When thoughts get tangled, invite silence.
When the path is unclear, sharpen your vision.
When overwhelmed with worry, imagine success.
When feeling all alone, find someone that you can help.
When weary or depressed, ask your breath to buoy your spirit.
When outside forces foil your plans, reassess, regroup and carry on.
When motivation wanes, consider the tenacity that's inherent in all of life.
When emotions boil over, kill the heat, lift the lid, inhale the aroma and let it rest.
When ungrounded, feel the sun on your skin, play with water, walk barefoot in the grass ...
When an others flaw shows, share a loving smile and offer a compliment or some encouragement.
When death passes near, be grateful for life, embrace the past, then open arms and eyes to the future.
When you think you've got it all figured out, recall the tale of the 3 blind men and the elephant.
When you observe yourself thinking, acting or speaking harshly, fess up and apologize.
When victorious or successful, acknowledge all the others who made it possible.
When faith wears thin, let the fabric unravel and feel your source being.
When you don't know what you want, what you want is to know.
When an answer doesn't come, rephrase your question.
When conflict arises, step into the others' shoes.
When feeling rushed, pause and breathe.
When in err, rejoice being human.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Listen Up
One of the most important times to be mindful is when talking to others.
Far too often, it seems as though people join in conversations, primarily, in order to speak. Some seek to build self esteem by making an impression on others, some feel deeply compelled to convey particular information, some strive to manipulate others - the reasons are many. Whatever the motivation, most people don't really tend to listen very well.
Minds wander or are too busy trying to figure out what thoughts to run through the mouth next, or are so impatient that they can't help but to blurt out their offerings in the middle of another's speech. Sometimes it's something completely unrelated and sometimes it's a response to the others thoughts before they've been fully delivered, which is kind of like watching the first half of a movie and then discussing its ending with imagined understanding. When I'm on the interrupted side in this scenario, it feels as dismissive as if the interrupter had just turned and walked away while I was in mid sentence, too impatient to allow me to finish or too uninterested in what I was saying.
Having practiced and taught exercises in active listening, I know that it can be a very illuminating and rewarding practice. Not only because one actually hears the others message, but because there's so much more to absorb about the other, when one decides to really tune in. And it's actually a functional method of meditation, too; in that, it requires prolonged focus and a selfless attitude in order to accept the flowing stream of words, feelings and ideas without judgment, evaluation or response.
The next time you find yourself in a conversation, try to give the other party's cause priority over your own. You'll find that it's far more challenging than it may sound. It'll probably take practice to get good at it. But I wager that, as you perfect the practice, your conversations will become more meaningful, you'll learn more about your self, world and friends and your relationships will grow much deeper.
It's a free and easily arranged experiment. You've got nothing to lose, so give it a try. Listen up and be there for the other side of the conversation. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at just how rewarding it can be.
Far too often, it seems as though people join in conversations, primarily, in order to speak. Some seek to build self esteem by making an impression on others, some feel deeply compelled to convey particular information, some strive to manipulate others - the reasons are many. Whatever the motivation, most people don't really tend to listen very well.
Minds wander or are too busy trying to figure out what thoughts to run through the mouth next, or are so impatient that they can't help but to blurt out their offerings in the middle of another's speech. Sometimes it's something completely unrelated and sometimes it's a response to the others thoughts before they've been fully delivered, which is kind of like watching the first half of a movie and then discussing its ending with imagined understanding. When I'm on the interrupted side in this scenario, it feels as dismissive as if the interrupter had just turned and walked away while I was in mid sentence, too impatient to allow me to finish or too uninterested in what I was saying.
Having practiced and taught exercises in active listening, I know that it can be a very illuminating and rewarding practice. Not only because one actually hears the others message, but because there's so much more to absorb about the other, when one decides to really tune in. And it's actually a functional method of meditation, too; in that, it requires prolonged focus and a selfless attitude in order to accept the flowing stream of words, feelings and ideas without judgment, evaluation or response.
The next time you find yourself in a conversation, try to give the other party's cause priority over your own. You'll find that it's far more challenging than it may sound. It'll probably take practice to get good at it. But I wager that, as you perfect the practice, your conversations will become more meaningful, you'll learn more about your self, world and friends and your relationships will grow much deeper.
It's a free and easily arranged experiment. You've got nothing to lose, so give it a try. Listen up and be there for the other side of the conversation. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at just how rewarding it can be.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Get Lost
Being present, in the moment, now. It's a very simple idea. But it can't be realized as long as one remains fixated in thought. It seems perfectly practical to the thinking mind. “The present is a thing (or a place or a state) that I am to remain affixed to.” But it isn't like that. By the time you've registered something occurring, it's already in the past – let alone after thinking about it. Being present is being on the leading edge of creation. It's more a state of anticipation than recognition.
You could take a snap shot of a sunset and have a perfectly nice memory. But it's merely a petrified footprint of a sunset that existed only momentarily, just for that spot on the planet and lived a lifetime of shapes and shades and shines, in a splash. When living within a world of thought, life is seen as a series of footprints, in the wake of the world that just happened.
It's no different than as seen reflected in listening to music. It can be a visceral experience when lost in it's unfolding – rather than lost in thought. In fact, “lost” is a prerequisite to full presence. Becoming one with the moment isn't just a catchy slogan. It's an accurate description. There can be no “one” when there's a “me”. Me, requires “other than me”.
So being present isn't so much about being just the right way. When you're there, it's more like “not-being”. Learning to hold space, maintain open presence and acute awareness, without claiming ownership of, or feeling compelled to articulate, anything. Without expectations, or need for experiences to mesh with preconceptions. Not seeing how it is in relation to one's self and story, but how it flows as an awe inspiring, ever emerging, spring of infinite creation.
There's an awareness that's always present, which seems to be us, but is clearly not the us we think of when considering who we are. Whether you interpret it as your higher self, God's presence within, or one of many facets of self doesn't matter. What does matter is that we learn to invite its untainted presence into our experiences and hear its council as much as we possibly can. The thinker won't care much for this idea. Promises of rewards can entice the thinker into cooperation, but it's like talking to a fish about mountain climbing. It just doesn't compute.
It's not that the thinker is necessarily wrong, it's just not as right as it thinks it is. It can't see beyond the confines of it's own view point, which will never reveal more than a fraction of life's unfolding from one small perspective. So we learn to accept that quiet presence as a life long companion and partner. Not because the book said to or because there's some reward in doing so; but rather, because it's the most accurate, honest and natural way to see and be.
Our job is not to manufacture and maintain our personal truth, but to be open to witnessing everything, as it appears, with full understanding that it's only appearances. We simply can't capture the truth, or even see it in its entirety. And that's OK.
We aren't here to serve our egos. They're here to serve us. So lose your little self and awaken to living your life, to seeing and feeling and hearing, to connecting on an intimate level with those around you, and to being as receptive as you can be, in all ways and to all things. Life is far too amazing/wondrous/awesome/remarkable/miraculous/astonishing/spectacular and marvelous to let it pass you by, while living out your days inside of your head. Go ahead, get lost, and be alive.
Isn't that the whole point?
You could take a snap shot of a sunset and have a perfectly nice memory. But it's merely a petrified footprint of a sunset that existed only momentarily, just for that spot on the planet and lived a lifetime of shapes and shades and shines, in a splash. When living within a world of thought, life is seen as a series of footprints, in the wake of the world that just happened.
It's no different than as seen reflected in listening to music. It can be a visceral experience when lost in it's unfolding – rather than lost in thought. In fact, “lost” is a prerequisite to full presence. Becoming one with the moment isn't just a catchy slogan. It's an accurate description. There can be no “one” when there's a “me”. Me, requires “other than me”.
So being present isn't so much about being just the right way. When you're there, it's more like “not-being”. Learning to hold space, maintain open presence and acute awareness, without claiming ownership of, or feeling compelled to articulate, anything. Without expectations, or need for experiences to mesh with preconceptions. Not seeing how it is in relation to one's self and story, but how it flows as an awe inspiring, ever emerging, spring of infinite creation.
There's an awareness that's always present, which seems to be us, but is clearly not the us we think of when considering who we are. Whether you interpret it as your higher self, God's presence within, or one of many facets of self doesn't matter. What does matter is that we learn to invite its untainted presence into our experiences and hear its council as much as we possibly can. The thinker won't care much for this idea. Promises of rewards can entice the thinker into cooperation, but it's like talking to a fish about mountain climbing. It just doesn't compute.
It's not that the thinker is necessarily wrong, it's just not as right as it thinks it is. It can't see beyond the confines of it's own view point, which will never reveal more than a fraction of life's unfolding from one small perspective. So we learn to accept that quiet presence as a life long companion and partner. Not because the book said to or because there's some reward in doing so; but rather, because it's the most accurate, honest and natural way to see and be.
Our job is not to manufacture and maintain our personal truth, but to be open to witnessing everything, as it appears, with full understanding that it's only appearances. We simply can't capture the truth, or even see it in its entirety. And that's OK.
We aren't here to serve our egos. They're here to serve us. So lose your little self and awaken to living your life, to seeing and feeling and hearing, to connecting on an intimate level with those around you, and to being as receptive as you can be, in all ways and to all things. Life is far too amazing/wondrous/awesome/remarkable/miraculous/astonishing/spectacular and marvelous to let it pass you by, while living out your days inside of your head. Go ahead, get lost, and be alive.
Isn't that the whole point?
Friday, June 4, 2010
The Thrifty Life
People tend to take life personally. Fantasies don't come true, jobs turn out to be 5 times bigger once commitments are made, the weather doesn't cooperate and other's attempts to fulfill their fantasies often interfere with our own schemes and dreams. When such events transpire, we feel frustration and disappointment, resentment and anger, all manner of negative responses spring to life as a result of our reactions to life's events.
Those of us who frequent thrift shops and garage sales learn to adopt a particular attitude when “thrifting”. Wants are clearly differentiated from needs, and hopes for specific presents are carried lightly. We enter with eyes wide, scanning shelves and racks for the slightest glint of special. Evaluation proceeds without attachments. When a zipper is found broken, the matching plate has a chip, the lamp doesn't light or the shoe doesn't fit, there's little sense of loss, because we don't own any of it. No time is spent mourning any absence. Focus clings to undiscovered possibilities. The eyes are back on the prowl, fingers feel for finery, feet seek virgin aisles and imagination invents new uses for curiosities – and all of this, usually, with thoughts of friends and family swirling through the racks, to broaden the scope of potential discoveries.
Whatever the spoils of our conquests, at the end of the day, surprise prizes are cherished every bit as much as that rare reward of a wish granted. And this mindset can be propagated.
It's probably not the most practical way to exercise this attitude (unless you happen to own a chain of self storage complexes) but clearly, there are some lessons, imparted through thrifting, worthy of being integrated into daily life. Take things as they come, be happy with what you have, keep your focus on the positive, look for the special in the ordinary, …
Better living through “thrifty” thinking.
Those of us who frequent thrift shops and garage sales learn to adopt a particular attitude when “thrifting”. Wants are clearly differentiated from needs, and hopes for specific presents are carried lightly. We enter with eyes wide, scanning shelves and racks for the slightest glint of special. Evaluation proceeds without attachments. When a zipper is found broken, the matching plate has a chip, the lamp doesn't light or the shoe doesn't fit, there's little sense of loss, because we don't own any of it. No time is spent mourning any absence. Focus clings to undiscovered possibilities. The eyes are back on the prowl, fingers feel for finery, feet seek virgin aisles and imagination invents new uses for curiosities – and all of this, usually, with thoughts of friends and family swirling through the racks, to broaden the scope of potential discoveries.
Whatever the spoils of our conquests, at the end of the day, surprise prizes are cherished every bit as much as that rare reward of a wish granted. And this mindset can be propagated.
It's probably not the most practical way to exercise this attitude (unless you happen to own a chain of self storage complexes) but clearly, there are some lessons, imparted through thrifting, worthy of being integrated into daily life. Take things as they come, be happy with what you have, keep your focus on the positive, look for the special in the ordinary, …
Better living through “thrifty” thinking.
Friday, May 28, 2010
No Recipe for Success
Meditation doesn't want to be formulaic, consistent and predictable. It's not like cooking a preplanned meal in accordance with specific instructions. It's more like cooking from a pantry that's stocked with varying ingredients, while trying to satisfy dietary requirements that differ daily. The playing field is always shifting. Our needs change, as do the means to meet them – sometimes a little, sometimes a lot.
Developing skill in meditation isn't about learning the correct technique and perfecting its execution. It's developing the sensitivity to clearly observe one's inner world, and honing the instincts to adjust goals and tactics on the fly.
It's an art not a science, and should feel more like exploring, investigating or listening than working. It does require serious dedication, but shouldn't be taken all too seriously, on the cushion. Effort should be applied to clarifying intentions, not to practicing quietude. Meditation should be thought of as an act of surrendering, rather than accomplishing. Although it's commonly a pleasant side effect, we don't meditate to improve ourselves. We meditate to lose our selves.
Kinda hard to do when following directions.
Developing skill in meditation isn't about learning the correct technique and perfecting its execution. It's developing the sensitivity to clearly observe one's inner world, and honing the instincts to adjust goals and tactics on the fly.
It's an art not a science, and should feel more like exploring, investigating or listening than working. It does require serious dedication, but shouldn't be taken all too seriously, on the cushion. Effort should be applied to clarifying intentions, not to practicing quietude. Meditation should be thought of as an act of surrendering, rather than accomplishing. Although it's commonly a pleasant side effect, we don't meditate to improve ourselves. We meditate to lose our selves.
Kinda hard to do when following directions.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Garden of the Mind
Things just pop up from the ever fertile soil of our minds. Thoughts, images, emotions, vague inklings, brilliant insights, everything that arises within is a gift from beneath the surface of consciousness. It may seem like the mind creates them, because that's where they're acknowledged. But it really only discovers and labels them. In truth, our flowery thoughts only exist within the field of fixed ideas, and we only perceive that part of our mind because of the foliage that's growing there.
Many take their garden as a given condition and ingest whatever sprouts up. But we don't have any moral obligation to anything growing there, and can weed freely and choose which ones to nurture, in accordance with our values and priorities. We can sow seeds and transplant notions from other's gardens, and we can change or reconfigure it, at any time.
Like any garden, it's never complete. It's a continually evolving thing, that is ever waiting to be re-envisioned, reinvented and molded into a new and unique entity.
Step back, walk around it and take a good look. After a reasonable assessment, grab your shovel and pruners, select some healthy seeds or a hand me down bush and get to work – begging your pardon, get to play.
Many take their garden as a given condition and ingest whatever sprouts up. But we don't have any moral obligation to anything growing there, and can weed freely and choose which ones to nurture, in accordance with our values and priorities. We can sow seeds and transplant notions from other's gardens, and we can change or reconfigure it, at any time.
Like any garden, it's never complete. It's a continually evolving thing, that is ever waiting to be re-envisioned, reinvented and molded into a new and unique entity.
Step back, walk around it and take a good look. After a reasonable assessment, grab your shovel and pruners, select some healthy seeds or a hand me down bush and get to work – begging your pardon, get to play.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Not all Breaths are Created Equal
I haven't a clue how many times I've encouraged others to be aware of their breath, and I really can't think of a more important or meaningful thing for people to tend to.
The breath of life. Quite simply, without our breath as a constant companion, we wouldn't be here. When you think about it in those terms, each and every breath we take sustains our existence over the next few minutes. And, not all breaths are created equal. The fullness of the inhale, the completeness of the exhale, the places and durations of pauses, the pace and intensity of its movements, and the attitudes and focus' all tint the neutrality of pure prana, en route to our cells and synapses.
The quality of each moment of life is greatly influenced by the quality of the last few breaths. And it's all completely free for the taking. (Well, you might have to “pay” attention.) It's like the universe has provided us with an absolutely abundant larder and granted us open access to it. Each breath is a scoop of vital life force that splashes into our heart centers and cascades throughout our bodies and minds in a perpetual play of give and take. “Excuse me. Might I please borrow another cup of prana?”
First, one has to take the time to get to know the breath, in all its guises, and observe the corresponding effects on the body and brain. Then we can develop the skill to intentionally influence our state of being through conscious control of the breath.
It may seem like a huge commitment to endeavor to hold perpetual awareness and mastery of our breathing. But it “pays off in spades”, often, in unexpected ways. Our breathing is always happening, and it takes as much energy to ignore something that's so “in your face” as it does to pay attention to it.
The breath is always affecting the way the mind works, shouldn't the door swing both ways?
For all intents and purposes, on a personal level, our lives are as we perceive them to be. If there's a way for us to manage how we experience and react to our world, doesn't it seem like something that deserves the highest priority? And it's as easy and natural as ... well, breathing. The body already knows how to utilize the breath, demonstrating its prowess through such acts as: yawning, sighing, coughing, crying, gasping, laughing, grunting, moaning and humming.
If only it required something that could turn a profit. Then, at least, there'd be some infomercials out there pushing the message, too. Instead, you've just got the likes of me. I broadcast my words into the air and across the expanses of cyberspace in the hopes that someone will hear me, take a little time to ponder my thoughts and receive some new insights or a fresh perspective.
Accepting that your breath is largely responsible for how you see and feel, in each passing moment - if you're not in control of it, then who is? Shut off the autopilot. Pay attention and take charge. It's the obvious choice, when you look at your options.
How do you want to feel over the next minute or three? Imagine it and invite your breath to help you bring that feeling to life. Whether you acknowledge it or not, your breath is always actively feeding your being for the immediate future, shaping and coloring your every experience.
Breathe wisely.
The breath of life. Quite simply, without our breath as a constant companion, we wouldn't be here. When you think about it in those terms, each and every breath we take sustains our existence over the next few minutes. And, not all breaths are created equal. The fullness of the inhale, the completeness of the exhale, the places and durations of pauses, the pace and intensity of its movements, and the attitudes and focus' all tint the neutrality of pure prana, en route to our cells and synapses.
The quality of each moment of life is greatly influenced by the quality of the last few breaths. And it's all completely free for the taking. (Well, you might have to “pay” attention.) It's like the universe has provided us with an absolutely abundant larder and granted us open access to it. Each breath is a scoop of vital life force that splashes into our heart centers and cascades throughout our bodies and minds in a perpetual play of give and take. “Excuse me. Might I please borrow another cup of prana?”
First, one has to take the time to get to know the breath, in all its guises, and observe the corresponding effects on the body and brain. Then we can develop the skill to intentionally influence our state of being through conscious control of the breath.
It may seem like a huge commitment to endeavor to hold perpetual awareness and mastery of our breathing. But it “pays off in spades”, often, in unexpected ways. Our breathing is always happening, and it takes as much energy to ignore something that's so “in your face” as it does to pay attention to it.
The breath is always affecting the way the mind works, shouldn't the door swing both ways?
For all intents and purposes, on a personal level, our lives are as we perceive them to be. If there's a way for us to manage how we experience and react to our world, doesn't it seem like something that deserves the highest priority? And it's as easy and natural as ... well, breathing. The body already knows how to utilize the breath, demonstrating its prowess through such acts as: yawning, sighing, coughing, crying, gasping, laughing, grunting, moaning and humming.
If only it required something that could turn a profit. Then, at least, there'd be some infomercials out there pushing the message, too. Instead, you've just got the likes of me. I broadcast my words into the air and across the expanses of cyberspace in the hopes that someone will hear me, take a little time to ponder my thoughts and receive some new insights or a fresh perspective.
Accepting that your breath is largely responsible for how you see and feel, in each passing moment - if you're not in control of it, then who is? Shut off the autopilot. Pay attention and take charge. It's the obvious choice, when you look at your options.
How do you want to feel over the next minute or three? Imagine it and invite your breath to help you bring that feeling to life. Whether you acknowledge it or not, your breath is always actively feeding your being for the immediate future, shaping and coloring your every experience.
Breathe wisely.
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