Learning from the season – let go

Now is the end of summer, harvest time. From that point of view, [Fall ] is a chance to harvest the results of whatever has happened in our lives this year…To be a student of meditation is to take to heart that short-term fixes are usually illusions. To make real change, we need an actual path. Any genuine path takes time.  Most of the time, we simply want to practice more things than we can practice, take on more than we can take on, achieve more than is possible to achieve. This is especially true if you live in an exciting and overstimulating city. The wish to do more things than we can actually do comes from a positive place –  it’s because we love life, recognize impermanence and want to experience as much as we possibly can before it all slips on by. That’s why we end up doing WAY too many things and driving ourselves nuts with busy-ness. Sadly, when we try to do everything, we find ourselves doing much less than if we just took on a few things. 

Here’s the exercise in simplicity that I often introduce to students when I work with them closely. Let’s say that each day you can only do five things. Each of these five things must be done with the view of a practice, a process that we engage in to develop our heartminds and cultivate the qualities we want to embody in this precious and not-long-enough life of ours. You can only do five practices every day. Not six, not eight. Five.

Let’s assume for the purpose of this exercise that the basics – such as food, shelter, and medicine –  are all taken care of each day. Let’s assume that after that, you can do five things, each of which is viewed as a practice, which means each is a process where daily engagement in the process is considered more important than outcome. If you only had five practices for the fall, what would they be?

Ethan Nichtern, “A Meditation for the Fall”,  Huffington Post

An intimate awareness of an overall process

Aware of my body, I breathe in. Relaxing my body, I breathe out.
Calming my body, I breathe in. Caring for my body, I breathe out

Thich Nhat Hahn

Breathing is the movement of life, the vital process that connects the body with its environment. The more we open and deepen awareness of the breath and the body, the m0re we understand the intrinsic dynamism of our entire experience. Nothing stands still for a moment. Breath, heartbeat, body, feelings, thoughts, environment are facts of an indivisible, interactive system, no part of which can really be claimed as “me” or “mine”

Stephen Batchelor, Buddhism without Beliefs.

Take a step back

The life view of getting things done and getting ahead moves in one direction; stepping back does not seem to be in accord with that view. It’s non-productive, so we don’t have time for it. But what we realize is that if we don’t step back , time has us. We are on the run, on the treadmill of work, career and getting ahead; on the vehicle of what we can get out of life, a vehicle that’s driven by a blind driver. But if we can’t afford ten minutes or even five minutes, that blind driver is going to stay in the driver’s seat. If we can step back, and not be anything or be nothing – not adopting some view that life’s a waste of time, but just curtail being wasted by time –  then there is room for a subtle inner light to dawn. For a moment we can stop putting the pressure on, and stop running to find something to be filled by.

Ajahn Sucitto, Turning the Wheel of Truth.

Sunday Quote: Imitate the Trees

Imitate the trees.

Learn to lose in order to recover, and remember that nothing stays the same for long, not even pain.

May Sarton

Autumn and maturity

It’s no coincidence that autumn and authenticity are linguistic cousins. Both share the Latin root aut-, meaning [to increase or grow.] Autumn brings the harvest bounty: the earth’s increase. Authenticity brings the reward of increased self-knowledge and awareness, of a life augmented (another word cousin!) through integrity. As autumn represents the ripening of the crops, so authenticity represents the coming into maturity of our characters. The link is gratitude, which allows us to ground ourselves in humility and recognize our authentic nature. When we live gratefully, we become more truly ourselves.

Alan Jones et al., Seasons of Grace: The Life-Giving Practice of Gratitude.

Autumn Dawns

The ancient rhythms of the earth have insinuated themselves into the rhythms of the human heart. The earth is not outside us; it is within: the clay from where the tree of the body grows. When we emerge from our offices, rooms and houses, we enter our natural element. We are children of the earth: people to whom the outdoors is home. Nothing can separate us from the vigor and vibrancy of this inheritance. In contract to our frenetic, saturated lives, the earth offers a calming stillness. Movement and growth in nature takes its time. The patience of nature enjoys the ease of trust and hope. There is something in our clay nature that needs to continually experience this ancient, outer ease of the world. It helps us remember who we are and why we are here.

John O’Donohue