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.