An invitation

 

Yesterday, I went to my local drug store to purchase a thermometer for a loved one who was spiking a fever at home. Walking down the aisles, bare shelves yawned: small tags whispered of toilet paper, hand sanitizer, gloves, thermometers. Asking the pharmacist, he repeated perhaps for the hundredth time that day, “All gone… I’m sorry”. On the street as I drove home, I noticed these signs: a young man stopped to stuff a dollar bill into the can of a street person. A truck flashed its lights at me, yielding for me to turn. Traffic halted for two geese to waddle slowly across four lanes of parkway. This strange moment in time is eliciting unexpected acts of kindness, even while we feel as if we’re in a dream.

We are sitting with the unknown. The unknown is exactly what pulls back the veil. Illness and death are life’s great equalizers. A fever is a fever. A virus seeks a host. We are all potentially at risk. We are all trying to quell the spread. Together.

The Buddha emphasized that if there is something that can absolutely be counted on, it is that nothing can be counted on. Life has always been so. But I forget, most every moment of every day. Lulled by the predictability of my days, I believe that tomorrow will be just like today. Today just like yesterday. The toilet paper will be there.

Fear is an invitation. It is not an invitation to weigh risks or to adjust the externals. It is an invitation to look deeply within and befriend the animal in oneself.

We are sitting with the unknown. The unknown is exactly what pulls back the veil. It offers a glimpse the truth that nothing has ever been certain. This world with all its beauty and all its vibrancy is just so because it is not fixed, because everything is contingent. Life’s natural cousin is uncertainty. The final gift, the one that I keep returning to in these shadowy days, is kindness. A pandemic is a common (pan) experience. We are in this together. We can face it together and we can help one another get through it. Ironically the “social distancing” we are asked to practice is a call to care. It is not a request made for oneself; it is an act of public good.

In a pandemic, self-isolation is called quarantine. In Buddhism, it is called retreat.

From the cave of our home, like the meditators of ancient times, we can consciously kindle the lamp of compassion and connection.

Lama Willa B Miller, Living in this Strange Moment Together

Keeping the heart open

It is not easy to keep the heart open in moments of fear and anxiety

The covenant of life is not just to stay alive, but to stay in our aliveness. And staying in aliveness depends on opening the heart and keeping it open. Our dreams, goals, and ambitions are all kindling, fuel for the heart to exercise its aliveness, to bring our gift into the world, to discover what matters.

We drift in and out of knowing our aliveness. Pain, worry, fear, and loss can muffle and confuse us. But finding our gift and working it will bring us back alive. It doesn’t matter if we’re skillful or clumsy, if we play our gift well or awkwardly, or if we make great strides or fail. Aliveness is not a judge in a talent show. Aliveness shows itself in response to wholeheartedness, when we can say yes to life, and work with what we’re given, and stay in relationship – to everything.

Mark Nepo, The One Life We’re Given: Finding the Wisdom That Waits in Your Heart

Seeing what we stand on

Some words from poet David Whyte in these anxious times

GROUND is what lies beneath our feet. It is the place where we already stand; a state of recognition, the place or the circumstances to which we belong whether we wish to or not. It is what holds and supports us, but also what we do not want to be true; it is what challenges us, physically or psychologically, irrespective of our hoped-for needs. It is the living, underlying foundation that tells us what we are, where we are, what season we are in and what, no matter what we wish in the abstract, is about to happen in our body; in the world or in the conversation between the two.

To come to ground is to find a home in circumstances and in the very physical body we inhabit in the midst of those circumstances and above all to face the truth, no matter how difficult that truth may be; to come to ground is to begin the courageous conversation, to step into difficulty and by taking that first step, begin the movement through all difficulties, to find the support and foundation that has been beneath our feet all along: a place to step onto, a place on which to stand and a place from which to step.  

from Consolations:  The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words.

I don’t think any of us can quite understand the ground on to which we are now settling, due to to the effects of the Coronavirus on our world-wide societies and economies. … This will be a test and a re-ordering, not only of our health and our political and financial systems, but of of our mutual compassion, our willingness to work together and even more perhaps, our willingness to fundamentally change our societies to a more equatable sharing of both rewards and well-being.

from his Facebook page, March 11th 

A Blessing for this day

An unusual St Patrick’s Day when people are fearful, and gatherings are not allowed, in church or in the pub. We need to find resources and blessings within and then extend those blessings to all who are afraid and especially those most vulnerable at this time. 

When the canvas frays in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow wind work these words
of love around you, an invisible cloak to mind your life.

John O’Donohue, Beannacht

Beannachtai na Féile Padraig oraibh go léir: The blessings of  Saint Patrick’s Day to you all.

Working with our anxieties

We can never solve our lives. Life is not a thing that can be broken and then fixed. Life is a process, and we can never solve a process. We can only participate in this process, either consciously or unconsciously. We aren’t going to find the perfect formula and then coast our way through life. We can’t make pain go away, although we can reduce unnecessary suffering significantly. The more deeply we investigate, the less we can grasp or even know this apparent self that Western psychology takes as its foundation. From the Buddhist perspective, the nature of life — and of our own mind — is basically open. There is no foundation; no ground to stand on. We can consciously participate in this open nature, but we can’t know it.

Bruce Tift, How to Work with Anxiety on the Path of Liberation

Sunday Quote: Feeding

We have a choice these days: to feed our fear – and there is a lot being spread on social media – or to drop the mind into moments of rest…

When we meditate, we are training the mind

to stop feeding a pain pattern

Ruth King, author and Meditation teacher, Soothing the Hot Coals of Rage