Being born, again

Today, February 1st, is the start of Spring in the old Celtic and Gaelic calendar. It was the Celtic feast of Imbolc,  which centred around the lighting of fires. This was a celebration of the lengthening days and the early signs of Spring, a sigh of relief that the winter was finally beginning to end. It is the time for getting rid of the old and beginning again, the start of a period of planting, growth and birth. We can start again. We are not trapped by our past but have choices. The days are beginning to lengthen, the sun’s light beginning to warm the earth.  These ideas were taken into the Christian calendar with the celebration of light which is February 2nd, Candlemas. Traditionally,  we light a candle on these days, symbolizing that a milestone has been passed in our difficulties and in the long winter. Light overcoming darkness, warmth replacing cold, new growth beginning to appear. We look forward in hope.

For last year’s words
belong to last year’s language
and next year’s words
await another voice.

And to make an end
is to make a beginning

T.S. Eliot

Living life more fiercely

Yeats’ quote could almost be written about meditation.

I love the way he says we can life a “fiercer” life by touching into calm, or seeing what is truly important, by simplifying things down to the essential.

We can make our minds so like still water that beings gather about us that they may see, it may be, their own images, and so live for a moment with a clearer, perhaps even with a fiercer life because of our quiet.

W B Yeats

On how to turn the mind into a friend

Learning to be present for the moment is the beginning. By sitting still and training the mind to be with the breath, we begin to relax our discursiveness. We see how the mind creates our solid sense of self and begin to discover the mind’s natural state of being. With this experience we can being to cultivate our garden. The flowers of love compassion and wisdom gradually take over, and the weeds of anger,  jealousy and self-involvement have less and less room to grow. In peaceful abiding we become familiar with the ground of basic goodness. This is how we turn the mind into an ally.

Sakyong Mipham,  Turning the Mind into an Ally

Work with your day as it is

To practice we must see exactly where we are. Of course we can always imagine perfect conditions, how it should be ideally, how everyone else should behave. But it’s not our task to create an ideal. It’s our task to see how it is and to learn from the world as it is. For the awakening of the heart, conditions are always good enough.

Ajahn Sumedho

Support in times of difficulty

This week celebrates the feast of Saint Anthony, the founder of monastic practice in the Western Church. He went out into the desert at a young age to remove himself from some of the normal distractions in order to pay attention to what is really necessary. Most wisdom traditions have some reference to desert places, or retreats,  as a time for deepening or as a symbol for certain periods in our lives. We can have periods when we enter our own deserts and are forced to re-evaluate what is important and see what is really needed.

Deserts can be lonely and bleak places, however. So one of my favourite desert stories is that of Elijah who, in a period of danger, ran away into the barren desert. Elijah was a strong, forceful character, but after a setback in his ministry, he lost heart and became frightened. He  had no more motivation and lay down in the shade of a tree, wishing he would die. However what he found was that an  angel touched him gently and gave him bread baked on coals and water, telling him to eat in order to continue on his journey. He ate but had only the energy to sleep again. Again the angel gently touched him and encouraged him on his journey. Eventually Elijah rose and walked for forty days and nights to the Mountain of God.

As I have said before, these stories can be read on a number of levels.  Elijah is like a lot of us when events or people turn against us. It can lead us to doubt ourselves and the direction we have taken. Sometimes we feel we cannot go on anymore.  We may feel totally alone in the world. It is at that point, that frequently an “angel” comes to comfort and support us, someone whose encouragement or understanding simply gives us the strength to go on. An angel is a companion on our journey, sometimes a person, sometimes  other circumstances.  This angel is gentle and wakes Elijah up slowly. In our lives we notice that often others do not give up on us as easily as we give up on ourselves.  They are patient with us. I have found that they come into our lives at moments of difficulty, when we need consolation and comfort, restoring our trust, bringing us back to ourselves. At our deepest level having someone to share our hopes and fears with is what refreshes us most.

This presence becomes the nourishment we need at that time. In the story the angel brings bread baked on coals, symbolizing the ashes of the past experience. The angel opens our eyes and shows us what is right beside us to eat, which we had not seen up to that point. We have strengths within us that we are unaware of. Even in the desert of our difficulties there is bread. With the support from others, encouraged, we move on for forty days –  forty being the biblical number for transformation – leaving behind the past, moving on to a deeper sense of self.

Picture: Elijah in the Desert, Michael O’Brien.

How life is full of mysteries

Went walking this morning early in the forest around the Sources of the Allendon. It was particularly beautiful in the early morning light. The freshness of nature, the trees covered in moss, the noise of the river and the familiarity of the place relaxed and softened my heart. Nature is often like that: It creates those  moments when we connect and feel spacious. It is not so easy in our everyday life with people: we have learnt to contract and pull away. The beauty of the walk brought to mind this poem by Mary Oliver:

Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
to be understood.

How grass can be nourishing in the mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity, while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds
will never be broken.

How people come, from delight or the
scars of damage, to the comfort of a poem.

Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.

Let me keep company always with those who say
“Look!” and laugh in astonishment,
and bow their heads.

Mary Oliver, Mysteries, Yes