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.

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.)

(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.

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!

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.
​

*****
​
“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.

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.

What if all desire
soft-petaled, rose-scented
all aversion
pointed porcupine quills
were seen, heard, felt, known?
Would delusion still exist?
Could speech and action 
be motivated by something 
larger than the kilesas?
What kind of world do you want?
History starts now...
 
 
Behind every word, every action, there is a seed of intention, a motivation fueled by desire and/or aversion that that leads to the delusion of real connection. What do I want from you? How are you pissing me off? The subject of relational awareness is quite juicy, quite messy this way.
 
In Don’t Look Down on the Defilements, They Will Laugh at You, Sayadaw U Tejaniya writes, “Every intention comes with a motivation. Most motivations are defilements. Only if you fully recognize and understand defilements, wisdom will arise. Now wisdom will motivate your intentions.”
 
I notice in personal and not so personal relationships that there is often a soft-petaled desire for connection with others. It’s fascinating how much I will alter reality for a hit of rose-scented sweetness high. If you display any pointed porcupine quills in speech or action, you are the ultimate enemy. Get away! A temporary lapse of consciousness takes hold. I’ve never hurt anyone in my life.
 
What if I pause for one minute, one breath (and hopefully longer) to notice, name, and feel the contours of soft-petaled and pointed, their cumulative effects on the heart? Would delusion still exist? “Throughout our life we habitually seek and grasp. To sit back and just watch this happening is difficult. However, this sitting back and just watching is essential to become able to see and understand these habits.”
 
Speech and action can be motivated by something larger than the kilesas. Seeds of loving intention can be planted in the most arid desert or rugged terrain. The heart can bloom from any seed, regardless of fertile soil or fair weather. I have seen this happen, felt the ineffable peace of bodhichitta temporarily free of the kilesas. The connection with self and other is real, transcending the idea of you and me as separate beings. There is an energetic field of safe, loving awareness inviting all beings to enter sacred space. Don’t take my word for it. Come see for yourself. 
 
“You will be happier and get on more harmoniously with other people if you are clearly aware of whatever you do, wherever you are. This only comes easily when there is sustained momentum in the practice; it only becomes possible when there is natural awareness, when awareness becomes second nature.”
 
May we create space in our own hearts to belong, opening the heart door to others.
 
What kind of world do you want? History starts now...
 
​Notes:

Kilesas – The defilements. Greed, hatred, and delusion.
“Trying to create something is greed.
Rejecting what is happening is aversion.
Not knowing if something is happening or has stopped happening is delusion.”

Bodhichitta – The awakened mindheart. “The soft spot, a place as vulnerable and tender as an open wound. It is equated, in part, with our ability to love. Bodhichitta is also equated, in part, with compassion—our ability to feel the pain that we share with others.”