Category: Joy - Wisdom in Waves

Weeds or Wildflowers...It’s All About Perception

7/21/2019

Fall and winter are generally seasons for introspection. Summer has been that time for me. Rather than calling it a midlife crisis, I’d like to think of it as midlife reflections.

I’ve been thinking about work, family, friends, where I live, hobbies, my place in the web of life. Where do I fit in? Do I belong?

FOMO (fear of missing out) keeps me constantly second guessing choices I’ve made. Maybe things would be better if I changed them up a bit. After all, so and so says it’s working for him/her/them. It’s so easy to become encased in others’ dreams, ideas, values like an old house, an old soul constantly receiving a fresh coat of paint, forgetting what the base coat ever looked or felt like.

I value time for silent reflection more than the most exotic place to visit, the biggest diamond, the prettiest home, sometimes even over relationships I deeply value. It’s where I can hear and remember how to live life from the inside out, what that base coat on this heart feels like, what it’s trying to tell me. I’m writing this on the Arbolejo Overlook of the Chamise trail at Foothills Park where some of these photos were taken.

There’s this snail-paced, slow and steady movement towards JOMO (joy of missing out). It’s so refreshing to trust the moment as my greatest teacher. I don’t need to whirlwind into the future with an expectation for definite answers. I can trust the leaves of wisdom to gently fall into my lap when they are ready to let go, to be known.

Love is so much larger than fear, doubt, and comparing mind. I am learning this in the arms of a beloved community, in the wild and vast lap of Mama Earth. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Gate gate para gate para sum gate bodhi swaha!
(Gone, gone, gone beyond, gone far beyond, to Awakening!)

To Contentment.

Just as it is, Just as you are

5/18/2019

Woke up with a pounding headache
Stayed up late last night
Come sit on the zafu
With everything as it is
Thoughts chasing the future
Replaying the past
It’s always better somewhere else
Or is it
Belly tensing against today
What do I need to do
What will the weather be like
Should have stayed asleep
For a better meditation
Waking up later
To practice again
It’s ok sweetheart
Welcome home
Just as you are
Finding the breath as ally
Soothing the body
Gathering swirling thoughts
Collecting them as mementos
For the heart to hold
Getting quiet
Sitting like a mountain
Unmoved by the weather outside
Breathing in oxygen
Breathing out carbon dioxide
Symbiosis with trees
Appreciation
Breathing in his suffering
Breathing out compassion
Breathing in her struggles
Breathing out support
Breathing in their confusion
Breathing out understanding
Breathing in the joy
Of this practice
Breathing out the wish
May others experience this too

Waking Up to the Love That is Here - Reflections from Retreat

6/9/2018

Thank you DoriMa and Kairos House Sangha for shaping my experience and heart. May the metta force field protect us all.

*****

Day 1

No one in the driver’s seat
Ignition empty of keys
Car is parked right here
Where every journey begins

The words tiptoe into consciousness at five something am the morning I leave for Spokane. A retreat will begin today with Dori Ma and the Kairos House Sangha, “Waking up to the Love That is Here”.

At breakfast my partner asks what number I am in line for boarding the Southwest flight. A momentary “oh, oh” lodges in the belly. I never forget the boarding pass. Never. It’s either forgetfulness, feeling too relaxed, or something else.

Holding on to a pass labeled C18, I’m skeptical of Southwest employees allowing a large backpack containing a zafu, an oblong rolled up yoga mat, and a medium sized purse to be carried by one person on to the plane. But no one says anything.

Surprise shifts to surrender. I have no idea what will happen in the next moment. I may be asked to check in something, or not. Boarding the plane, there’s a seat in between two folks in the fourth row on the left hand side. The overhead bin has space for the large backpack. Yoga mat and purse keep my feet company beneath the seat in front of me.

Grateful for having an inspiring conversation with a Nigerian American Uber driver about diversity, politics, history, and his family on the drive to the airport, as well as a Caucasian man born and raised in the Bay Area now retired and living an exciting, unplugged, retired life in Montana’s company before the flight, I’m waking up to the love that is here.

Day 2

A story is shared in the morning practice session of a Buddha statue in Asia covered in plaster. One day a monk detected a crack, a glimmer of light from within. The Gold Buddha was encased in plaster to protect invaders over centuries from stealing it.

How is my True Nature encased in greed, hatred, delusion? A subtle aversion has surrounded this heart. Comparing Mind takes note of the bathroom, my room, the food, the meditation space, fellow yogis on retreat. This isn’t DPP6. This isn’t Spirit Rock.

In a morning sit, I trace the aversion back to Spokane Airport where I first landed yesterday. I was looking for some colored fish in a sea of white foam to feel a sense of belonging.

No wonder I’m feeling like a fish out of native Sangha waters. I may be the only POC here.

*****

We take the five precepts together. Knowing that our lives are intertwined, I vow to protect all life. This particular precept thins the aversion. The heart quivers. A few tears fall. What do I vow to protect?

I carry the inquiry into walking meditation. Black flies buzz and attempt bites at the nape of the neck and hairline. I want to protect all life, not just a few precious humans, cute and pretty creatures. Even black flies.

Choosing a different walking path close by, there are still a few black flies hovering, buzzing, waiting. I do my best to gently, lovingly brush or blow them away as another yogi catches my eye.

She is walking with hands cupping both sides of the head and neck. The mudra (gesture) holds both the black flies and herself in a circle of Metta. Brilliant idea!

Citta feels an immediate kinship with her. Heart connections are reinforced through exchange of well wishes with other yogis throughout the day. This isn’t DPP6 or Spirit Rock. It’s the Kairos House Sangha in Spokane, Washington detecting a crack in the aversion plastered around this heart, Metta emerging from within.

*****

The day ends with a dedication of merit, palms open to catch late spring petals of today’s practice. The petals are pressed in prayer book palms closing together with heads humbly bowed. May hands open to share these soft petals with loved ones at home, with every being we meet, especially when we forget.

Day 3

Good morning sweetheart. I love you. Loving presence is always with you.

I’m accepting the invitation offered yesterday to practice waking up with Metta as the first thought of the day.

The morning is overcast, wet. Rain fell overnight, moistening the earth for growth. Setting the first Metta intentions for the day in meditation and Qigong practice (and maybe beyond), may I meet all experience with kindness and love. May the earth, all her creatures, be loved and respected.

That’s a tall order. Is that even possible? Her whispers dispel doubting thoughts. I see Her in a frog, a slug, black-eyed susans and pine trees on a morning walk. I hear her in birds chirping, the wind-breath of the Spokan silenced long ago, voices still audible to those willing to listen, the clanking of cutlery against bowls and dishes as yogis partake of Her bounty at breakfast.

She is best friend, advocate, wise advisor, the kind voice and loving energy that pulses through all life.

Can I see Her, hear Her in all?

*****

It’s time to practice Metta for a neutral being, someone who doesn’t invoke a strong like or dislike in us. Examples are offered of who this neutral being could be. I resonate with the example of the garbage collector.

Closing the eyelids, I picture all the larger vehicles I typically pass on the way to work: trucks carrying groceries or goods, school buses carrying children, para transit vans carrying disabled persons to appointments. The Metta phrase comes naturally for the drivers of these vehicles:

May your load be carried with ease.

Their response surprises me.

May you be patient with our load.

Before I know it, motorcyclists and bicyclists are appearing on this meditation drive. Wait a minute! You all aren’t carrying a big load. You’re weaving in between lanes and may get side-swiped in a driver’s blind spot. You’re running stop signs and red lights.

Maybe their load is hidden. Fear of being late to work and losing a job. Distracted by a troubled relationship causing them to take dangerous risks. A life of invincibility untouched by loss.

Neutral beings transform into difficult beings, specific individuals in my life who are hard to forgive.

The heart stretches a bit.

May your load be carried with ease.

Their response encourages me.

May you be patient with our load.

*****

The heart is primed to send blood rich Metta to difficult ones. Can I do this? So much anger, fear and hurt. Anything is possible sensing South Asian Panther aka Bhaiya by my side, an ally who easily reflects my True Nature.

*****

Good night sweetheart. I love you. Loving presence is always with you.

I’m accepting the invitation offered yesterday to practice going to sleep with Metta as the last thought of the day.

Day 4

My greatest wound is abandonment, umbilical chord not only severed at birth, but figuratively falling off the face of Mother Earth. Unwanted child, knocking on the doors of several hearts, begging for love. Who will take me in? Who will understand?

In Qigong, we polish the stone. Another Metta phrase spontaneously arises. May I polish the heart stone to uncover my True Nature. Reversing directions, may you polish the heart stone to uncover your True Nature.

A flash of insight. The heart stone sparkles in sunlight. How did I not see this before?

Wherever you are standing,
sitting, walking, or lying down,
the earth knows,
cradling feet, sits bones, back, head.
Wherever you are
with friend or foe,
why worry about safety?
You are Metta
embodied,
getting curious, asking questions,
seeking authentic connection.
How can you ever be lost
when the earth knows
where you are?

My greatest joy is belonging, a sparkling jewel at the node of life’s web, Metta embodied, mirroring all life, all of life reflecting me.

The earth knows where I am.

*****

It’s time to send Metta to groups of beings. Who do I want to choose? Releasing the need to know, to have a plan, the first group appears. All those that struggle with sleep.

May you be wide awake when necessary, and sleep well.

Metta is slowly generated for other groups experiencing what I am on retreat in this moment: midback pain from sitting, a chill in the bones from wet, washed hair.

May your back support you. May you feel ease.
May you have shelter and warmth from the cold.

There is also joy: a bright and sunny day outside, unplugged from the Matrix of rushing, performing, stretching till I’m about to break.

Metta is generated for other groups who may not experience this. Prisoners in solitary confinement, persons home bound due to a specific condition, fetuses swirling in an amniotic sea who may never see, feel the light of a bright and sunny day. Parents working two jobs to make ends meet at home, high school students stressing over grades, ACT’s, and SAT’s to make it into a prestigious college promising a home away from home, those who ride the corporate rainbow for a pot of gold at the other end with little chance to unplug.

If you cannot go outside, may you feel the light of love.
If you cannot unplug from the Matrix, may you experience moments of rest.

Like a venn diagram, I sense the overlap among circles of Metta, Karuna, Mudita, Uppekha.

Sensing what is needed within and outside, may I offer it up readily to myself and others, ambrosia of the gods. May I receive it from others when feeling unresourced and overwhelmed.

*****

In a group process, we generate Metta for winged ones, water based ones, four leggeds, and creepy crawlers. Are these just wishes for their safety, wellbeing, ease, and freedom, or will the wishes be actualized?

Taking this inquiry outside into Nature and walking meditation, I walk a straight line back and forth. Thoughts stay logical. So I begin to walk in a circle, spiraling towards a center of creative knowing.

What beings have to die so I can live? How can old patterns in thought, word, and deed die so more creatures might live?

May we continue to ask these questions in reverence for all life, not just our own.

*****

The sun is setting between pine trees, last glimmers of light before the evening talk, before darkness sets in and the outside world encroaches.

So many wonderful moments. What do I want to remember most?

The answer comes in a quote/teaching shared in the evening talk. “Thank you for everything. I have no complaint whatsoever.” (Zen master Sono)

Day 5

I wake up way before the alarm sounds. A jackhammer headache is drilling through the right temple. The throat is slightly sore with some post nasal drip.

Shit! This isn’t how I want the retreat to end!

Thank you for everything. I have no complaint whatsoever.

Are you kidding? I can hear this when the heart is full of Metta. Right now, it’s encased in so much aversion. Gold Buddha? Where are you? Is Sono taunting me or offering freedom? I choose freedom.

In morning meditation, I decide to try lying down in a restorative yoga posture. That’s it Kaveri. Rest.

Her (Jackie Long, founder of Mind Body Moms) words sing to me sweetly.

You are working so hard
You are giving so much love
You are being held by us
By the earth and stars above

You will find your way through this
You will make it through somehow
We all see how strong you are
And we know your ready now

Once again, the lullaby thins the aversion. May the body support me. May I rest deeply. May this practice be for all beings in transition.

*****

We drive to the airport, exchanging reflections of gratitude and awe. My fellow yogi was sitting to my left the whole time in the meditation hall, offering silent support, humor when sharing, and now a gentle ride into an unknown future.

Husband and daughter pick me up from Oakland Airport. They are always there when I need love, when I need to learn. Their eyes, their smiles say it all.

Welcome home.

Don't Believe...

4/7/2018

At SFO, prior to boarding the plane for Japan, I heard a strange voice. “Don’t believe anything you see or hear. Look and listen for connection. That is all.”

The voice sounded wise, profound. I’ve learned by now not to question its authenticity or figure out where it came from. In time, I would understand.

*****

In Japan, I experienced an explosion of sense pleasures. The rainbow colors and taste offerings at breakfast: wakame seaweed salad with lotus root and sesame dressing, alternating miso, corn, or pumpkin soup, scrambled eggs, choice of croissant, pecan, or cinnamon danish, veggies, and a several tea options. Lunch and dinner would involve savory ramen or udon noodles, crisp, tasty tempura, or a choice of yummy Italian, Mexican, Thai, or Indian cuisines. A few nights I simply had to turn the family down for dinner because my pants grew too tight and my stomach felt like a bowling ball!

The natural beauty, grace, and order to some sites was simply overwhelming at times. Sensual pink and white cherry blossoms in full bloom. Sacred temples and shrines that secretly knew how to tame their surroundings through rock gardens, bamboo groves, and silent Zen koans. A sand bar bridge connecting heaven to earth, and an orange partially submerged Great Torii Gate rising out of the wisdom in waves against a backdrop of lush green hills.

After reading the first chapter in Ajahn Sucitto's "Paramis, Ways To Cross Life's Floods" on the four types of floods, I reflected and reframed my experience in Japan. What part of the trip was I not swept away in the flood of sensual pleasures, the flood of becoming (personal identity and time), the flood of views (I’m right, you’re wrong), or the flood of ignorance (not seeing things as they are)?

A few memorable experiences stood out. Standing at a train station in Tokyo waiting for a train bound for Kyoto, I noticed a man with a towel over his head crouching on the ground near his briefcase, eyelids closed with the weight of possible illness or job stress. This heart-mind began to practice on the spot Tonglen for him.

At Entokuin temple in Kyoto, I experienced the division of self and other melting into the green tea, the tea room structure, and the gardens around us. I didn’t even know the woman performing the tea ceremony, but in that moment, she was mother, daughter, sister, partner, friend, the soil underneath us, the breath between us.

Perhaps the most profound experience on this whole trip began at the A-bomb dome in Hiroshima. After seeing the building, it was as if another bomb of compassion blasted this heart-mind wide open. I could hear the cries of voices from the past, feel bodies burning. The experience was so intense, that I had to separate from the family and release some tears. After some time, it felt symbolic to ring the crane bell of peace at the Children’s Memorial. Closing the eyes and allowing the sound to reverberate through the body, I hoped the sound of suffering and possibility for peace could be felt around the world.

*****

“Don’t believe anything you see or hear. Look and listen for connection. That is all.”

Their is nothing wrong with enjoying sense pleasures, wanting to be someone, or having a certain view. Suffering arises when these floods lead to unwholesome disconnection instead of wholesome connection.

I may forget the smell and taste of certain foods, how certain sights looked or felt, but the man at the station, the woman performing the tea ceremony, the victims of the A-bomb at Hiroshima, will stay in this heart-mind long after the body is gone.

The Hole: Reflecting on Cittabhavana

3/3/2018

Go ahead. Fall into that hole. We all do, sometimes repeatedly. Walk the path, right over the leaves and sticks that hide the ditch, false ground made of desire, aversion, delusion.

It’s cold down there, darkness all around you, walls closing in. There’s no room to move, to breathe. How did you get here?

Suddenly, that shiny object of desire, this other place that promised paradise when you were averse to Here, the delusion of something better, feels isolating. It’s not so special anymore.

What if cittabhavana is possible, the luminous nature of mindheart unclouded by mental defilements? Is it worth climbing out of the ditch to walk with awareness, to celebrate the transition from ignorance to freedom?

I don’t care if you fell. I’ve fallen, too. I’m so done with hiding in that pit. I want to feel sunlight on my face, rain washing away old perceptions of self.

Reflecting on the trench’s discomfort and what supported the way out, let’s catch glimpses of cittabhavana, our capacity for clear seeing, beauty, and joy. Let’s walk together.

We’ll fall again. Faith is trusting that one of us will discover the hole is a trap, a false refuge, holding a hand out to the other so we both take one step closer to Home.

Questioning the Gift of Presents (Presence)

12/17/2017

With Christmas just around the corner, a question I’m often asked is, “Are you ready for the holidays?". Listening to others’ plans, I hear the following questions beneath this question. “Are the Christmas lights and stockings up? Is the tree dressed in its finest, proud of the presents below it? Will there be gingerbread baking in the oven, along with a perfectly planned holiday meal? Does the family look happy in the Christmas card photos? If not, should you take another picture?”

Though I appreciate the genuine warmth and curiosity behind this question, I can’t help but wonder. How long did you stand in line at the mall, how much did you spend online to get the last version of the latest (fill in the blank) so he or she can unwrap happiness? The tree sure looks pretty, but did you ever stop to appreciate its natural beauty out in the wild? Does it bother you that it’s dying, that it cannot live off artificial lights, that it might miss the exchange of carbon dioxide for oxygen? Will you taste and enjoy the food you are about to prepare? Or is it all for show? What if someone isn’t smiling in the picture, the lighting is off, or you look older than you should? Is it still ok to send the cards out?

Reflecting on generosity, the question for me isn’t how much, but why. It’s not how much money I spend, the time it takes to cook, bake, or make something, but why I am giving it. What is my intention? Can the one receiving the gift feel my care? How well do I know them? What do I want them to know about me?

Tomorrow may never come. One day you and I will both die. This is for certain. It is only a matter of when. We don’t need a terminal diagnosis to wake up to this truth.

I want to know how it is for you. I want you to know how it is for me. This presence is the greatest present I could ever give or receive.

(This post may impact you negatively. Please know that I am not against holiday traditions, but questioning their authenticity. The invitation is to look beneath the surface of appearances and connect from the heart.

May you and yours celebrate Christmas joyfully. May you be happy, warm, and safe. May you experience a deep and profound sense of peace.)

Reflections on Wise Effort

9/9/2017

Wave of Creativity by Susan Card

She shares some apprehension she’s feeling about an upcoming math test. I try to listen and let her know the final grade doesn’t matter. What matters most is her preparation for the test. If she comes back with a D, then it’s important to reflect on how this happened, and ultimately connect with us (her parents) for support and guidance.

Before I can complete my thoughts and communicate them with our daughter, my husband interrupts with his point of view. Suddenly, I lose track of where I am and what I’m doing, and feel waves of anger and hurt rise and fall in succession with no safe harbor to break against. It’s tempting to redirect this internal discomfort towards him, but I know from past experience it will only increase the height, force, and impact of the waves. I say nothing.

After the waves have surrendered to a gentle, rhythmic ebb and flow, curious and ready to connect with the shores of my husband’s experience (and share my own), I check in with him. There is a willingness to recede if he isn’t ready. The conversation flows well, and it feels as if two islands have made conscious contact through the wisdom in waves.

*****

My dear friend from college and I are sharing a room at a hotel for a medical conference. She needs to leave early one morning to drive back home for her son’s soccer game. I’m awake before her alarm goes off in worried anticipation of how this will affect my sleep. It’s not her fault.

I immediately notice the jackhammer sensations in my temples and throbbing behind my eyes. I try to go back to sleep and manage to rest a few hours before getting up. But the damn tension headache is still there! Infusing the breath with kindness, respect, and forgiveness for a mind that generates anxious thoughts and joyful ones, I gently bathe the pounding sensations in loving awareness and even massage them physically. The pulsations are still there, but I am no longer angry, surprised, or disappointed.

*****

Wise effort isn’t about having every conversation go well, or sleeping peacefully each night (though I still have a secret attachment to these outcomes:) It’s about weaving my wholesome intentions into the fabric of a larger universal design I cannot see. I need to trust that more and more of the design will be revealed when I am ready to learn and understand.

Wise effort is also supported by intentionally taking in the good. Psychologist, author, and teacher Rick Hanson says, “In effect, the brain is like Velcro for negative experiences, but Teflon for positive ones. That shades “implicit memory” – your underlying expectations, beliefs, action strategies, and mood – in an increasingly negative direction.” It’s important to balance the negativity bias with joy. Here are some of Dr. Hanson’s suggestions on how to do this.

May we weave our wise efforts into the universal fabric of life, detaching from outcome as best as we can. May we incline our minds towards wholesome states of being and loving one another.

Thank you, Dear Ones in my life for being my greatest teachers!

The Coin in Your Pocket

5/27/2017

The sunny side of the heart
is where we all want to live,
avoiding the shadow at any cost,
the chill of loss and loneliness
that lingers like thick fog.

What if true wealth
is not in the address
or the ratio of good to bad,
but the coin in your pocket,
with heads for joy
and tails for compassion?

May compassion transform pain
into the possibility of freedom,
understanding that a moment’s
richness was never dependent
on an external sun.

It’s the 7th straight day of waking up with a headache and some heartburn. What the hell is going on? Am I sleeping enough? Am I eating too much? Maybe it’s something on the taboo list. Too much chocolate? Am I worried about something? I thought the homeopathic remedy was working. Maybe I need another dose. What’s wrong with me???

As a physician, it’s easy for me to quickly analyze symptoms, form hypotheses for possible causes, and rule out conditions that don’t fit the diagnosis of what I am experiencing. It’s how I was trained. Western medicine is great for this kind of flawless, clear cut analysis. But is it so flawless and clear cut? And does this help a human like me with real fear and personal judgements about what’s going on?

In working with patients, I’m finding that astute clinical acumen is not as important as the ability to listen and appreciate their stories. A patient naturally wants an accurate diagnosis and therapy that will help them feel better. But the fears they share, the self-judgements that add layers to their suffering, aren’t easily alleviated with a quick prescription.

As humans, we desire security, satiety, sanity (and so much more). We want to live on the sunny side of the heart, avoiding illness, aging, loss, all dissatisfaction at any cost. I am no exception. I’d rather wake up with a clear head and belly ready to digest anything that comes my way with ease.

The thinking mind is helpful if it’s willing to ask wise discerning questions with curiosity and kindness, patient for the answers that come. It’s not helpful when the mind acts like a merciless lawyer interrogating me on the witness stand for a crime I didn’t commit.

What if the true wealth of this world, this life is not in the address of where you’d like to live, who you should be, or the ratio of good to bad moments? What if the coin in your pocket has joy on one side and compassion on the other side? Joy typically isn’t a problem for most of us. It’s the shadow side, the challenges in our lives that ask for compassionate attention.

We crave for things to be a certain way, cling to certain ideals. When we get what we don’t want, or push away things as they are, the heart space is filled with struggle. Only compassion can transform this pain into freedom. We don’t have to like what is happening. We do need to love the life that is being affected by the struggle. When we understand that a moment’s richness is never dependent on an external promise of happiness, we begin to trust our internal capacity to simply bear witness.

*****

It’s the 7th straight day of waking up with a headache and some heartburn. What the hell is going on? Before I pop an Advil or Zantac to prematurely block the inquiry, I sit still. Question marks and exclamation points float like balloons through this sky mind. Placing a hand on my heart, I breathe till the breath is not so constricted by fear and the judgments that follow. I feel compassionate presence growing stronger.

Though I’d rather celebrate a moment of pure joy, the realization slowly comes like a good friend tapping my shoulder to point out something I’ve missed. Among the question marks and exclamation points, images of Padmapani and lotus hearts begin to emerge.

*****

When our thoughts are stuck on the spin cycle of Samsara, we can press the pause button and use a different washer to purify these thoughts. Before we place the laundry coin in, we can notice how compassion and joy are two sides of the same coin, this vast heart that has space for it all. Welcome or not, each moment has the potential for full engagement, because of the coin in your pocket.

(Note: This reflection is not meant to minimize or gloss over the intense suffering that comes with chronic illness, loss, social unrest, environmental degradation, etc. It’s an invitation to explore the smaller inconveniences in life, to cultivate a compassionate presence that stays when the larger waves hit, to appreciate the flip of compassion to joy, and back to compassion, depending on what each moment requires. May the benefits of this inquiry be shared by all beings everywhere without exception.

If this reflection is not helpful, let it pass in the sky mind till images that are useful to you appear. May your spiritual thirst for freedom lead you to your own fountain of meaning.)

Padmapani by Vijaya

An Artist's Way (Love Always Wins)

12/3/2016

skyfire rising
from cobalt waters
the day not yet defined
dancing into possibility

My favorite time of day is sunrise when skyfire rises from cobalt waters, when the day is not yet defined. Crossing Dumbarton Bridge some days to work, the chatterbox mind pauses for a few moments as the idea of 'I' melts into the majestic scene before me.

If I could, I would find some place to park, bust out a yoga mat for some sun salutations, and praise the sun for its warmth and light. All ideas of mother, wife, daughter, sister, healer, poet, meditator, would burn in skyfire as a new Phoenix rises from the ashes of old selves.

****

The following art piece was created from a dream I recently had about a whale. The whale frequently breached, reminding me that even though I have so much subconscious anxiety, I am gently being guided by a mysterious, benevolent force in my conscious life. I don't have to know the exact details of the future. I can rest in the present moment.

****

From the moment we wake up, most of us speed through our day with little time to pause. What would it be like to shed all preconceived notions of who we are, to dance into the possibility of wonder, to believe that life gives us exactly what we need in each moment?

****

After a long day at work, I'm looking forward to dinner with my family at a favorite Mexican restaurant. I'm not ready for the motorcyclist who ploughs into my rear end. As I step out of the car, the guy is lying on the ground in a daze next to a heap of twisted metal. My immediate reaction is not concern for his wellbeing, but a cold furry that chills me more than the evening temperature.

What the hell is wrong with you??? Can't you see I was clearly at a standstill in front of you? I just got my car washed. Now I'm going to have to deal with the headache of insurance reporting, repairs, etc. I don't have time for this bullshit!!!

Ashamed of my internal reaction, I can't help my thoughts or the physical sensations of feeling stuck in a moment I can't escape. The peaceful experiences of witnessing the sunrise and creating the glass art seem so far away. We eventually exchange information in the presence of a police officer and he apologizes for the accident. All I can manage are a few insincere words. “I hope you are ok.”

Am I gently being guided by a mysterious, benevolent force in my conscious life? Don't I have to know the exact details of the future? Can I rest in the present moment? Am I given exactly what I need in each moment?

****

Clarissa Pinkola Estes writes, “To display the lantern of soul in shadowy times like these - to be fierce and to show mercy toward others; both are acts of immense bravery and greatest necessity."

I pause and allow the thoughts manifested as anger, fear, and disappointment to run through me like wild stallions. I forgive them, and ask what would be the exact opposite of scolding naughty children? Placing a hand on my belly and heart, I picture the injured motorcyclist next to his nonfunctional bike and accept his sincere apology. I send metta and thank him for the unexpected opportunity to practice mindfulness and compassion. I even text him to see how he is doing and offer medical advice for his twisted ankle.

****

We don't know what each day will bring. Some experiences will be pleasant while others are clearly unpleasant. May we create space for them all, dancing into the possibility of love in all its forms, trusting that love always wins.

Reflections from a Metta Retreat

12/7/2015

Image courtesy MelGrossArt

Waking Up

It’s day 3 of the metta retreat. I’m still waiting for my heart to open. Instead of feeling love, I’m feeling quite drowsy. Who came up with the wake up time of 5:45am anyway? I insist on waking up at 5am to shower and practice some yoga before Qigong at 6:15am. You think that’s contributing to my sluggishness? My body feels like it’s just been hit by a Mack truck. Maybe I need an ambulance instead of meditation. My limbs feel like the silver noodles we had for dinner last night.

As I enter the meditation hall, I’m disappointed to see the same Qigong teacher we had yesterday. Dressed all in black with a slow, deliberate and deep voice, he reminds me of Morpheus from The Matrix. I can’t unplug unless I leave the meditation hall. Where’s that female yoga teacher who weaves poetry and the Sacred Feminine into postures I like, postures I can relate to? I suddenly miss her like I miss my masseuse. If she were here, I wouldn’t be sleepy, bored, tired, angry, irritable…you get the picture. I’d be a Sacred Feminine goddess feeling the elements of earth, air, fire and water move through me.

But she isn’t here, and I’m still feeling crappy. By the second sit of the day, I’m still waiting for the lovingkindness phrases to sink in, to grow wildflowers in this parched desert of a heart. It feels like my heart is encased in dry earth. Nothing is going to penetrate this. Or is it?

Last night at the Dharma talk, a teacher said it took him two and a half months to feel his heart open on a three month retreat. Holy cow! Help me do the math here. This retreat is only a week long. I have four more days to irrigate this heart. California is already experiencing a drought. Where’s the rain?

As I walk in the upper meditation hall, I pause at the window. It’s drizzling outside – gently, tenderly. I place both hands on my heart, waiting for the wildflowers that bloom in words.

May I be wide awake.
May I forgive the drowsiness.

My own tears stream down windowpane cheeks. The rain, the tears are just enough. They won’t end the drought, the years of unmet expectations caked in layers of dust around this heart. But these wildflower words are a beautiful beginning to one woman waking up, to yogis waking up together.

May we all be wide awake. May we forgive the ignorance.

(The Qigong teacher has nestled his way into the soft folds of my heart. He isn’t a yoga teacher; he is a Qigong Master and so much more.)

Balancing the Scales (Day 5)

My heart is a lighthouse sweeping the open waters for lost ships beaten and broken by tides of experience.

My heart is also a joyful artist: singing, dancing, writing to celebrate life – the lopsided crescent moon smiling in darkness whether the sunrise is visible or not.

I usually notice what’s missing first, a flaw in the design. It’s common with aversive types. It’s not my fault. It stems from past conditioning, and I know others experience this, too.

I’ve spent years strengthening the heart chamber of compassion, while the heart chamber of joy has atrophied a bit. But life is a coin with two sides. You never know what you will get in any given moment – heads or tails, joy or sadness. To balance the scales, we must learn to recognize which moments ask for our compassion, a steadfast lighthouse sweeping the open waters for lost ships beaten and broken by tides of experience. Other moments require us to celebrate life, to be the lopsided crescent moon smiling in darkness whether the sunrise is visible or not.

Life is a dance between karuna and mudita. May we allow the slow, sorrowful songs and upbeat tunes move us in equal measure.

Radiance (Day 6-7)

During a guided meditation, we were invited to send metta to all beings. Tibetan singing bowls were used to create sound spaciousness, to dissolve the barriers around our bodies and hearts.

I visualized my womb giving birth to all beings, and all beings returning to this womb upon their death. I thought of the Isil terrorist attack in Paris. Voices began to emerge.

Allah sees us.
Can you see us?
If you really saw us,
would you still harm us?

I thought of animal poachers and mindless construction in protected natural settings.

Our mother sees us.
Can you see us?
If you really saw us,
would you still harm us?

I thought of irritable beings in my life. One by one, I thought of someone who might love them: a spiritual being, a relative, a friend.

The Beloved sees me.
Can you see me?
If you really saw me,
would you still harm me?

I may not love everyone. Even the contemplation is a tall order. Forgiveness does not condone acts of harm. We can still work to protect all life (including our own) through skillful means. Forgiveness is an invitation to lay down our weapons, to dissolve the protective armoring encasing our hearts.

Lay down your weapons.
I didn’t come here to fight.
I came to witness the unveiling of your heart,
A radiant jewel reflecting your True Nature-
The nature of all life.
The heart’s radiance is its own protection.

May we connect with our hearts. May we rest in this place.