Coming home to rest

Movement is one part of life but to be in a state of no movement is also a substantial part of our life… The way we live, we go on collecting things on the material level, knowledge on the intellectual level, experience on the sensual and psychological level. We go on acquiring and the I, the Me, the Ego that goes on acquiring becomes stronger by every experience, with every achievement and we create an enclosure around us by our own knowledge, experience, possessions. In that enclosure we live and we feel secure in that. We live secluded, isolated from the Whole, because of the sense of possessions.

Meditation is a way of living that introduces us to that other part of our life. Meditation is coming home, to relax, to rest. If that takes place and one finds that though one has withdrawn and retired from activity, the inner movement goes on, thoughts come up, memories come up, then you begin to observe them. Till now you were busy carrying out functional roles, you were either the doer or the experience. From these two roles you have set yourself free voluntarily. You are now the observer. The inner movements come up, the involuntary movement comes up though the voluntary has been discontinued. You sit there quietly, you do not prepare to see, but if thoughts appear, then they are seen by you. It is a lovely state, the state of observation.

Vimala Thakar, Meditation In Daily Life

Being and doing

The weather these past days – heat followed by rain and then more heat – has meant that there is a surge of growth in the fields and along the hedgerows. As always,  I am surprised by its spontaneity and joyful abandon. We can see an unforced wild blossoming all around. In this poem we are asked to reflect on this natural growth and see if our restless planning and hectic schedule leaves any space for going out into the fields of possibility.

Consider the lilies of the field,
the blue banks of camas opening
into acres of sky along the road.
Would the longing to lie down
and be washed by that beauty
abate if you knew their usefulness,
how the natives ground bulbs
for flour, how the settler’s hogs
uprooted them, grunting in gleeful
oblivion as the flowers fell?
And you — what of your rushed and
useful life? Imagine setting it all down—
papers, plans, appointments, everything,
leaving only a note: “Gone to the fields
to be lovely. Be back when I’m through
with blooming.”
Even now, unneeded and uneaten,
the camas lilies gaze out above the grass from their tender blue eyes.
Even in sleep your life will shine.
Make no mistake. Of course, your work will always matter.
Yet Solomon in all his glory
was not arrayed like one of these.

Lynn Ungar, What we Share

Sunday Quote: Each moment

 

How we spend our days is,

of course,

how we spend our lives.

Annie Dilliard

Not being frightened by change

Deviations from the norm are either something we resist or welcome.  What determines our reaction is how much our “norm” includes the possibility of change, surprise, unexpected occurrences.  If sameness is a demand we make of our partner, our job, our children, our friends, our world, then we are going to be seriously challenged when the inevitable happens.   People grow; they evolve; change their minds, rethink their politics, get new jobs, move to different cities. They find new friends, gain or lose weight, take up yoga while we sit in front of the TV.  If we feel a loss or a threat from their growth, it is time to expand our sense of what “normal” is.

As the song says “Everything must Change. Nothing stays the same.”  The temporariness of form or experience is something we can rely upon, absolutely. It is in the variations of weather, the ups and downs of relationships, the shift from toddler to teen, the necessity of learning new skills, that keeps us in harmony with the nature of things.  A kind of non resisting ability to let things flow is a high awareness and a healthy way to live. Knowing that change will surely come, we are more likely to treasure the moment and celebrate it now.

Carol Carnes

Listening to the soul

Things do fall apart. It is in their nature to do so. When we try to protect ourselves from the inevitability of change, we are not listening to the soul. We are listening to our fear of life and death, our lack of faith, our smaller ego’s will to prevail. To listen to your soul is to stop fighting with life – to stop fighting when things fall apart; when they don’t go our way, when we get sick, when we are betrayed or mistreated or misunderstood. To listen to the soul is to slow down, to feel deeply, to see ourselves clearly, to surrender to discomfort and uncertainty and to wait.

Elisabeth Lesser.

Cultivating mental skills

Inner conflicts are often linked with excessive rumination on the past and anticipation of the future. You are not truly paying attention to the present moment, but are engrossed in your thoughts, going on and on in a vicious circle, feeding your ego and self-centeredness. This is the opposite of bare attention. To turn your attention inside means to look at pure awareness itself and dwell without distraction, yet effortlessly, in the present moment.

If you cultivate these mental skills, after a while you won’t need to apply contrived efforts anymore. You can deal with mental perturbations like the eagles I see from the window of my hermitage in the Himalayas deal with crows. The crows often attack them, diving at the eagles from above. But, instead of doing all kinds of acrobatics, the eagle simply retracts one wing at the last moment, lets the diving crow pass, and then extends its wing again. The whole thing requires minimal effort and causes little disturbance. Being experienced in dealing with the sudden arising of emotions in the mind works in a similar way.

Matthieu Ricard, This is your Brain on Bliss

Photo: Janis Ringuette