Buoyancy…

Life is full of surprises. Two days after we returned from Cancun, I tested positive for Covid. My symptoms have been more akin to a mild cold, and of course when you have a cold, you feel crummy, you try to take it easy and you drink lots of hot tea… It does mean that I have not stepped outside my home in about 6 days. My family has been so wonderful – while I isolate the best I can. Anji especially, who worried so much about Covid wearing her mask the entire time until recently, has been so caring and relaxed. We are all getting through it together. One day at a time.

I have been thinking of the word Buoyancy this week. Strange, isn’t it, to be thinking of this particular word at this particular time? Well, one reason I have been thinking of this word is that one of the particularly strong memories from my trip to Cancun was watching pelicans on the beach. Pelicans would soar, glide, ride the wind and then plummet into the water, landing gracefully into a swim. I watched many of these beautiful birds, took many photos and videos though they don’t do much justice to the beauty of the moments.

One of the words Pelicans stand for is buoyancy (and also cooperation) as per Ted Andrews, whose book Animal Speak is usually by my bedside! Which is really not a surprise when you watch these beings. Especially during the last couple of days before we left when there were heavy winds on the beach, you could really see how the pelicans glided on them, buoyantly, gracefully, effortlessly. They remind me that it is possible to ride the changes in our lives with buoyancy. It is possible to show up to this moment with an open heart and accept whatever comes along. It doesn’t mean that I have not had moments of stress or anxiety. Of course I have. It has been possible to meet them – the fear, the uncertainty, the worry with equanimity and compassion. This too belongs. Even in the midst of challenges, awe and beauty is present. And tenderness. For me tenderness is intimately connected to buoyancy, thanks to Rumi:

Feel the motions of tenderness around you. the buoyancy.

-Rumi

Peace is possible. So this new year, I wish you all a happy, healthy, easeful year with freedom and peace! To feel the motions of tenderness around you. Please accept this guided meditation from me as a gift, on setting intentions for this year, recorded on New Year’s day when a small group of us gathered to meditate together. Take care and be well!

With love,

S.

I am here…

I am back from a week away at Cancun, Mexico. Blue waters and sun-kissed sands… the sound of the ocean is so healing! And during this week, my practice was returning over and over to the mantra: I am HERE. 

Photo of sunrise taken on Solstice morning 12/21/22 in Cancun, Mexico.

Here is the word buddhist teacher Gil Fronsdal offers for the first of seven factors of awakening that support the path of awakening and freedom. Coming back to Here for me was sensing the sand under my toes, the sounds of the rise and fall of ocean waves, seeing the blue of the ocean and watching the pelicans glide the wind, dive down into the waters and swim, so seemingly effortlessly! It was feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin, tasting the tapioca pudding for breakfast, smelling the salty air and the receiving the water washing my toes as I stood on the beach. Here. 

Returning and sustaining our attention on the sensations of the present moment helps us stay grounded with change, and attend to our inner needs in a kind way and attune to the needs of others by reading their body language. Here allows wisdom to unfold in a way that feels so organic, tender and natural. Every time our attention wanders and we notice IS an opportunity to return Here. Here is laughter, ease, contentment, joy, bliss, awe, solitude, companionship and most of all: riding the waves of change with ease.

In his book Neurodharma, Rick Hansen talks about having a positive experience, enriching it and absorbing it so that it becomes an implicit memory and is more readily available during moments of stress. Perhaps, savoring the experiences of this past week by feeling them in my body and noticing the moments of ease, connection and beauty, I have deepened my own sense of well-being. This morning waking up without ocean sounds, I could remember them, recollect how they felt in my body and relax. And return to the Here now.

I am home now – in my daughter’s room as I listen to piano sounds wafting up from her playing Silent Night. Here is silent. No ocean waves. Here is wonderful! 

Are you Here? Take a few moments to sense your body, your breath, the sounds, the temperature. Are you comfortable?  Are you safe? What does your here feel like? 

I leave you with this beautiful track – one of my favorites on Insight Timer. May you be safe, and may your Here be filled with ease.

With love, S.

Finding refuge in kindness and community

Photo by Marek Okon on Unsplash

I love this image of the Buddha supported by the tree branches – and resting.

Yesterday, Saturday, December 10th, 2022, thirty of us gathered – some in person and most online for a retreat I co-taught with my teacher Doreen Schweizer, my first time attending a retreat in the role of a teacher. Doreen Schweizer has been my primary dharma anchor and teacher – and someone who has inspired me to become a teacher myself. When Doreen reached out to me a couple of months ago asking me if I would co-teach the December retreat – an annual offering in the Valley Insight community, one which I have myself attended several times – I was thrilled! Over the last couple of months, we met a few times – to talk through the process – everything from the title and the intention to the structure of the days which involved an optional pre-retreat gathering on Friday evening and a day-long on Saturday. Through the meetings and along with many emails, there was joy – our spiritual friendship deepened and I have learned so much working alongside a veteran and wise teacher whom I trusted in completely and felt a deep metta connection with. 

Finally the retreat evening dawned, though not without some personal hurdles. Over the past week, my body developed an allergic reaction of some sort, breaking out into hives. It started on Tuesday night – and progressively worsened during the week. Hives are not new to my body – they are a familiar visitor but do not visit not often enough for me to have coping strategies lined up. After racking my brain this week, I realized this was probably a reaction to the covid booster shot I took a couple of weeks ago. Exhausted on Friday morning, I finally called my Doc and managed to get an appointment in – and get some medication to soothe. 

Part of what also unfolded was the resurfacing of my own doubts – will I be able to make this retreat? Will I be able to hold the container for others? Most of all, the thought – did I jinx this with my own excitement and joy? I’m sure this is something many of us can relate with. 

The journey from fear to love is sometimes a single step. A single thought. If this was meant to be, it will be. All I can do is show up. At night, laying in bed, I allowed mindfulness to take over. Itchiness. Heat. discomfort. Sensations. Compassion. Passing away. Arising again. My husband’s gentle hands soothing the itchiness in my back. receiving care from him. My daughter’s concern. This was the practice. This was my practice for the retreat! 

The medication received from my doctor on Friday evening worked wonders. I had almost no symptoms on the retreat day. Wow! Sweet gratefulness. I could be present, attentive and kind. My practice deepened in teaching this retreat with Doreen and holding the space for the participants, many of whom are my dear spiritual friends, and who brought their commitment, presence, resolve and kindness. 

Most of all, there was gratitude. Support from so many to make this retreat possible. Opening of hearts to being touched by boundless friendliness and peace.

It’s another beginning, my friend, this waking in a morning with no haze, and help coming without your asking! A glass submerged is turning inside the wine. With grief washed away, sweet gratefulness arrives.

Rumi (translated by Coleman Barks, in the collection ‘The glance’

Gratitude is the open door to abundance…

Frame on gratitude quotes, purchased in Ogunquit, ME

This frame resides in my meditation room, and often inspires me to hold the intention to have an attitude of gratitude. Each time I read it, depending on the state of my mind, a particular sentence stands out to me. For example, one of the sentences I love in this is about Piglet. I loved reading Winnie the pooh to my daughter, and we both love the stories so much that we have continued returning to them often. Piglet’s character in particular is one I can resonate with: like Piglet, I am afraid easily – I am scared of roller coasters, of swimming in the deep, of horror movies and when I was a child, I was afraid of loud fire-crackers, of the dark and many other things. And yet Piglet experienced what it was like to be brave and to be accepted for who he was. And Piglet’s heart can hold enormous amount of gratitude.

Our capacity to take in the beauty of life, to pause and savor the sweet little moments and to show up with openness for the difficult moments strengthens the heart. Gratitude connects directly to this: it helps us incline our attention and how we pay attention (wise effort) and it arises when we reflect on our experiences and take in the blessings in our lives. Indeed, ‘life is a series of thousands of miracles’. The invitation is to notice them.

When suffering falls away what is revealed is not a big blank but a natural sense of gratitude, good wishes for others, freedom and ease.

Rick hansen (in his book: Neurodharma)

Indeed sometimes gratitude arises spontaneously and at other times, we can cultivate this gratitude. Cultivation is the word Gil Fronsdal uses to summarize the seven factors of awakening that arise through mindfulness practice. Like cultivating a garden, we tend to these qualities with kind attention and care.

So how can we cultivate gratitude? One way to practice is to notice the moments of ease and peace and spaciousness in our lives, the ordinary moments when things are right, when there is absence of clinging or aversion, when conditions outside our control have conspired to create something beautiful for us. Another way to practice is to use what one of my teachers Tara Brach often reminds us of which is the Bodhisattva intention: ‘may this serve to awaken’, or the inquiry: ‘what is the opportunity here?’. This is particularly helpful in difficult moments and help us reconnect with gratitude and the kind compassionate attention that can hold all that comes along, like a mother’s warm embrace for her child. When I remember this inquiry, it helps me return to my intention to hold gratitude in my heart for all that comes along.

I leave you with this beautiful quote from Rumi:

“Be grateful for your life, every detail of it, and your face will come to shine like a sun, and everyone who sees it will be made glad and peaceful. Persist in gratitude, and you will slowly become one with the Sun of Love, and Love will shine through you its all-healing joy. The path of gratitude is not for children; it is path of tender heroes, of the heroes of tenderness who, whatever happens, keep burning on the altar of their hearts the flame of adoration.”

Rumi

May your day unfold with many moments of gratitude!

with metta, S.

Renunciation as a practice in turning towards what we love…

In Buddhism, renunciation has an important role in the development of an ethical life, it is one of the ten perfections of the heart, also known as paramis, and it is the underpinning of the five mindfulness trainings, as I understand them. However, renunciation often has this tone of severity associated with it – it indicates that giving up is a sort of punishment or self-denial that we should do to be a good citizen, a good meditator or a good person.

Personally, I tend to turn away from anything I should do. However, increasingly I find that renunciation actually protects my mind and heart, and makes me more mindful when I am making choices, so that I can make choices that are skillful. For example, in choosing not to shop/browse the internet/watch late night TV when I was tired on Monday night, I ended up listening to my body and going to bed early. I woke up feeling nourished, less distracted and it helped me enjoy my next day with more energy for the things that mattered to me.

Notice, I said, choosing not to. Sometimes, when we can’t choose skillfully, and are driven through reactivity to act in our habitual ways, like I was last night, I noticed that I could still renounce judging and limiting thoughts by letting go and choosing to forgive myself.

And when I choose to let go of self blame, I notice that I have more kindness and compassion for myself and others.

Renunciation can be through big or little actions. It can be giving up wanting to make our tea or food exactly the way we like it, so that we can simply enjoy the tea (or dinner) for what it is. It can be giving trying to have the house perfectly tidy and spending time with our loved ones instead. It can be giving up trying to make this piece for the blog perfect, so that it can simply be what it is. Honest, authentic, imperfect and alive in this moment.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Choice is freedom. When we choose the path of wholeness and ask ourselves if we really need something, and connect with a sense of abundance and gratitude, we find it easier to let go. And when we let go – whether it is thoughts, emotions, stories, beliefs – that release feels so good! Suddenly we are not so caught up in our stories. We are free. And when we notice how pleasurable this feels, renunciation gets easier. We do it not because we should, but because we want to. And we find increasing freedom in this way.

peace in the moment…

Photo by Matteo Basile on Pexels.com

I was lying down on a yoga mat on Sunapee beach – it was our last beach visit of this summer. My eyes closed, my body sinking into the floor of the mat. I could hear the voices of my daughter and husband in the background, chatting away. I could feel the movement of my breath and the warmth of the sun and the air touching my body – and my body molding into the shape that received this air, and the surface beneath me. I could feel the tension in my neck and right shoulder – and I felt no inclination to fix it. Just a subtle softening into the tension, a gentle acceptance.

I felt a deep peace. And also awe. This moment was perfect just as it was.

I was happy enough to stay still

inside the pearl inside the shell,

but the hurricane of experience

lashed me out of hiding

and made me a wave moving into shore,

saying loudly the ocean’s secret

as I went, and then, spent there,

I slept like fog against the cliff,

another stillness.

Rumi (translated by Coleman Barks)

I would soon feel the urge to move, to join the others. But not yet…This was the time to linger in this peace, to soak it in, to let it permeate deep into the cells of my body…

with gratitude, S.

To live each day as if it were your last…

Photo by Dylan Howell on Pexels.com

To live each day as if it were your last…these are the words that came to my mind as I was biking the last up hill stretch on the road leading to my home. My nearly 12-year old daughter had already made it to the top. We had taken a very pleasant bike ride on a cool summer cloudy afternoon when it had threatened to rain. It was one of our last days of summer vacation before school began for both of us. If this were my last day, would I be happy? Would I be content with the way my life has unfolded? Would I be at peace?

Even though I have been practicing metta and mindfulness for many years and now am training to be a mindfulness teacher, there are many moments in my day when I am not awake. I am in a trance/dreamlike state where it feels like I am here, but life is not in full focus. I only realize this when I return to the present moment – and how fresh and alive it feels! And here is an opportunity. To realize that I am NOW awake – instead of berating myself for being away. As Joseph Goldstein points out in a recent 10 percent happier episode, this is a helpful way of practicing. My teacher Tara Brach says this over and over again – this (moment when we return) is a moment of re-member-ing and re-relaxing in the body.

‘It does not matter how long we have been unconscious. We are groggy, but let the guilt go. Feel the motions of tenderness around you. the buoyancy‘.

Rumi

So as I rode up the hill, I remembered this question – what if this day were my last. Would I be ok?

I think I would be very grateful! For having a life more beautiful than anything I could have imagined. For having just enough suffering and pain for me to reach for and stay on a spiritual path; for having more than enough joy for me to have balance; and for having equanimity – the letting go of wanting anything more! More than anything, for being present, here and right now. If this were my last day, I would be grateful to be here and be with the people I love.

How about you? Are you living this day as if it were your last? If not, what is in the way? Can you ask this question with great tenderness and kindness so that you can really listen to the response from your heart?

In kindness, S.

Living itself as a friend…

Meditation is old and honorable, so why should I not sit, every morning of my life, on the hillside, looking into the shining world? Because, properly attended to, delight, as well as havoc, is suggestion. Can one be passionate about the just, the ideal, the sublime, and the holy, and yet commit to no labor in its cause?’ -Mary Oliver

I love these words by Mary Oliver and I believe them whole heartedly! At its core, walking a spiritual path requires discipline, it requires commitment and labor, it requires showing up when things are good and showing up when things are not so good. It requires sitting on the cushion when we feel alert and balanced and full of vigor and also when we feel tired and sleepy and not so full of vigor! Above all, it requires letting go of purpose and agenda…and trusting that wherever we are is exactly where we need to be.

‘Be courageous and discipline yourself…Work. Keep digging your well. Don’t think about getting off from work. Water is there somewhere.’, says Rumi. All these wise words point to showing up and doing the work.

And yet, how do we respond when we forget to show up? That too is part of the practice! Do we berate ourselves and pile on the self judgement or do we soften in tenderness for the challenging life circumstances that have prevented us from coming to our mat, or cushion? Above all, do we give ourselves permission to begin over?

Beginning over and over is the practice. And we do it not because its what we should do, but because we have a choice and it’s what we choose to do. And every time we choose to begin over, we open the door to spontaneous joy, the joy that arises from making time to listen to our soul, our spirit, the inner most voice inside that speaks only when we become silent… And that spontaneous joy that ‘comes and sits softly on my shoulder’ (in the words of Thoreau) gives me the courage to stay on the path.

So, here is to discipline and joy and supporting each other on the path…

With metta, S

Ps: please enjoy my latest collage for which I used Brush Dance’s Rumi calendar from 2007 as backdrop…

In taking the photograph, the reflection of the window adds an interesting dimension! The words at the bottom are from Rumi as well.

Creative living…

One of my absolute favorite poems of Rumi is this one…translated by Coleman Barks:

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened. Don’t open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.
Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

Everyday life presents us opportunities to do what we love, in little and big ways, whether it is because we are frightened or because we are joyful! This has never been more true perhaps than now, for us who are living through this pandemic. We have experienced contraction and expansion in a variety of ways and most of all we have all experienced transformation…

For me, these past few months have opened up a well of creative living… whether it is in trying new recipes or foods, or in crafting collages and knitting projects and designing jewelry or in simply playing with time in spontaneous ways…Professionally, I am a high school math teacher so being in the classroom everyday presents its own challenges and rewards, but most of all, it reminds me to take care of myself, model that for my daughter and make time for play!

As I was talking to a friend about my new projects , she suggested starting a creativity journal! I don’t want to use yet another blog space but thought I would experiment using this space for some of my work…it will certainly help me be more regular in blogging!

So hope you enjoy what is to come…. this collage below is inspired by my intentions for my upcoming teacher training program and was done on this snow day today, with my amazing incredibly talented ten year old daughter who made her own collage (not shown here) and will probably start her own blog when she is old enough! 🙂

The woodpecker, according to Ted Andrews, author of Animal Speak, represents new rhythms, and we sighted a couple of woodpeckers in our yard on New Year’s Day! It also represents discrimination, in what we take on in life so that we protect our time and our practice! And I really wanted to find a seat to represent meditation. Finally, the background is from the Nature Conservancy 2020 calendar!

With metta, S

Lessons from the ocean…

What is it about the ocean that brings such peace? Is there anything that I could say that has not been said before, and more eloquently than others?

Even so, I’m going to try to capture some felt experiences of being at the beach this past week in Maine:

  • Things arise and they pass away. If you pay attention, you can just discern a wave crashing, even as another is rising…and it is a never ending cycle. Just like the breath. That is comforting. It also reminded me of a powerful realization that my breath will be with my until the moment I die! Literally. So, if I am ever terrified or scared, I just need to remember to breathe. I actually understood what Rumi meant by: ‘Don’t let your throat tighten with fear. Take sips of breath all day and night!’.
  • What wild abandon looks like. My daughter Anjali is a water lover and a good swimmer. At nine, she sits down on the sand and lets the waves crash over her. She jumps into waves. She runs a race with them. She lays down and allows the ocean to embrace her. I have never met anyone like her, with no fear, and no self-consciousness. And the water was ice-cold! It was inspiring and it pushed me to let go a little bit of control. To let go, and lean in. Into the unknown and the uncertainty of this moment!
  • Thoughts arise and pass. We don’t have to act on them. We can, if we choose to. But there is that moment of choice, and in that moment also abides the freedom. If only we can slow down. It is easy to slow down by the ocean, to be lulled into the state of being, witnessing and abiding in love.
  • When we relax into the moment, give up our plans and agendas, we actually have more energy! I found that I had boundless energy to go with the flow, and at the end of the day, I felt at peace. No resistance, no pushing away.
  • So much beauty surrounds us. We can so easily take it for granted. Especially now, more than ever, we see our surroundings with new eyes. ‘A feeling of fullness comes, but usually it takes some bread to bring it. Beauty surrounds us, but usually we need to be walking in a garden to know it.’ (Rumi)
  • Appreciating the body. The body without which experience on this earth would not be possible. As Mary Oliver says in ‘Red bird explains himself’, “for truly the body needs a song, a spirit, a soul. And no less, to make this work, the soul has need of a body, and I am both of the earth and I am of the inexplicable beauty of heaven“.

So, let’s breathe. Feel the ocean within us. And ‘enjoy this being washed with a secret we sometimes know, and then not’ (Rumi)

With prayers and love,
S.