How we grow

Our practice throughout our lifetime is just this: At any given time we have a rigid viewpoint or stance about life; it includes some things, it excludes others. We may stick with it for a long time, but if we are sincerely practicing our practice itself will shake up that viewpoint; we can’t maintain it. As we begin to question our viewpoint we may feel upset, as we try to come to terms with this new insight into our life; and for a long time we may deny it and struggle against it. That’s part of practice. Finally we become willing to experience our suffering instead of fighting it. When we do so our standpoint, our vision of life, abruptly shifts. Then once again, with our new viewpoint, we go along for a while – until the cycle begins anew. Once again the unease comes up. And we have to struggle, to go through it again. Each time we do this – each time we go into the suffering and let it be – our vision of life enlarges. It’s like climbing a mountain. At each point that we ascend we see more; and that becomes broader with each cycle of climbing… And the more we see, the more expansive our vision, the more we know what to do.

Charlotte Joko Beck, Everyday Zen: Love and Work

What leads to growth

The spiritual path does not just consist of things that massage the ego or make the ego feel good and comfortable. The ego has to be continuously and repeatedly challenged in order for us to grow spiritually. One of the first things that the ego has to learn is that nothing in this world is stable or absolutely true.  In order to deal with [this]  effectively, we must cultivate five qualities in our meditation: courage, awareness, joy, love and compassion. Cultivating courage means that we have to have the willingness to allow ourselves to be in a depressed state; If depression is the state that we find ourselves in, we should not become alarmed and regard it as a sign of something terrible. This sort of courage is based on a fundamental conviction that we are capable of dealing with whatever it is that arises, rather than thinking that somehow or other what arises is going to have an adverse effect on us. When we start to think that our experience is going to affect us adversely, then fear, anxiety and all of those things come up. But when we are able to say, “Whatever arises is O.K.,” we do not have to be so self-protective. By allowing the depressive mood to be there — if that is what comes up — we are showing courage. If we have that kind of courage we are not harmed. More damage is done by hiding behind our illusions and delusions; when we do that, the conflicting emotions become insidious.

Traleg Kyabgon Rinpoche, Depression’s Truth

A thought to go with the weather

There are times that are cold and cutting and empty, times when the spring of new beginnings seems like a distant dream. Those rhythms in life are natural events. They weave into one another as day follows night, bringing, not messages of hope and fear, but messages of how things are. If you realize that each phase of your life is a natural occurrence, then you need not be swayed, pushed up and down by the changes in circumstance and mood that life brings. You find that you have an opportunity to be fully in the world at all times and to show yourself as a brave and proud individual in any circumstance.

Chogyam Trungpa

Under the snow

DSCN0239Since we have our first snow and our first hard frost, and the seeds within the hardened earth lie and wait:

In fall the cricket beneath the rose bush
watches as the roses fall to the very ground that is his kingdom also.

So they’re neighbors, one full of fragrance,
the other the harper of a single dry song.

 We call this time of the year
the beginning of the end of another circle,

a convenience and nothing more.

For the cricket’s song
is surely a prayer,
and a prayer, when it is given, is given forever.

This is a truth I’m sure of, for I’m older than I used to be,

and therefore I understand things
nobody would think of
who’s young and in a hurry.

The snow is very beautiful. Under it are the lingering
petals of fragrance, and the timeless body of prayer.

Mary Oliver, The Cricket and the Rose

Patient waiting

The first snow of the winter fell here this morning, covering the garden and making life harder for the birds as they search for feed.  It will accelerate the movement towards Nature’s resting and waiting,  which this year has been postponed due to the mild autumn. We can learn from this cyclical process, which reminds us of necessary elements in our lives also, especially when we pass through moments of difficulty or transition. Sometimes resting and not knowing is natural and waiting is the wisest thing  we can do.

I am a book of snow,
a spacious hand, an open meadow,
a circle that waits,
I belong to the earth and its winter.

Paolo Neruda

Two tasks

There is much evidence on several levels that there are at least two major tasks to human life. The first task is to build a strong “container” or identity; the second is to find the contents that the container was meant to hold. The first task we take for granted as the very purpose of life, which does not mean that we do it well. The second task is encountered more than sought; few arrive at it with much preplanning, purpose or passion. We are a”first-half-of-life-culture”,  largely concerned with surviving successfully. We all try to do what seems like the task that life first hands to us: establishing an identity, a home, relationships, a family, community, security and building a proper platform for our only life. But it takes us much longer to discover “the task within the task” as I like to call it: what we are really doing when we are doing what we are doing.

Richard Rohr, Falling Upward.