I was in Lancaster, Pennsylvania yesterday with my in-laws, and a bunch of us went sledding on the slope behind the house. They had some three feet of snow, so trudging back up the slope was a challenge at first. However, after each run down the slope, the way back up became easier because we used the same trail to return to the top, and over time, the snow was tamped down.
One time, after the trail was well-worn, and going was easy, it became a metaphor for how we do this for each other, as human beings. We blaze trails, or we follow trails steadily that others have laid down, and eventually, the way becomes easier, for us, and for those who come after us.
I have been contemplating legacy, after the passing of my spiritual teacher this past summer. Though he left few earthly belongings behind, the legacy of his love, care, and example are enormous and continue to unfold.
If I veiw my life through the lens of what will be left after I'm gone, for my family, for my friends, for my community, it brings everything into sharper focus. An ancient Native American practice is to consider each action for its impact on seven generations forward. When seen in this light, I want to make my life a light, like the Buddha instructed.
Watching the Olympics this weekend, I can see easily how as each athlete follows their own dreams, they not only lay tracks for the next athlete in the next generation, but they also leave tracks for us, to become inspired, to pursue what it is that we feel we are here to do. And I am not talking about achievement. I'm talking about stepping into the destiny that is ours, whether it is to be a great athlete, a caring friend, a loving mother, a politician, an arranger of flowers, a business woman, etc.
The collective tracks that we lay begin with the personal tracks that we lay in every day choices. Each step matters. Each point of connection with another human being matters. As we focus on connection and love, these are the tracks that are laid down. As we focus on the legacy of each action, and we allow our perspective to lift, those steps matter.
The benefit of some reflection on legacy is that you can see that what we leave in the world is not status or achievement or things. It is love, and love only. Love is the only thing that matters at all.
****
Love someone today. Love them with your eyes, love them with your smile. Love them with a card. Or love them with a short note via email. Connect, love. It is the only thing that matters. Get out of your own way, and love someone. In that love, you become a light, and the world becomes just that much brighter.
****
Happy Valentines, one day later,
Cynthia
Monday, February 15, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
We'll be together whatever the weather
When my husband, Jonathan, was taking a public presentation class at seminary in New York, he learned the following ditty to practice articulation:
Whether the weather be cool,
or whether the weather be hot,
we'll be together whatever the weather,
whether we like it or not!
It's a great koan for life. This is true for us as individuals, and also true for us as humanity: that no matter what befalls us, we are together, whether we like it or not!
The devastation of Haiti's two recent earthquakes begs for togetherness. When tragedy strikes with such force and magnitude, you cannot help but feel the impact. The best antidote to the overwhelming nature of such news is compassionate action.
Each of us is part of an immense web of life. Sometimes, it can seem so immense and global that we feel we may not be able to do enough. But our compassion for each other is our strength. Whether it is saying prayers for those surviving, or sending financial help or raising funds, each action is a line cast to help nurture and sustain our innate sense of connectedness to each other and to all of humanity.
The Dalai Lama suggests that true happiness stems from cultivating altruism, love and compassion. We are at our best and most buoyant when we are together, whatever the weather brings us.
...
A note:
There are so many places to donate, but just in case you are looking for a recommendation, I suggest Mennonite Central Committee. They are known for a very low operational overhead as well as highly organized disaster relief.
https://donate.mcc.org/project/haiti-earthquake
......
Whether the weather be cool,
or whether the weather be hot,
we'll be together whatever the weather,
whether we like it or not!
It's a great koan for life. This is true for us as individuals, and also true for us as humanity: that no matter what befalls us, we are together, whether we like it or not!
The devastation of Haiti's two recent earthquakes begs for togetherness. When tragedy strikes with such force and magnitude, you cannot help but feel the impact. The best antidote to the overwhelming nature of such news is compassionate action.
Each of us is part of an immense web of life. Sometimes, it can seem so immense and global that we feel we may not be able to do enough. But our compassion for each other is our strength. Whether it is saying prayers for those surviving, or sending financial help or raising funds, each action is a line cast to help nurture and sustain our innate sense of connectedness to each other and to all of humanity.
The Dalai Lama suggests that true happiness stems from cultivating altruism, love and compassion. We are at our best and most buoyant when we are together, whatever the weather brings us.
...
A note:
There are so many places to donate, but just in case you are looking for a recommendation, I suggest Mennonite Central Committee. They are known for a very low operational overhead as well as highly organized disaster relief.
https://donate.mcc.org/project/haiti-earthquake
......
Monday, January 04, 2010
Don't Miss It!
It is easy to miss what is essential to the soul. While driving to a friend's house this morning to pick up an item she purchased for me, I realized with delight that I would need to drive through Mercer County Park on my way to my next destination. This is the 2500 acre park that is close to my home and is home to deer, to a lake, lofty pines, fields, and woods. But when I actually was driving through the park, my mind was off at the mall already, selecting a gift for someone on my Christmas list.
In front of me, a car slowed down to an almost stop to turn into an only slightly-plowed road. As I slowed down behind the car, I realized: I was missing it! I was missing the park, the beauty of the white snow, the slowed pace of my car, the warmth of the sun streaming through my windows. I was missing it all, because I was thinking of my list.
So I slowed down. This really is the simplest key to enjoying life and its string of moments. Slow down and notice. Even just slowing my car down, I could feel my whole body relax. What was the hurry? If I arrived five minutes earlier, would anything be gained? What if I arrived ten minutes later than planned and my body was relaxed and my mind filled with beauty? Then I have gained the world in that moment.
The rabbits and groundhogs and deer made little trails across the snow. Other than these creature paths, the snow was untouched. For a moment, I wished I were a rabbit, who could find a trail and follow it to a burrow and see what it was like down there.
The trees are magnificently weighed down by heaps of snow. In noticing them, I feel the deep weight of the snow in my body. It creates an inner calm. My mind wants to drift off to the mall, but I pull it back gently. Noticing, I feel refreshed.
At the end of the park road, I notice a deer path that comes from the woods and ends in a snow pile by the side of the road. There are clumps of snow on this side of the pile, suggesting that a deer has wandered across the street to the row of houses. I say a prayer for the deer, that it returns safely to the woods.
I turn out of the park, and head toward the traffic-heavy streets. But the park is in my mind. The deer tracks and the woods have given me the gift of life in the slow lane, just at the point when I had forgotten it.
****
A deep bow to all of you this season. Today is Winter Solstice, the return of light. A good night to light a candle, and breathe a word of gratitude for light and all the life that is possible because of it. May your season be blessed moments of clear noticing of all that is given to you, every day, every year. May your season be holy.
December 21, 2009
In front of me, a car slowed down to an almost stop to turn into an only slightly-plowed road. As I slowed down behind the car, I realized: I was missing it! I was missing the park, the beauty of the white snow, the slowed pace of my car, the warmth of the sun streaming through my windows. I was missing it all, because I was thinking of my list.
So I slowed down. This really is the simplest key to enjoying life and its string of moments. Slow down and notice. Even just slowing my car down, I could feel my whole body relax. What was the hurry? If I arrived five minutes earlier, would anything be gained? What if I arrived ten minutes later than planned and my body was relaxed and my mind filled with beauty? Then I have gained the world in that moment.
The rabbits and groundhogs and deer made little trails across the snow. Other than these creature paths, the snow was untouched. For a moment, I wished I were a rabbit, who could find a trail and follow it to a burrow and see what it was like down there.
The trees are magnificently weighed down by heaps of snow. In noticing them, I feel the deep weight of the snow in my body. It creates an inner calm. My mind wants to drift off to the mall, but I pull it back gently. Noticing, I feel refreshed.
At the end of the park road, I notice a deer path that comes from the woods and ends in a snow pile by the side of the road. There are clumps of snow on this side of the pile, suggesting that a deer has wandered across the street to the row of houses. I say a prayer for the deer, that it returns safely to the woods.
I turn out of the park, and head toward the traffic-heavy streets. But the park is in my mind. The deer tracks and the woods have given me the gift of life in the slow lane, just at the point when I had forgotten it.
****
A deep bow to all of you this season. Today is Winter Solstice, the return of light. A good night to light a candle, and breathe a word of gratitude for light and all the life that is possible because of it. May your season be blessed moments of clear noticing of all that is given to you, every day, every year. May your season be holy.
December 21, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Trusting the Still Center
I have been walking in the local park about weekly with a friend. The air is clear, the scent of decaying leaves strangely refreshing! The park is some 2500 acres of woods and fields, with a lake at its center. Walking through the woods feels ancient and rich, putting my feet to the timeless soil, under the white and blue sky-scape.
For me, the woods invariably connects me to the "still center," the place where doubt falls away and beauty and inner wisdom is found. This still point is the quiet interior, the essence of our nature, and the place of all intuitive knowledge. When I guide others to find this interior, I often ask people to visualize a staircase to the interior. The staircase is a method for moving the attention away from the head and into the belly.
The head -- the place of logical thinking -- will want to doubt the very existence of this interior. When we tap into intuitive knowledge, it is the knowledge that challenges us to grow and change, while the logical mind will want everything to remain as is. Why? Because it feels safer to have things stay the same. Doubt is the mind's way of staying in control.
But experience tells us that we are not really in control of our lives. We can make choices, and direct our lives along a certain course, but we are never fully in control!
Self-mastery is the ability to hold onto our still center, allowing doubt to be sidelined by the practice of listening to what that center is asking of us. Eventually, with practice, doubt arises, but it no longer can disguise itself as truth.
Awakening the interior voice takes listening and acting on what is found so that you can learn to trust its wisdom. Einstein said that our society has it upside down. That truly, intuitive knowledge is a sacred gift, and logic the servant of this gift. Our culture and our planet desperately need people to follow arising interior guidance. For what knowledge is there is designed to guide the unfolding of the individual, for the highest purposes for the individual and the planet.
For me, the woods invariably connects me to the "still center," the place where doubt falls away and beauty and inner wisdom is found. This still point is the quiet interior, the essence of our nature, and the place of all intuitive knowledge. When I guide others to find this interior, I often ask people to visualize a staircase to the interior. The staircase is a method for moving the attention away from the head and into the belly.
The head -- the place of logical thinking -- will want to doubt the very existence of this interior. When we tap into intuitive knowledge, it is the knowledge that challenges us to grow and change, while the logical mind will want everything to remain as is. Why? Because it feels safer to have things stay the same. Doubt is the mind's way of staying in control.
But experience tells us that we are not really in control of our lives. We can make choices, and direct our lives along a certain course, but we are never fully in control!
Self-mastery is the ability to hold onto our still center, allowing doubt to be sidelined by the practice of listening to what that center is asking of us. Eventually, with practice, doubt arises, but it no longer can disguise itself as truth.
Awakening the interior voice takes listening and acting on what is found so that you can learn to trust its wisdom. Einstein said that our society has it upside down. That truly, intuitive knowledge is a sacred gift, and logic the servant of this gift. Our culture and our planet desperately need people to follow arising interior guidance. For what knowledge is there is designed to guide the unfolding of the individual, for the highest purposes for the individual and the planet.
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Earth Meditations
Today was quiet, and with my family off doing their own things, I had a free couple of afternoon hours with nothing planned. For starters, I pulled out my guitar and played the old John Denver song, "Sunshine on My Shoulders." There's nothing like a song like that to kick you outside. The rest of my time, I spent emptying pots of plants that froze the other night and sweeping leaves off my front porch.
For a moment, carrying a pot to the front yard so that I could re-pot geraniums to move them indoors, I could feel the timelessness of this one little act. I was just one little pair of feet and hands among centuries upon centuries of women and men walking through the seasons with the crops -- planting, harvesting, emptying flower beds and fields for the winter, then planting once again in the right season.
There are so many ways to let the mind relax into the greater secret of life. Being with the dirt and the pots and the dead plants, I feel a belonging to the earth. I feel like a real inhabitant, a participant, a sister to the soil. What better meditation than to sweep off the front stoop and stop to breathe in the cooling autumn air.
The point of meditation is to focus the mind so that the normal soundtrack of the mind can fade into a greater composition. Meditation does not have to be cushion-sitting. In my twenties, I lived next to my grandparents on a rural hill in Bally, Pennsylvania. They had a profoundly meditative life without ever having sat in lotus position.
Their love for the land and people were their meditation. For my grandmother, that meant sewing quilts for charity sales, cooking for family who lived nearby, and tending her flower garden. For my grandfather, it was taking walks, helping my grandmother string green beans or peel apples, and tinkering with electrical components in his shop. Granted, they were retired. But they understood quietude not because they practiced it but because they offered their lives in love and gentle service to those around them. Their religion dictated that they serve as the the hands and feet of Christ. They were humble servants.
When I was cleaning the pots today, I was reminded of how meditating is a state of mind. It is the state of mind in which one is in love with the earth and the beings in it. In that love, we are the hands and feet of the greater Consciousness being expressed through us. If we understand the profundity of that, we can relax. Who wants to be a small, whiny human being when you can be the hands and feet of Divine Consciousness?
...
Do: Ask yourself: who do I love? Who am I serving in this life? When I die, what will I be remembered by? Create an intention for your days. How would you like them to be filled? Write this somewhere so that you can be reminded of it.
It is the love that we remember -- the moments when love takes hold of our hearts and reminds us of who we are.
For a moment, carrying a pot to the front yard so that I could re-pot geraniums to move them indoors, I could feel the timelessness of this one little act. I was just one little pair of feet and hands among centuries upon centuries of women and men walking through the seasons with the crops -- planting, harvesting, emptying flower beds and fields for the winter, then planting once again in the right season.
There are so many ways to let the mind relax into the greater secret of life. Being with the dirt and the pots and the dead plants, I feel a belonging to the earth. I feel like a real inhabitant, a participant, a sister to the soil. What better meditation than to sweep off the front stoop and stop to breathe in the cooling autumn air.
The point of meditation is to focus the mind so that the normal soundtrack of the mind can fade into a greater composition. Meditation does not have to be cushion-sitting. In my twenties, I lived next to my grandparents on a rural hill in Bally, Pennsylvania. They had a profoundly meditative life without ever having sat in lotus position.
Their love for the land and people were their meditation. For my grandmother, that meant sewing quilts for charity sales, cooking for family who lived nearby, and tending her flower garden. For my grandfather, it was taking walks, helping my grandmother string green beans or peel apples, and tinkering with electrical components in his shop. Granted, they were retired. But they understood quietude not because they practiced it but because they offered their lives in love and gentle service to those around them. Their religion dictated that they serve as the the hands and feet of Christ. They were humble servants.
When I was cleaning the pots today, I was reminded of how meditating is a state of mind. It is the state of mind in which one is in love with the earth and the beings in it. In that love, we are the hands and feet of the greater Consciousness being expressed through us. If we understand the profundity of that, we can relax. Who wants to be a small, whiny human being when you can be the hands and feet of Divine Consciousness?
...
Do: Ask yourself: who do I love? Who am I serving in this life? When I die, what will I be remembered by? Create an intention for your days. How would you like them to be filled? Write this somewhere so that you can be reminded of it.
It is the love that we remember -- the moments when love takes hold of our hearts and reminds us of who we are.
Friday, November 06, 2009
Monday, November 02, 2009
Simplify the Challenges
Some of the flowers of summer are remarkably still blooming. I have pink petunias and red geraniums that don't want to fade away. I honor their fighting spirit, their blooming against all seasonal reason. It helps that they are close to the house, in window boxes, so they get that nice heat radiating out from our ancient, breezy structure.
What is it that helps us press forward, against all odds? The more I sit with people in coaching, and listen to family and friends and their various struggles, and watch my own process, too, I wonder what it is that gives us motivation to press onward. If you look around you, you will find individuals from all walks of life, slugging through some of life's most difficult trials, and finding their way -- in the way that they are able-- to light and new growth.
In the yogic lineage I have studied, life is seen as a place of purification, where all of our tendencies are burned, bit by bit, so that we can radiate out more of the love that is our true nature. In the Christian lineage, it is taught that we are also being changed into the likeness of God. Seen by these two lineages, life is a kind of refining fire, where what we can hope for is that as we are refined by life, we become more and more like the Pure Love that makes up our nature.
It takes spunk, I think, to take life's challenges as purification. It's easier, in some ways, to complain and rail against what comes our way. Or we want to run and hide, hoping this will trick fate to deal up something different for us.
But like the flowers in my window boxes, life can be simple, when you nestle up against a warm house, accepting the wind and the rain as part of it. These flowers have taken a beating this summer, with all of the rain. Yet look at them. They keep coming back. To them, life is simple. The rain comes, it damages many of the petals; the petals regrow. There is no question about re-growth. It happens, because it is the flower's nature to regrow.
To be like a flower. This is the state of No Mind. To understand problems and challenges as a state of grace, given for our own growth, would be to truly eliminate mental suffering. Growth follows because it is a natural outcome of hardship.
Question for you: What are your challenges? How are your challenges taking old patterns, old ways of being, old beliefs, and asking for something new? What is the new impulse that wants to emerge? Take just one challenge you might be facing, whether its a relationship, a financial situation, a work issue. What is being asked of you? How is your God Nature being called forward?
When framed in this way, challenges are a blessing in disguise. Not that the challenges aren't hard and sometimes very difficult, but that when framed correctly, we can accept the simplicity of what is being asked. Take some time to look for the blessing. Make it a treasure hunt. And if you can't find it, ask a friend or a mentor to help you on the hunt. The treasure is always there.
What is it that helps us press forward, against all odds? The more I sit with people in coaching, and listen to family and friends and their various struggles, and watch my own process, too, I wonder what it is that gives us motivation to press onward. If you look around you, you will find individuals from all walks of life, slugging through some of life's most difficult trials, and finding their way -- in the way that they are able-- to light and new growth.
In the yogic lineage I have studied, life is seen as a place of purification, where all of our tendencies are burned, bit by bit, so that we can radiate out more of the love that is our true nature. In the Christian lineage, it is taught that we are also being changed into the likeness of God. Seen by these two lineages, life is a kind of refining fire, where what we can hope for is that as we are refined by life, we become more and more like the Pure Love that makes up our nature.
It takes spunk, I think, to take life's challenges as purification. It's easier, in some ways, to complain and rail against what comes our way. Or we want to run and hide, hoping this will trick fate to deal up something different for us.
But like the flowers in my window boxes, life can be simple, when you nestle up against a warm house, accepting the wind and the rain as part of it. These flowers have taken a beating this summer, with all of the rain. Yet look at them. They keep coming back. To them, life is simple. The rain comes, it damages many of the petals; the petals regrow. There is no question about re-growth. It happens, because it is the flower's nature to regrow.
To be like a flower. This is the state of No Mind. To understand problems and challenges as a state of grace, given for our own growth, would be to truly eliminate mental suffering. Growth follows because it is a natural outcome of hardship.
Question for you: What are your challenges? How are your challenges taking old patterns, old ways of being, old beliefs, and asking for something new? What is the new impulse that wants to emerge? Take just one challenge you might be facing, whether its a relationship, a financial situation, a work issue. What is being asked of you? How is your God Nature being called forward?
When framed in this way, challenges are a blessing in disguise. Not that the challenges aren't hard and sometimes very difficult, but that when framed correctly, we can accept the simplicity of what is being asked. Take some time to look for the blessing. Make it a treasure hunt. And if you can't find it, ask a friend or a mentor to help you on the hunt. The treasure is always there.
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