Category: True Nature - Wisdom in Waves

True Nature as Mother Nature

3/18/2019

What is True Nature? The inquiry sits in the belly of meditating outdoors. A ravenous hunger to know, not with the intellect, but with an intuition older than her years.

A chorus of birdsong inspires the use of voice to its maximal potential. Speak, sing, write your truth. Do not be afraid of criticism, laughter, misunderstanding. Nobody can see you inside, hear the beat of your heart like you do.

The distant sound of an airplane is perceived followed by a passing car. Are the sounds in sequence, simultaneous? Mind wants to know. Body and breath soothe the need to get somewhere. You are here right now earth child. Please stay, so you can remember stillness when others (including you) are restless.

Breathing in, breathing out. The remembrance of so many trees accompanying the hike up to the Arbolejo overlook making space for a being learning to root in each moment, exchanging carbon dioxide wounding from others for life giving awareness and healing.

But wait! This isn’t mindfulness meditation, bare attention, mental noting. Familiar whispers of doubt, of formal education, past conditioning compete for attention. It’s the only way to be heard. You only graduate if you learn it a certain way.

Eyes gently open to a panorama of sky blue and forest green. This isn’t mindfulness meditation. It’s mindful Mother Nature meditation moving into Qigong under a warm diamond sun inspiring this Aires fire to burn with metta and passion.

Ehipassiko.

Buddha speaks through the voice of the Sacred Feminine: through Earth Mother, through DoriMa, through Aishin.

This Dhamma door is always open. Will you walk through it?

Challenging Comparing Mind

3/2/2019

stitched into the fabric of life
some of us towards the center
while others are at the periphery
does placement even matter

intricate patterns woven
from colorful threads
with large swaths of
dull gray in between

i am cold without this quilt
without all beings
believing they belong
regardless of perception

Stitched into the fabric of life, I believe I am at the center when a lecture, talk, or class goes well. When I’m healthy and can breathe, talk, sing for long periods of time. When I can do all the poses in yoga class. When my hair is newly cut and colored. When I’m dressed a certain way. When I have the perfect answer for patients and friends struggling. When my daughter is open to affection and animated in conversation. When my partner understands and applauds my spiritual practice and professional life. When I feel closely connected to Mummy and less irritated. When I write a meaningful poem and blog post. And so much more.

Anything short of this is failure, unpleasant, unacceptable, a problem that triggers banishment from the center to the periphery. Does placement even matter?

Sometimes I see myself in intricate patterns woven from colorful threads. Sometimes I’m surrounded by large swaths of dull gray, an island far away from any vibrancy. Comparing mind also stiches others into fixed positions on this quilt.

As hard as these last few weeks have felt with unwelcome physical symptoms, fear of permanence is worse. A self who will not channel talks with any compassionate healing or creativity. A self who will not survive and enjoy a women’s retreat on the ecstasy of sound and silence. A self who will not sing and sound a certain way again. A self who will not enjoy and embody yoga. I feel a gentle warmth blanketing body and breath with mettā (lovingkindness), karuṇā (compassion), khanti (patience), paññā (wisdom), and saddhā (faith).

i am cold without this quilt, without all beings believing they belong regardless of perception.

Mindfulness in Motion: Coming Home

2/6/2019

The sound of driving
Images through the windshield
The mind wanders
But awareness knows
The way back to freedom
Pausing
Between the seen, the heard
Before a response is rendered
It’s ok sweetheart
Welcome home again
Imagine greeting others this way
What the world would be like
If we could all return to this moment
From wherever we are

Everything that enters through the sense doors of sight, sound, taste, smell, touch, even a thought, is based on causes, conditions, influences, and beliefs. Yet we believe everything we see, everything we hear as if it were the ultimate truth: a Facebook story with stunning pictures and the promise of bliss, circulating gossip at work and social gatherings, our loved ones’ outbursts, among other things.

Will we experience the same bliss if we dress similarly and visit the same places as our Facebook friends? Is the circulating gossip confirmed by our clarification first hand with those involved in the story? Do our loved ones really mean what they are saying in the heat of anger and irritation?

As I was driving to work one day, sounds of tires rolling, wind blowing, sights of other cars on the road and views of the bay were all perceived through the sense doors. For a few brief moments, bare attention was sustained on these sights and sounds. Soon the mind wandered, but awareness knew the way back to freedom.

Truth and safety can only be found in this moment, when we ask ourselves, “What is actually happening right now? Am I seeing clearly, or is my perception affected by tinted glasses?” When I pause between the seen, the heard, before I react and say or do something I’ll later regret based on misperceptions, there is a space. In that space lies the choice to sew seeds of greed, hatred and delusion, or generosity, kindness, and wisdom.

Before a response is rendered, we can give overwhelming thoughts, feelings, and sensations space to play themselves out in the body. Rilke said, “Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.” Maybe ‘just keep breathing’ would be more helpful in this context. It doesn’t matter how many times we have left this moment. It is there to greet all prodigal daughters and sons with open arms.

It’s ok sweetheart
Welcome home again

In that welcome, we can be thoroughly nourished and resourced, returning again and again for the promise of true freedom.

*****

What started as a practice in stress reduction over twelve years ago has now taken on a relational quality and meaning for me. The more I return to present moment awareness and question what enters the sense doors, the more I understand about karmic potential. For me, mindfulness isn’t just about sitting on the cushion for temporary peace. It’s learning to greet others with the same Namaste that each moment greets me.

Imagine what the world would be like if we could all return to this moment from wherever we are.

From Ego I to Elemental i

12/23/2018

The email subject line announces the release of this quarter’s publication. It’s finally here! After one and a half months of anticipation, I wonder how the article on diversity and inclusivity in healthcare will land on colleagues.

Will they comment on the compassion, insightfulness, or skill of writing? Will they see me in a different light, beyond the part time family physician who doesn’t ‘work as hard’ as others? Will they appreciate the need for diversity and inclusivity awareness? Will they feel inspired to learn and implement some of the suggestions?

Holding my breath, I close the email. There are patients to see, an electronic medical record inbox to attend to. The thoughts almost lift me off the chair, out of the body and to another place far from here.

Earth to Kaveri. Feel your feet on the ground, sits bones on the chair, breath moving through you. You have work to do. The email can wait.

*****

After the dinner dishes have been rinsed, the dishwasher loaded, the family immersed in their evening rituals, I click on the email that links to the newsletter. Scrolling the contents, the heart sinks when I find my article towards the end of the publication, confined to one page, a majority of the original content missing.

What the hell! is my first reaction. I feel like someone has just taken away a prize I never won and stripped me of all false pretensions. Feeling angry, hurt, and exposed, who am I right now? The beautiful writer whose article didn’t make the front cover? The kind, mindful physician who is really an imposter?

There is a strong urge to email the editor with these woes. Excuse me. There’s been a terrible mistake. But something inside encourages connection to the earth for grounding, awareness of breath to notice the subtle transition between stillness and movement, a warmth in the heart to encourage gentleness, and remembrance of the body as 60% water. Water takes on the shape of any container it fills. Can I take on the shape of this moment?

*****

Like inflated balloons being twisted and shaped by a clown at a children’s party, I wonder how many selves were created between writing the article, waiting for its release, and watching for impact. Judgments begin to arise. Hasn’t DPP6 taught you anything by now? There are only 4 months left in the program. Better figure it out soon! The midback tightens where the stone of shame is carried on the shadow side of the heart.

In meditation, compassion and humor are also present, gently popping the inflated balloon selves with pinpoint precision. Awww, Sweetie. Of course these balloons were present. Past karma, causes and conditions. The balloons are pretty frickin’ hilarious, aren’t they? Feel free to cry, laugh, or do both. It’s all welcome here. Metta fire from the heart holds the shadow side in loving awareness.

*****

An email is composed to the editor, thanking them for inclusion of the article in this quarter’s publication. An inquiry is made about changes to the article from its original content. The email ends with metta blessings for the holidays. Another email is received from the CEO of our organization expressing appreciation for the article.

Regardless of the number of painful ‘ego I’ deaths occurring with this experience, the emergence of ‘elemental i’ is totally worth it.

Grounded in Earth.
Breath sensing the subtle transition between stillness and movement.
Metta fire to encourage gentleness.
Body as 60% water, taking on the shape of this moment.

Not self, infinite space holding all of life’s dramas. An open heart learning to love what is real.

*****

(Come explore ego I and elemental i through meditation and reflective journaling. For information click here.)

Sea Shell Self

11/24/2018

Born into this moment,
each breath is a wave
erasing past selves carved in sand.
Still, I try to build
a grand sandcastle of ego
further inland for protection,
till the sea swallows it whole
into a belly of no becoming.
Birthed again from the womb
of wholesome intentions,
returning as a song that leaves its shell
to join the collective chorus for peace.

Each moment I am born into a new molecular configuration, erasing past selves carved in sand. This is a blessing and a curse. A blessing in that the slate of deficiencies can easily be erased. A curse in that even a grand sandcastle of ego built further inland for protection is defenseless against the sea.

Who am I trying to be? An acclaimed poet/writer? A popular family physician with good reviews? A mindful, compassionate mother? A wise meditator? A sacred feminine conduit with direct access to the Great Mother? An expert on diversity and inclusivity?

Who am I trying to run away from? The ideal housewife and daughter? The productive physician? The body that can be in better shape as evidence by certain chronic conditions? The anxious one? The mother who failed? The callous one?

Just typing all these selves makes my head spin. It’s like strolling through an open bazaar with a new outfit in mind. The vendors come at me from all directions displaying their colorful wares. “This is an exclusive dress. Hand stitched. Best price in town. You won’t find it anywhere else.”

Who ever said I was for sale??

I’m tired of trying to be someone. Trying to impress. Trying to build a sandcastle of ego that will last.

Let the sea swallow me whole into a belly of no becoming. Birthed again from the womb of wholesome intentions, may i connect, create, have compassion for a larger sphere than this small sense of self.

May i return as a song that leaves its shell to join the collective chorus for peace. This eternal song of generosity, wisdom, kindness, patience, determination, joy, compassion, mindfulness, and faith has no name. It doesn’t belong to anyone.

And it can still be shared.

Love and Ego at the Center

6/28/2018

What she said, what she did really pissed me off. The precept, ‘knowing that our lives intertwine, I vow to speak only what it true, useful and kind‘ felt like a distant memory. Years of painful conditioning begged for release. I wanted to hurt her.

What I really wanted was for her to be conscious, for intimacy in this relationship to be built on something stronger than the ego.

*****

In The Yoga of Relationship, Phillip Moffitt describes three types of relationships: ego at the center, love and ego at the center, and love at the center. Though the model describes romantic relationships, I see how it applies to all relationships – family, friends, coworkers, neighbors, challenging folks, EVERYONE.

I immediately recognize the first type of relationship with this being. For years, the heart has diligently practiced metta for her. I know she is overwhelmed by insecurity, her actions inspired by the promise of ego belonging. It’s why we collide like asteroids so many times, instead of orbiting each other’s celestial being in awe.

May you feel a sense of belonging without the need to criticize others.

I yearn for the second type of relationship where love is also brought into the center with ego. For years, the heart has also practiced metta for this writer. I want to move beyond sense doors that trigger past hurt – sights and sounds that constrict the heart to hurt more and love less.

May I speak my truth with kindness.

“When love and ego are at the center, you are not abandoning or martyring yourself. Instead, you are giving up certain expectations, which means that your relationship to the energy of love is not dependent on your partner (or other being).”

Can I appreciate this being’s cycle of dependent origination causing her to connect mainly through comparison over compassion? Can I renounce certain expectations, so that my relationship to love is not dependent on her? Can this relationship be built on Metta (lovingkindness), Karuna (compassion), Mudita (joy), Upekkha (equanimity), where the heart is not just a welcome doormat easily stepped on, but a heavenly abode that opens to love’s possibility when feeling resourced and safe?

*****

What she said, what she did still pisses me off. The hurt is less. Wanting her to be more conscious, I turn inward, asking citta (heart-mind) for intimacy in this relationship to be built on something stronger than the ego, for the Brahmaviharas to hold us both.

(May the benefits of this practice be shared by all beings who struggle in relationship, all beings yearning for conscious connection.)

Metta for the Aspiring One

6/13/2018

May i be patient with who I’ve always wanted to be
and love who i already am,
be gentle with raised shoulders and tense belly,
diaphragm a little stuck
so that perfect note in singing is never sustained,
the lap across the pool only halfway.
May I rise from early morning dreams of doubt
with tenderness, with pause,
Rumi’s fingers on the brow, inscriptions on the heart
for the breezes at dawn that have secrets to tell me
asking for what i really want,
making my way to the bathroom mirror
greeted by crooked windows,
right eye higher than the left,
forecasting a day with a best friend
or constant critic.
May I read the poetry of Billy Collins, Mary Oliver,
the Sufi poets with wonder,
and feel kinship over competition,
see life’s pages larger than a book
with room for only rave reviews.
May I respect the healer who holds space for others
and sometimes runs away,
the mother who is a safe harbor
and the tsunami that destroys it,
the lover who builds communication bridges
and clings to one side, assuming she is right.
May zafu and yoga mat hold this confused being
till all the tears have fallen,
and clenched fists open in surrender
to all I’ve ever wanted to be,
to the one sitting all these years,
the aspiring one who already is.

(May i rest before the next I says hello
Asking why i am not ready…)

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.

Circle of Generosity

5/24/2018

(inspired by DoriMa and DPP6 Sangha)

Sometimes i’m in the center
not as royalty, dictator, enlightened
but a resourced being offering
what she can to satellites orbiting
her sphere of influence.

Sometimes i’m at the periphery
lost in space, floating along
longing for the gravitational pull
of a generous planet guiding me back
to a system that feels like home.

We take turns giving and receiving
moving in, reaching out
circling the space to experience
the full spectrum of darkness, light
and some place in between.

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.