearts know no sense of time, and live in the present moment asking for us to wake up, to pay attention, see the beauty before our eyes and participate in the dance of living.
We are very habitual creatures, that are fearful of change, and love thinking. We put thinking above all else, and we create more and more routines, and habits so we can have even more time for thinking! Thinking in itself isn't a problem, but we seem to be spending so much time in our heads that we aren't actually present to the life that is happening around us. Our awareness deadens as we get caught in the stories weaved through our minds. When we spend a lot of time thinking we are missing the scent of our loved ones, the caress of the wind on our skin, the warmth of the sun, and the feeling of being alive.
So I started thinking why we know we are meant for more, and why we feel this lack of purpose and meaning in our lives. The Buddha speaks of us living in a trance, and it's true. The routines we create, the habits we maintain, the thinking we get caught up in, keep us from fully participating in our lives. Yes, we maintain our bodies, we work, we clean toilets. But that doesn't make a life meaningless. By adopting the attitude of paying attention to what and 'why' you are doing anything, and doing them with intention and love makes you a more active participant in your daily life. This dissolves bitterness, and cultivates more joy in doing everyday tasks. We don't have to pick up after those we love out of irritation or obligation. By choosing to pay attention, these tasks can actually be an expression of love to do them. We often get so caught up in the 'doing' and checking off our lists, that our actions become habitual, obligatory, and invisible. When our lives become habitual, we start to 'do' our lives instead of living them. Sadly, one day our lives will be over and we won't even remember it because we weren't really even there we were just thinking about it.
The moments we remember most in our lives aren't necessarily the most dramatic, or poignant, but we remember them because we were fully present to them. This presence and awareness is what makes anything sacred. By bringing presence to our lives, in everything we do, we are thus making our lives sacred. What greater meaning could there be?
You are meant for more than the life you are living. You are meant to be alive!
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
May you be happy
Metta is often translated as "loving kindness" or "goodwill" which is a meditative practice in Buddhism. I started practicing Metta a few years ago, and it is probably one of the most powerful practices I've experienced. Here's how the all knowing Wikipedia describes it:
"Mettā meditation: the practice of loving-kindness
Mettā signifies friendship and non-violence as well as "a strong wish for the happiness of others", but also less obvious or direct qualities such as showing patience, receptivity, and appreciation. Though it refers to many seemingly disparate ideas, Mettā is in fact a very specific form of love – a caring for another independent of all self-interest – and thus is likened to one's love for one's child or parent. Understandably, this energy is often difficult to describe in words; however, in the practice of Mettā meditation, one recites specific words and phrases in order to evoke this "boundless warm-hearted feeling." The strength of this feeling is not limited to or by family, religion, or social class. Indeed, Mettā is a tool that permits one's generosity and kindness to be applied to all beings and, as a consequence, one finds true happiness in another person's happiness, no matter who the individual is."
I often practice Metta while waiting in line at the grocery store. I'll look at the people around me and silently say to them "may you be happy" or "may you be peaceful." Or, while I'm doing cardio at the gym I'll send love to the other people around me and then extend that to every person I can think of. Sometimes stopped at a red light, I'll send love to the other drivers. Especially drivers that cut me off, or give me lovely gestures with their fingers. They need it the most. What I learn in this practice is: that how we see someone does not depend on who they are, it depends on the eyes in which we see.
This practice is powerful because it makes me softer and feel fuller. In a culture that celebrates toughness, it can be challenging to stay supple, flexible and open. Yet, being soft allows us to feel, to be yielding, and see beyond our own myopic views of the world. Inviting a softer view can enable us to become much more accepting of people, because they don't need to be so different from us if we already feel complete, full, settled and at peace. It becomes easier to allow people to be who they are because they are no longer threatening to us.
I heard a wonderful view to approach our lives: Imagine everyone in the world is a Buddha except one, you. Just by thinking in this way we give ourselves permission to let go of being right, or needing to control or change situations and each other. We can allow everything to be as it is, and accept everyone as they already are, and be open to learning from each.
"Mettā meditation: the practice of loving-kindness
Mettā signifies friendship and non-violence as well as "a strong wish for the happiness of others", but also less obvious or direct qualities such as showing patience, receptivity, and appreciation. Though it refers to many seemingly disparate ideas, Mettā is in fact a very specific form of love – a caring for another independent of all self-interest – and thus is likened to one's love for one's child or parent. Understandably, this energy is often difficult to describe in words; however, in the practice of Mettā meditation, one recites specific words and phrases in order to evoke this "boundless warm-hearted feeling." The strength of this feeling is not limited to or by family, religion, or social class. Indeed, Mettā is a tool that permits one's generosity and kindness to be applied to all beings and, as a consequence, one finds true happiness in another person's happiness, no matter who the individual is."
I often practice Metta while waiting in line at the grocery store. I'll look at the people around me and silently say to them "may you be happy" or "may you be peaceful." Or, while I'm doing cardio at the gym I'll send love to the other people around me and then extend that to every person I can think of. Sometimes stopped at a red light, I'll send love to the other drivers. Especially drivers that cut me off, or give me lovely gestures with their fingers. They need it the most. What I learn in this practice is: that how we see someone does not depend on who they are, it depends on the eyes in which we see.
This practice is powerful because it makes me softer and feel fuller. In a culture that celebrates toughness, it can be challenging to stay supple, flexible and open. Yet, being soft allows us to feel, to be yielding, and see beyond our own myopic views of the world. Inviting a softer view can enable us to become much more accepting of people, because they don't need to be so different from us if we already feel complete, full, settled and at peace. It becomes easier to allow people to be who they are because they are no longer threatening to us.
I heard a wonderful view to approach our lives: Imagine everyone in the world is a Buddha except one, you. Just by thinking in this way we give ourselves permission to let go of being right, or needing to control or change situations and each other. We can allow everything to be as it is, and accept everyone as they already are, and be open to learning from each.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Heavenly Messengers
So lets start with the small stuff today, why are we here, and what is our purpose? Yeah, right. But isn't that what we are all looking for, some direction to follow in which we give meaning to our seemingly painful, and mundane lives? We seem to strive for that moment when everything will fit together, the climax of our lives that will make everything easier and more worthwhile. Only that moment will never come. Life isn't about reaching a climax, it's a series of events, one after another, and no more meaning than you give it.
One of my dearest friends had expressed to me that they had a fear of being irrelevant, of not mattering. I think most of us can relate to this. We all want to feel like we are worthy of love, appreciation, and having a meaningful existence. I believe the fear itself is really a beautiful thing because it represents the desire to transcend into being more than we are and living a life with purpose.
The Buddha spoke of the "Heavenly Messengers," which consist of the basic truths of the human experience: we are all born, we will all get sick, we will all lose everything we love, we will all age, and we will all eventually die. Pretty sobering truths. However, I see these truths as a great hope. You see, these messengers are here to create the framework of our existence, it's what we do within that framework that gives our lives meaning. If we could grasp the magnitude of these messengers, we would be capable of seeing past the myopia of our own minds and lives and see the greater picture of what unites all of us together.There is such a huge opportunity for compassion, forgiveness, and love because there is so much loss. Life is hard, for all of us, so what can we do in our short lives that will matter? I guarantee it won't involve working more hours, or spending less time with those you love.
I too want to live a meaningful life, I want to matter, and I want to be relevant. What I am realizing is this: to live with meaning, we must give it one; to matter, others must matter to us; and to be relevant, is to be congruent with the person you are and the person you want to be. So here's what I'm trying: work less, play more, love always.
One of my dearest friends had expressed to me that they had a fear of being irrelevant, of not mattering. I think most of us can relate to this. We all want to feel like we are worthy of love, appreciation, and having a meaningful existence. I believe the fear itself is really a beautiful thing because it represents the desire to transcend into being more than we are and living a life with purpose.
The Buddha spoke of the "Heavenly Messengers," which consist of the basic truths of the human experience: we are all born, we will all get sick, we will all lose everything we love, we will all age, and we will all eventually die. Pretty sobering truths. However, I see these truths as a great hope. You see, these messengers are here to create the framework of our existence, it's what we do within that framework that gives our lives meaning. If we could grasp the magnitude of these messengers, we would be capable of seeing past the myopia of our own minds and lives and see the greater picture of what unites all of us together.There is such a huge opportunity for compassion, forgiveness, and love because there is so much loss. Life is hard, for all of us, so what can we do in our short lives that will matter? I guarantee it won't involve working more hours, or spending less time with those you love.
I too want to live a meaningful life, I want to matter, and I want to be relevant. What I am realizing is this: to live with meaning, we must give it one; to matter, others must matter to us; and to be relevant, is to be congruent with the person you are and the person you want to be. So here's what I'm trying: work less, play more, love always.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
The divine children...
Last Friday I had a beautiful and mind blowing experience. I'll tell you, you might think I'm crazy, I thought I was crazy for a few moments, but it was the kind of crazy I wanted to stay. Forever.
It happened while I was teaching my noon hour corporate class. They are an amazing group consisting of varying ages and abilities and I have been lucky enough to teach them for the past year. The class itself started like any other, and then everything shifted as I was observing them in tree pose. All of them were working so hard to do their personal best, and suddenly as I was watching them, everything was different, as they almost seemed to change into what I could only describe as rainbows of light and colour. Each of them separate, unique, but intensely beautiful in their own way, and expressing this individual colour through their bodies in asana. It was wild. Then I noticed their actual bodies and realized that appearance of each physical self, is just an accident, it's just kind of what came out to support the non-physical self, and completely irrelevant to the spectacular rainbows of light that lay inside.
In those moments nothing had actually changed, but how I was seeing things had completely changed. I felt such an overflow of love for these individuals on such a deep level I fought back tears because I was so overcome by it. It was such a remarkable way to feel, and I wanted to hold on to it as long as possible, knowing that it would eventually pass. It was a challenge to find the balance of being in the experience while maintaining instruction of the class.
At the end during Shavasana, I always come around to each student and give them a small neck and head massage with a little personal blessing. This time as I looked at each face, I saw them each as the child they once were, and the child they continue to be, through the innocence that still lives inside us all. I felt such a loving nurturing energy come from me as I blessed and cared for each beautiful perfect soul. They gave more to me in those moments then they will ever know.
The moment has passed, and those feelings have dulled, but as a wise man once said to me "You can never not know something once you know." I now know that I was witnessing the truth of each of us, that we are all the divine child dancing in the beauty of our own light.
It happened while I was teaching my noon hour corporate class. They are an amazing group consisting of varying ages and abilities and I have been lucky enough to teach them for the past year. The class itself started like any other, and then everything shifted as I was observing them in tree pose. All of them were working so hard to do their personal best, and suddenly as I was watching them, everything was different, as they almost seemed to change into what I could only describe as rainbows of light and colour. Each of them separate, unique, but intensely beautiful in their own way, and expressing this individual colour through their bodies in asana. It was wild. Then I noticed their actual bodies and realized that appearance of each physical self, is just an accident, it's just kind of what came out to support the non-physical self, and completely irrelevant to the spectacular rainbows of light that lay inside.
In those moments nothing had actually changed, but how I was seeing things had completely changed. I felt such an overflow of love for these individuals on such a deep level I fought back tears because I was so overcome by it. It was such a remarkable way to feel, and I wanted to hold on to it as long as possible, knowing that it would eventually pass. It was a challenge to find the balance of being in the experience while maintaining instruction of the class.
At the end during Shavasana, I always come around to each student and give them a small neck and head massage with a little personal blessing. This time as I looked at each face, I saw them each as the child they once were, and the child they continue to be, through the innocence that still lives inside us all. I felt such a loving nurturing energy come from me as I blessed and cared for each beautiful perfect soul. They gave more to me in those moments then they will ever know.
The moment has passed, and those feelings have dulled, but as a wise man once said to me "You can never not know something once you know." I now know that I was witnessing the truth of each of us, that we are all the divine child dancing in the beauty of our own light.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Take a breath
Yogis often talk about breath being the center of practice. Whether it be asana (postures), or meditation (seated), each is based on focused breathing. So why so much focus on breath? It seems almost silly to focus on something as normal as breathing. I mean, we all do it, all of the time, and we don't even have to think about it. It just happens.
Exactly.
In 10,000 years our DNA has stayed virtually the same, yet our lives have changed drastically. We no longer live in caves, spear our food, or worry about dying during childbirth. Instead we have cell phones, 12 hour days, working weekends, television, email, podcasts, and a whole host of activities and responsibilities that in order to manage and function within the craziness of it all, are becoming numb.
I see it everywhere. We are becoming so numb to our actual lives that we are starting to become thrill seekers to feel alive. Movies and video games are becoming more violent and more real, TV shows are voyeuristic (I mean seriously, why aren't you living your own life instead of watching someone else's? Such a weird phenomenon), relationships are expendable once they lose their luster (you only need to look at divorce rates), we worship materialism like a god, and booze and drugs have become the most acceptable form of socializing because then you can really 'let loose' and 'be yourself.' Really, and no wonder, because how could we ever possibly feel alive when we don't even recognize that we are. That you are. Alive. Right now.
So yogis were on to something. Take a moment and just sit. Exactly as you are. Let your body relax, and let go of any tension so you can let go of any thoughts that are playing out and purely focus on your body and breath. Feel the weight of the air as it hovers right below your nostrils that moment before you draw it in through your nose (do you realize you are taking in a gas filled with tiny little particles into your body right now?), feel it expand into your lungs (it is now creating a chemical process in your body transforming gas into fuel to keep your body alive), and then feel the release of the breath out through the nose (your body discerned exactly what particles to use creating this reaction and released the rest as waste), before sending it back out into the universe around you. This simple process is really magic. Each breath is really a miracle. There are so many variables that need to occur to not only make this process happen, but possible all together.
Yogis believe that bringing awareness to breath and body are the gateway to the divine which dwells within each of us. While most of us are rushing to keep up with our busy lives, and trying to find things outside of ourselves to feel alive in the moment, yogis are drawing inward. We don't need to look outside ourselves for the answers, wisdom comes from within. So take a moment to sit, take a breath, and realize the miracle that you are. Alive.
Exactly.
In 10,000 years our DNA has stayed virtually the same, yet our lives have changed drastically. We no longer live in caves, spear our food, or worry about dying during childbirth. Instead we have cell phones, 12 hour days, working weekends, television, email, podcasts, and a whole host of activities and responsibilities that in order to manage and function within the craziness of it all, are becoming numb.
I see it everywhere. We are becoming so numb to our actual lives that we are starting to become thrill seekers to feel alive. Movies and video games are becoming more violent and more real, TV shows are voyeuristic (I mean seriously, why aren't you living your own life instead of watching someone else's? Such a weird phenomenon), relationships are expendable once they lose their luster (you only need to look at divorce rates), we worship materialism like a god, and booze and drugs have become the most acceptable form of socializing because then you can really 'let loose' and 'be yourself.' Really, and no wonder, because how could we ever possibly feel alive when we don't even recognize that we are. That you are. Alive. Right now.
So yogis were on to something. Take a moment and just sit. Exactly as you are. Let your body relax, and let go of any tension so you can let go of any thoughts that are playing out and purely focus on your body and breath. Feel the weight of the air as it hovers right below your nostrils that moment before you draw it in through your nose (do you realize you are taking in a gas filled with tiny little particles into your body right now?), feel it expand into your lungs (it is now creating a chemical process in your body transforming gas into fuel to keep your body alive), and then feel the release of the breath out through the nose (your body discerned exactly what particles to use creating this reaction and released the rest as waste), before sending it back out into the universe around you. This simple process is really magic. Each breath is really a miracle. There are so many variables that need to occur to not only make this process happen, but possible all together.
Yogis believe that bringing awareness to breath and body are the gateway to the divine which dwells within each of us. While most of us are rushing to keep up with our busy lives, and trying to find things outside of ourselves to feel alive in the moment, yogis are drawing inward. We don't need to look outside ourselves for the answers, wisdom comes from within. So take a moment to sit, take a breath, and realize the miracle that you are. Alive.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
The light
One of the things I have struggled with since I was very young has been looking people in the eye. I have consciously been acting on remedying this behavior over the years, but some days it's still tough. I was listening to a podcast this morning and it triggered something in my mind.
I had believed that by averting my eyes I could protect myself from anyone seeing who I really was. That if anyone saw this dark, horrible, fraud, then there was no possible way they could love or accept me. The truth is, the things I carried shame from were from when I was a child and young adult learning about life. They are things that I would forgive any child for doing, so why is it so different when it's about me? Why should I be so lucky to be exempt from making mistakes, and then have the luxury of beating myself up over it?
All of us are included in the experience of being human together, and part of that experience includes the discomforts of being human as well. I honestly believe that all of us make the best choices available to us at the time. All of us want to love an be loved, to be seen, and to connect with each other. However, not all of us are given the same set of tools in how to make good choices depending on the experiences in our lives. So we make mistakes, we learn, and we try again. There are no rules to this experience of life, and often we get hurt, hurt each other along the way, and over time may start to feel shame and unworthiness.
The podcast stated that when we see the beauty in another, we become a mirror for that person to see the beauty in themselves. We become a light, to show them the beauty and the truth of who they really are. To see the beauty in another is to see the Buddha in yourself. How I see this, is that if I am to be really true to my beliefs, it is my duty look people in the eye, to let them and me be seen. It is my, and our, responsibility to be a light for those around us to help them see their own perfect Buddha nature. If we allow ourselves to become a light, we give others permission to shine themselves.
I had believed that by averting my eyes I could protect myself from anyone seeing who I really was. That if anyone saw this dark, horrible, fraud, then there was no possible way they could love or accept me. The truth is, the things I carried shame from were from when I was a child and young adult learning about life. They are things that I would forgive any child for doing, so why is it so different when it's about me? Why should I be so lucky to be exempt from making mistakes, and then have the luxury of beating myself up over it?
All of us are included in the experience of being human together, and part of that experience includes the discomforts of being human as well. I honestly believe that all of us make the best choices available to us at the time. All of us want to love an be loved, to be seen, and to connect with each other. However, not all of us are given the same set of tools in how to make good choices depending on the experiences in our lives. So we make mistakes, we learn, and we try again. There are no rules to this experience of life, and often we get hurt, hurt each other along the way, and over time may start to feel shame and unworthiness.
The podcast stated that when we see the beauty in another, we become a mirror for that person to see the beauty in themselves. We become a light, to show them the beauty and the truth of who they really are. To see the beauty in another is to see the Buddha in yourself. How I see this, is that if I am to be really true to my beliefs, it is my duty look people in the eye, to let them and me be seen. It is my, and our, responsibility to be a light for those around us to help them see their own perfect Buddha nature. If we allow ourselves to become a light, we give others permission to shine themselves.
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