I'm standing on this edge, a cliff actually, and I've been walking towards it for years. I’m here now only to find this monstrous edge I thought I would have to climb is actually a vista, a jumping off point. Its open space here, desolate, in fact, and there is nowhere to hide. The winding path that brought me here drifted through dark forest, churning ocean, dry sand and the way back is no longer open. And so I sit down, cross-legged, right here on the edge to think.
I see the history that came before, the experiences that shaped me. They well up as images seared in my brain. I have them memorized and sometimes I answer from that place out of habit, and I laugh, because even I don't buy that I fit there anymore. And, yet, it plays out before me, again and again. So, my cross-legged stance of patience holds me. “What is the story showing?” I sit back and watch it like a movie, and I sense this greater context beginning to unfold and budding wings itching just beneath my skin.
The movie shows me countless scenarios, skipping backwards, forwards, sideways, and I see the thread that weaves this particular story together. My leaders, my guides, my family; they were all asleep at the wheel. The abandonment and invalidation I carried like a black sack of bricks was never mine. It was theirs and they didn’t know what to do with it either, so they went to sleep. I sigh with relief as I watch the thread beginning to unravel. I hear a child’s whisper escape from my own lips, “You mean it wasn’t me?”
“What a lack of trust we develop when our elders don’t know they have fallen asleep and don’t even know they don’t know,” I murmur to myself. I look up and notice a scattering of other watchers, seeing their own stories play out, and I relax a bit. My eyebrows go up in surprise, “Maybe its not so remote here,” I think, and I turn back to the show.
On screen, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. A child without the skills to truly navigate the ocean of humanity and society, waiting for direction—asking for it, even—and finding out she’s maybe more than a little lost. “Hmmm, that explains all the fear.” Confidence lacking in those around me, responsibility squarely on my shoulders and a looming sense of blame. Another thread emerges, this one tinged with the color of overwhelm, anger and self-doubt. I reach back and scratch between my shoulder blades.
I watch giant after giant fall leaving gaping canyons of open space. I see myself picking every means of filling them: I stuff them with self-pity, I spakle over them with I-can-do-it-alone, I back fill them with I can’t. “Holy Shit!” I jump up and stare blankly past the screen and into the space of open memory. “I’ve been asleep too!” Refocusing my eyes, I look at the wide canyon floor beneath the cliff, then sit back down. I pick up a white feather sitting next to me and stroke it along my again crossed legs.
Movie’s back on. Color seems different now, as if what I’d been watching before was in black and white. Each giant that fell is still echoing in my mind and in the story the earth is vibrating with it. “Yes,” mother earth says, “Good.” And I see how she had been trying to wake me up all these years. The breeze blows, it lifts me up a bit and I flex my shoulders to sit back down.
The story shows a little baby bird, so exhausted with being invisible. She hid and hid because she did not trust, she did not feel safe, she did not ever learn her own voice. I see her now, cradle her in my hands, stroke her softness. Tears of love and understanding overflow and I pinch my eyes shut. “All she wants is to be seen,” I think, “All she wants is to be true to her own unique and beautiful nature and converse with the world from that place.” I open my eyes, the screen is gone. The soft breeze caresses the last tears from my cheeks. I stand up take two steps and fly.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Agents of Change
Yesterday was the holiday celebrating one of the greatest leaders of our time, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Every year on this holiday I watch video of his inspirational “I Have A Dream” speech. He was an incredible activist for social change, someone who stood for moral virtue, for freedom, equality and for leaving the world a better place than he found it.
As humans I believe we are all seekers and agents of change. We are naturally curious and want to understand how things work. We want things to be better, easier, happier and healthier. We want to know how to play sports, to be better parents, to learn to read and write or to sing. I believe we are hard-wired to grow and hard-wired to survive. We come to this body and this life and we are met with challenge as well as joy. And whether we seek to understand why we are here or how the engine of a car makes it go, we are all filled with some level of seeking, wanting to understand and the capacity for growth that invites change.
The world is transient. Seasons come and go, our bodies age, our hearts swell with love, and then get broken open. And it is these very challenges that often inspire the most transformation; there is no way around the friction of it.
For more than half of my life my mom battled cancer. We loved each other deeply, and as I watched her fight five different bouts of cancer our lives went to many extremes. From the onset, she refused to think that cancer would be her end, and I do believe this was much of the fighting spirit that had doctors in shock at her survival. And, yet, from my perspective, there was an unwillingness on her part to dig into the reality of what was happening. Even after years of fighting, she left no will, no note, no goodbye and no closure for those of us still on earth.
Watching her denial in the face of such extreme conditions was one of the catalysts that motivated change in my life. I experienced the suffering and ultimately chose to honor the gift of grace that my life is. That response wasn’t immediate, but the end result was my commitment to live a mindful and present life. Her tragedy taught me to honor the temple of my body by loving myself, getting regular exercise, eating a healthy diet and surrounding myself with people who support and nurture me. And it was largely because of this childhood that I became an activist.
For years I turned the word activist around and around in my mind, seeking to relate to it in my life. The word, itself, conjures up angry freedom fighters, motoring a tiny raft before giant whaling ships or marching in Tiananmen Square. But that's not me, I thought, I'm no activist, I'm not risking being arrested or endangering my own life to stand for a cause.
But over time I realized I am an agent of change. I do take a stand on my beliefs. I'm not picketing with signs or throwing molotov cocktails, but I’m still an activist. I'm an activist for radical honesty. I'm an activist for unconditional love, both for myself and others. I'm an activist for living a spiritual life, not just talking about it. Every day I get up committed to loving life even in the face of its friction, even in the face of tragedy.
I recently watched the award-winning documentary The Cove, about the senseless and brutal slaughter of dolphins in Japan. The lead character and agent of change in the film is Ric O'Barry. For the popular 1960’s TV show “Flipper,” which was all about a dolphin who befriends humans, Ric O’Barry was the head dolphin trainer. He worked with five female dolphins who shared the role of Flipper. He spoke emotionally in The Cove about the suicide of the main dolphin, Kathy. Dolphins have to breathe voluntarily and Ric said that Kathy swam into his arms, took a breath and let it be her last. She died in his arms, then sank to the floor of the tank that had been her prison. The very next day Ric was arrested for trying to free dolphins that were in being held in captivity, rebelling against the very source of his own livelihood.
Just like Ric, none of us plan to be activists. But we are going to be riled to anger, we will be filled with love. We are going to have strong emotional responses to experiences. Life is going to ask us to grow, to change and to evolve. What catalysts have sparked change in you? Have you welcomed those moments of intensity and become an activist of change in your own life? What do you stand for on which you are unwilling to bend? It doesn’t have to be angry, it doesn’t even have to be beyond your back yard. Each of us is an activist of some sort. Whether you save water by turning it off to soap up in the shower or you bring a reusable bag to the grocery store, you stand for something with the choices you make every single moment.
I am grateful for people like Ric O’Barry who when asked, “How many times have you been arrested?” respond, “This year?” And I am grateful for you for standing up for what you believe in, for being an activist and an agent of change.
As humans I believe we are all seekers and agents of change. We are naturally curious and want to understand how things work. We want things to be better, easier, happier and healthier. We want to know how to play sports, to be better parents, to learn to read and write or to sing. I believe we are hard-wired to grow and hard-wired to survive. We come to this body and this life and we are met with challenge as well as joy. And whether we seek to understand why we are here or how the engine of a car makes it go, we are all filled with some level of seeking, wanting to understand and the capacity for growth that invites change.
The world is transient. Seasons come and go, our bodies age, our hearts swell with love, and then get broken open. And it is these very challenges that often inspire the most transformation; there is no way around the friction of it.
For more than half of my life my mom battled cancer. We loved each other deeply, and as I watched her fight five different bouts of cancer our lives went to many extremes. From the onset, she refused to think that cancer would be her end, and I do believe this was much of the fighting spirit that had doctors in shock at her survival. And, yet, from my perspective, there was an unwillingness on her part to dig into the reality of what was happening. Even after years of fighting, she left no will, no note, no goodbye and no closure for those of us still on earth.
Watching her denial in the face of such extreme conditions was one of the catalysts that motivated change in my life. I experienced the suffering and ultimately chose to honor the gift of grace that my life is. That response wasn’t immediate, but the end result was my commitment to live a mindful and present life. Her tragedy taught me to honor the temple of my body by loving myself, getting regular exercise, eating a healthy diet and surrounding myself with people who support and nurture me. And it was largely because of this childhood that I became an activist.
For years I turned the word activist around and around in my mind, seeking to relate to it in my life. The word, itself, conjures up angry freedom fighters, motoring a tiny raft before giant whaling ships or marching in Tiananmen Square. But that's not me, I thought, I'm no activist, I'm not risking being arrested or endangering my own life to stand for a cause.
But over time I realized I am an agent of change. I do take a stand on my beliefs. I'm not picketing with signs or throwing molotov cocktails, but I’m still an activist. I'm an activist for radical honesty. I'm an activist for unconditional love, both for myself and others. I'm an activist for living a spiritual life, not just talking about it. Every day I get up committed to loving life even in the face of its friction, even in the face of tragedy.
I recently watched the award-winning documentary The Cove, about the senseless and brutal slaughter of dolphins in Japan. The lead character and agent of change in the film is Ric O'Barry. For the popular 1960’s TV show “Flipper,” which was all about a dolphin who befriends humans, Ric O’Barry was the head dolphin trainer. He worked with five female dolphins who shared the role of Flipper. He spoke emotionally in The Cove about the suicide of the main dolphin, Kathy. Dolphins have to breathe voluntarily and Ric said that Kathy swam into his arms, took a breath and let it be her last. She died in his arms, then sank to the floor of the tank that had been her prison. The very next day Ric was arrested for trying to free dolphins that were in being held in captivity, rebelling against the very source of his own livelihood.
Just like Ric, none of us plan to be activists. But we are going to be riled to anger, we will be filled with love. We are going to have strong emotional responses to experiences. Life is going to ask us to grow, to change and to evolve. What catalysts have sparked change in you? Have you welcomed those moments of intensity and become an activist of change in your own life? What do you stand for on which you are unwilling to bend? It doesn’t have to be angry, it doesn’t even have to be beyond your back yard. Each of us is an activist of some sort. Whether you save water by turning it off to soap up in the shower or you bring a reusable bag to the grocery store, you stand for something with the choices you make every single moment.
I am grateful for people like Ric O’Barry who when asked, “How many times have you been arrested?” respond, “This year?” And I am grateful for you for standing up for what you believe in, for being an activist and an agent of change.
Monday, January 10, 2011
The Art of Listening
I’m a talker; I can’t help it. I love life and it excites me. I want to dissect it, understand it, feel it, dance with it, know it and most of all, share it with others. I get so inspired that words just flow. And sometimes they flow, and flow, and flow. I don’t mean to, but it must be the inner tantrika in me coming out. It is our way to savor all that life has to offer and to then bring that experience back to share it with our community. In the sharing we really develop deeper understanding and the whole group can rise up together on the shared knowledge. Talking is great, but so is listening, and the two definitely need to be in relationship with each other.
Tantra is always about relationship, whether global, communal, interpersonal or with our own self. In tantric philosophy, relationship will always be thought of in threes. You, me and the space in between us. In yoga, we talk about this in-between space as the mid-line, as the place where the God and Goddess—Shiva and Shakti—become one. This in-between space is where the two halves connect and wholeness is remembered. Tantra sees the relationship between things as paramount, because at the core, everything is Shiva-Shakti, and the goal is not only to see the Divine beauty in everything but also to bring the two in balance as one.
The sweet pause between the two halves of the whole is a place of stillness and silence. Think about it as the moment between the exhale and the inhale, between night and day or as the eye to eye and heart to heart connection you share with your beloved right before you kiss. These are quiet moments, indeed. And, yet, we frequently fail to pause and listen long enough to make a connection.
If tantra is about relationship, then yoga is always about connection. To put it simply, when we fail to make a connection we are creating suffering or dukha. When we make strong and deep connections then we create ease or sukha. To create strong and deep connections, listening is essential.
For a talker like me, this skill has been one I’ve had to learn and one I continue to practice regularly. About a year ago I began video taping myself teaching yoga classes. The first couple videos I watched, I was shocked at my talkativeness and kept thinking to myself as I viewed them, “Stop talking already!” By editing what doesn’t really need saying, I’ve learned that fewer words have a much more profound impact. I hear myself breathing with my students now and it gives them the time to reflect in their practice and it also helps me be more present with them. But what has most helped me to be a better listener and less of a talker is having people in my life who actually listen to me.
Funny thing is when I finally felt heard by someone who loves me, I stopped having so much to say! I realized that we all have the power to give this gift to each other. When we listen with an open mind and a courageous heart that is free of judgment we are showing the person speaking that we care about them. We value what they think and what they say by hearing them. We are noticing them and stepping into this middle space of listening that not only creates relationship, but also connection.
So what can we do to practice being better listeners? First, stop talking so much. It sounds easy, but if you get excited about life and want to share like I do, it can take a bit of practice. When you do talk, don’t just talk about yourself. Try to meet the person you are conversing with where they are. Ask them questions about themselves or their day that you have an interest in, then give them the space to answer. And, please, make eye contact. Put down your phone, your ipod, your book, your utensil. Turn the TV off, close your computer and be present. Create the space for connection that could improve your relationship and foster ease, instead of suffering.
At first it may feel uncomfortable. There may be silence that you aren’t used to, but be patient and don’t try to fill it. In the silence there is still much being “said.” In the silence we hear what our own heart is whispering to us. In the silence we pause and experience beauty without labeling it or putting it into some kind of box. In the silence we reconnect with the Highest. In the silence we feel love.
Tantra is always about relationship, whether global, communal, interpersonal or with our own self. In tantric philosophy, relationship will always be thought of in threes. You, me and the space in between us. In yoga, we talk about this in-between space as the mid-line, as the place where the God and Goddess—Shiva and Shakti—become one. This in-between space is where the two halves connect and wholeness is remembered. Tantra sees the relationship between things as paramount, because at the core, everything is Shiva-Shakti, and the goal is not only to see the Divine beauty in everything but also to bring the two in balance as one.
The sweet pause between the two halves of the whole is a place of stillness and silence. Think about it as the moment between the exhale and the inhale, between night and day or as the eye to eye and heart to heart connection you share with your beloved right before you kiss. These are quiet moments, indeed. And, yet, we frequently fail to pause and listen long enough to make a connection.
If tantra is about relationship, then yoga is always about connection. To put it simply, when we fail to make a connection we are creating suffering or dukha. When we make strong and deep connections then we create ease or sukha. To create strong and deep connections, listening is essential.
For a talker like me, this skill has been one I’ve had to learn and one I continue to practice regularly. About a year ago I began video taping myself teaching yoga classes. The first couple videos I watched, I was shocked at my talkativeness and kept thinking to myself as I viewed them, “Stop talking already!” By editing what doesn’t really need saying, I’ve learned that fewer words have a much more profound impact. I hear myself breathing with my students now and it gives them the time to reflect in their practice and it also helps me be more present with them. But what has most helped me to be a better listener and less of a talker is having people in my life who actually listen to me.
Funny thing is when I finally felt heard by someone who loves me, I stopped having so much to say! I realized that we all have the power to give this gift to each other. When we listen with an open mind and a courageous heart that is free of judgment we are showing the person speaking that we care about them. We value what they think and what they say by hearing them. We are noticing them and stepping into this middle space of listening that not only creates relationship, but also connection.
So what can we do to practice being better listeners? First, stop talking so much. It sounds easy, but if you get excited about life and want to share like I do, it can take a bit of practice. When you do talk, don’t just talk about yourself. Try to meet the person you are conversing with where they are. Ask them questions about themselves or their day that you have an interest in, then give them the space to answer. And, please, make eye contact. Put down your phone, your ipod, your book, your utensil. Turn the TV off, close your computer and be present. Create the space for connection that could improve your relationship and foster ease, instead of suffering.
At first it may feel uncomfortable. There may be silence that you aren’t used to, but be patient and don’t try to fill it. In the silence there is still much being “said.” In the silence we hear what our own heart is whispering to us. In the silence we pause and experience beauty without labeling it or putting it into some kind of box. In the silence we reconnect with the Highest. In the silence we feel love.
Monday, November 8, 2010
The Empty Bowl
Mind is a funny thing. She is always looking for separation, difference, quality, inequality, right and wrong. And I am grateful, because it is this discernment that let’s me know hot from cold and my house from yours. (Imagine if we just walked into any old house!?) But if mind is left unchecked she is no longer useful but instead problematic. If she looks for difference so much that she cannot see love, beauty and compassion, then she is simply creating separation, isolation and suffering.
Whenever I go through a big internal or emotional transformation, the shift often leaves me grappling with this feeling of difference and separation. The old me was comfortable and the ground around me was familiar. I knew how to respond to the vicissitudes of life and I could easily observe the mind when she would slip in obtrusively. The new way, while still settling in, feels awkward—like a sore thumb—and uncomfortable. When I am acclimating to the new me, I can’t always easily differentiate between what is in my mind (ego looking for separation) and what is in my heart (spirit seeing unity).
Having just undergone a huge shift I was in the confounded state and really wanted to get back to me, so today I employed a couple of new techniques. In meditation, I sat with a beautiful raku bowl in my hands. Into it I poured all of the thoughts of confusion, separation, frustration, contracting, irritation and sadness. Anytime a thought, person or image arose that was, for lack of a better word, messy, I would drop it into the empty space of the bowl.
Held by the Goddess Kali on my altar, this bowl has the ability to absorb and transmute anything and everything that I place in it. And as such, this practice became sacred as a returning of thought back into the vast formless space of Source. A key distinction is the placing of these chitta vrittis (confusing and fluctuating thoughts) as an offering rather than as a way to purge something that is wrong. There is no wrong part as the essence of each of us is good, it is Divine. There is nothing absent from any of us, nor is there something that we must excise. We are, in this practice, not trying to get out of this earthly and embodied existence, but simply allowing the fluctuations to happen, letting go of control and stepping into the currents of grace.
I let go more and more in my practice, allowing the dross to float to the surface and leaving the new, more refined me clearly in the cross hairs of my heart’s vision. And here I began the second technique; I focused on unconditional love. Not love coming from me, not my personal preferences for things I love and things I don’t (that would be mind again, it has its purpose, just not here) but love coming through me. Two ways I tap into this greater love are through gratitude and through service.
So I started to recall all of the things, events and people for which I am grateful. At first it felt a little canned, full of more effort and less feeling, and I was seeing broad sweeps of information. I am grateful for all the people who love me, I am in gratitude for the roof over my head and the food in my belly. As I continued, the feelings began to flow freely, warm and true, and the gratitude became more specific. I am grateful for the family who hosted me on my trip to New Mexico, I am grateful that my body is beautiful and healthy.
The more I looked for the gifts in my life, the more gifts I saw. The more gifts I thanked the Goddess for, the more empowered I felt to serve. A natural transition occurred out of the effulgence of love in the form of gratitude. With so much to be grateful for, how could I not share it with others?
I returned the bowl to the altar and opened my palms towards the sky. Floating them above my legs I held them open to direction, suggesting to mind that she remain open to the conversation with Love. How best to offer my unique and personal gifts to the world? I was reminded that this conversation exists in every moment. The gift of life or grace is the empty bowl, our bodies and minds the vessels through which love collects, empties out and is offered.
Making the body-mind a stronger vessel is a key practice of yoga. To make the bowl cleaner, more able to weather the transformations and able channel Love will just give the Love a bigger and brighter place to collect. Unconditional Love, for me, is just another name for God and it lives through and as each of us. When we open the flow on the faucet and allow it to run, we can dam it up over here or let it flow freely over there. We direct the flow in service, in making offerings of love and expressing our love through gratitude. For God-Goddess to live in this world He-She must move through us.
How we connect, what fills us and how we channel the energy of Unconditional Love is totally unique to each of us. It is our freedom to decide what to do with it, if anything at all. There are so many means available to us, so many ways to have sadhana (or spiritual practice). I just learned two new ones today simply by letting the process unfold.
May you recognize the gifts of your life, your heart and body-mind and offer a place for the Love to reside and move through you. May your bowl forever be both empty enough to hold more and yet always full of the ever-flowing Divine Unconditional Love.
Whenever I go through a big internal or emotional transformation, the shift often leaves me grappling with this feeling of difference and separation. The old me was comfortable and the ground around me was familiar. I knew how to respond to the vicissitudes of life and I could easily observe the mind when she would slip in obtrusively. The new way, while still settling in, feels awkward—like a sore thumb—and uncomfortable. When I am acclimating to the new me, I can’t always easily differentiate between what is in my mind (ego looking for separation) and what is in my heart (spirit seeing unity).
Having just undergone a huge shift I was in the confounded state and really wanted to get back to me, so today I employed a couple of new techniques. In meditation, I sat with a beautiful raku bowl in my hands. Into it I poured all of the thoughts of confusion, separation, frustration, contracting, irritation and sadness. Anytime a thought, person or image arose that was, for lack of a better word, messy, I would drop it into the empty space of the bowl.
Held by the Goddess Kali on my altar, this bowl has the ability to absorb and transmute anything and everything that I place in it. And as such, this practice became sacred as a returning of thought back into the vast formless space of Source. A key distinction is the placing of these chitta vrittis (confusing and fluctuating thoughts) as an offering rather than as a way to purge something that is wrong. There is no wrong part as the essence of each of us is good, it is Divine. There is nothing absent from any of us, nor is there something that we must excise. We are, in this practice, not trying to get out of this earthly and embodied existence, but simply allowing the fluctuations to happen, letting go of control and stepping into the currents of grace.
I let go more and more in my practice, allowing the dross to float to the surface and leaving the new, more refined me clearly in the cross hairs of my heart’s vision. And here I began the second technique; I focused on unconditional love. Not love coming from me, not my personal preferences for things I love and things I don’t (that would be mind again, it has its purpose, just not here) but love coming through me. Two ways I tap into this greater love are through gratitude and through service.
So I started to recall all of the things, events and people for which I am grateful. At first it felt a little canned, full of more effort and less feeling, and I was seeing broad sweeps of information. I am grateful for all the people who love me, I am in gratitude for the roof over my head and the food in my belly. As I continued, the feelings began to flow freely, warm and true, and the gratitude became more specific. I am grateful for the family who hosted me on my trip to New Mexico, I am grateful that my body is beautiful and healthy.
The more I looked for the gifts in my life, the more gifts I saw. The more gifts I thanked the Goddess for, the more empowered I felt to serve. A natural transition occurred out of the effulgence of love in the form of gratitude. With so much to be grateful for, how could I not share it with others?
I returned the bowl to the altar and opened my palms towards the sky. Floating them above my legs I held them open to direction, suggesting to mind that she remain open to the conversation with Love. How best to offer my unique and personal gifts to the world? I was reminded that this conversation exists in every moment. The gift of life or grace is the empty bowl, our bodies and minds the vessels through which love collects, empties out and is offered.
Making the body-mind a stronger vessel is a key practice of yoga. To make the bowl cleaner, more able to weather the transformations and able channel Love will just give the Love a bigger and brighter place to collect. Unconditional Love, for me, is just another name for God and it lives through and as each of us. When we open the flow on the faucet and allow it to run, we can dam it up over here or let it flow freely over there. We direct the flow in service, in making offerings of love and expressing our love through gratitude. For God-Goddess to live in this world He-She must move through us.
How we connect, what fills us and how we channel the energy of Unconditional Love is totally unique to each of us. It is our freedom to decide what to do with it, if anything at all. There are so many means available to us, so many ways to have sadhana (or spiritual practice). I just learned two new ones today simply by letting the process unfold.
May you recognize the gifts of your life, your heart and body-mind and offer a place for the Love to reside and move through you. May your bowl forever be both empty enough to hold more and yet always full of the ever-flowing Divine Unconditional Love.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Grace & Karma
Grace, in the classical or dualist definition, is something to be dispensed by someone other than us, namely God. God has it, we don’t. In this model we pray for it, sing for it, ask for it, beg for it and hope that we have done well enough or asked nice enough to receive it. By reaching out to something or someone external to ourselves and being granted grace, we escape from and transcend the suffering and problems of life.
In this model, we are trapped in a never-ending cycle of death and re-birth (as simple as inhale and exhale) and doomed to live out past ‘bad’ behavior through the punishment of yet another life (or yet another breath). To most, this is the understanding of karma, as in Radiohead’s famous song ‘Karma Police.’ We did something ‘wrong’ or are inherently flawed and life is a punishment from which we can be freed only through God’s gift of grace.
The teachings of the tantra, take these words anugraha or revelation of grace and karma in completely different ways. First and foremost in this monistic system is the belief that the whole universe is God; there is nothing that is not God. From this stance, if everything is God, then there can be no wrong, because the essence of God is good. Sure we can make choices that are not aligned with the qualities of God within us—with our true selves—but we are not inherently wrong or bad. We are not being punished in this life for some wrongdoing in a previous one or because we are lacking in some way.
From the tantric belief, grace is the gift of embodiment, it is the miracle of life. We have not fallen from grace, we have fallen as grace. Grace is not something we can inherit or earn, we cannot buy it, sell it or give it back, we cannot lose it nor can it be taken away. Even if we know nothing about or completely ignore grace, it is still present as the gift of our lives, as the very breath that breathes us.
In this model, how we experience grace is directly related to how much we open to it. Our goal is not to transcend life by gaining some enlightenment or gift beyond what we came with as we came complete and whole. It is not about getting back to God, but about seeing God in everything. Grace is being offered constantly. When you get in your car, drive 80 miles an hour and arrive safely (every day!) that’s grace. If we don’t stop to realize how lucky we really are, then we miss grace completely, despite that it is always totally present. When we begin to look for God in every moment and every experience then we begin to feel gratitude for the gift of life and our actions begin to change.
Back to karma; the root of the word comes from the sanskrit kri which means to do or to act. In this paradigm karma mala (see post from 9/11/10 for more on malas) creates the capacity for an individual to act and it unites our actions with purpose and heart. Karma as the capacity to fulfill our desires and intentions brings a sense of fullness and completion. Seeing the Divine in others brings a fullness of heart, an openness of mind and a realization that there is nothing to get. Our lives are already the gift.
Douglas Brooks says, “If the gift of grace is life, then yoga is its blessing.” Yoga is our union with the world, our relationship to it, to God. The question then becomes one of how we are acting, how we engage the world, not in judgment from an external standpoint of measuring up to receive grace, but from a sense of aligning to the Divine essence that is woven through and as all of this existence.
When an individual is open to grace she is aligning to the vast expression of the Divine. She is honoring and receiving the gift of her embodiment, knowing that her life is no accident or penance. When she steps into ever-present grace she begins to see the deep connectivity between all things as aspects of God. The tantrika realizes that she is already enmeshed in relationship with God and that all she really need do is breathe.
In this model, we are trapped in a never-ending cycle of death and re-birth (as simple as inhale and exhale) and doomed to live out past ‘bad’ behavior through the punishment of yet another life (or yet another breath). To most, this is the understanding of karma, as in Radiohead’s famous song ‘Karma Police.’ We did something ‘wrong’ or are inherently flawed and life is a punishment from which we can be freed only through God’s gift of grace.
The teachings of the tantra, take these words anugraha or revelation of grace and karma in completely different ways. First and foremost in this monistic system is the belief that the whole universe is God; there is nothing that is not God. From this stance, if everything is God, then there can be no wrong, because the essence of God is good. Sure we can make choices that are not aligned with the qualities of God within us—with our true selves—but we are not inherently wrong or bad. We are not being punished in this life for some wrongdoing in a previous one or because we are lacking in some way.
From the tantric belief, grace is the gift of embodiment, it is the miracle of life. We have not fallen from grace, we have fallen as grace. Grace is not something we can inherit or earn, we cannot buy it, sell it or give it back, we cannot lose it nor can it be taken away. Even if we know nothing about or completely ignore grace, it is still present as the gift of our lives, as the very breath that breathes us.
In this model, how we experience grace is directly related to how much we open to it. Our goal is not to transcend life by gaining some enlightenment or gift beyond what we came with as we came complete and whole. It is not about getting back to God, but about seeing God in everything. Grace is being offered constantly. When you get in your car, drive 80 miles an hour and arrive safely (every day!) that’s grace. If we don’t stop to realize how lucky we really are, then we miss grace completely, despite that it is always totally present. When we begin to look for God in every moment and every experience then we begin to feel gratitude for the gift of life and our actions begin to change.
Back to karma; the root of the word comes from the sanskrit kri which means to do or to act. In this paradigm karma mala (see post from 9/11/10 for more on malas) creates the capacity for an individual to act and it unites our actions with purpose and heart. Karma as the capacity to fulfill our desires and intentions brings a sense of fullness and completion. Seeing the Divine in others brings a fullness of heart, an openness of mind and a realization that there is nothing to get. Our lives are already the gift.
Douglas Brooks says, “If the gift of grace is life, then yoga is its blessing.” Yoga is our union with the world, our relationship to it, to God. The question then becomes one of how we are acting, how we engage the world, not in judgment from an external standpoint of measuring up to receive grace, but from a sense of aligning to the Divine essence that is woven through and as all of this existence.
When an individual is open to grace she is aligning to the vast expression of the Divine. She is honoring and receiving the gift of her embodiment, knowing that her life is no accident or penance. When she steps into ever-present grace she begins to see the deep connectivity between all things as aspects of God. The tantrika realizes that she is already enmeshed in relationship with God and that all she really need do is breathe.
Monday, September 20, 2010
The Tune-Up
Last night I was flopping around in bed like a tuna, unable to sleep. There I was in bed, it was dark and quiet and yet my body was humming and restless; I was in a state of agitation. For most people it seems to be the mind that is busy, but for me it is usually my body as a result of the physicality of my job. But then they are inexorably linked. We use both body and mind all day in our jobs, our relationships and in engaging the world, then we lie down at night and just expect them to shut off. But it sometimes isn’t that easy, especially if you spent the afternoon doing a bunch of deep back bends or pouring over important paperwork.
After about two hours of this, I finally got up, broke out my eye cover, considered doing head and shoulder stands but instead got back in bed and put on some really soft, sleep-inducing music. In my mind I began to observe my breath and count backwards from thirty to ten, counting only the exhales. Next thing I knew it was morning and the prism in my bedroom window was shining a rainbow throughout my room.
There are certain tricks that usually work for me, but isn’t it interesting that it took two hours before I employed them?! And that’s just it, we wait and wait when we know we should do something. The truth is we knew what to do long before and just had too much fear or laziness to respond. So we wait some more and then get frustrated and even more agitated with ourselves, the situation and sometimes those around us who have nothing at all to do with how we are feeling. By then it takes more effort to undo the stress that has now increased!
The reality is we have to start paying better attention before it gets to this heightened state. If we notice feeling ragged or run down, we have to respond. We can stop and take five deep breaths to reconnect with ourselves. We can make that phone call to the massage therapist that we keep meaning to make, go for a walk outside or write in a journal. Anything that will bring us back into connection with ourselves is going to help and to do it regularly is going to be even better.
The body is one of the best teachers for getting us to pay attention, when we feel pain or fatigue or a cold coming on, its the body trying to tell us that we are out of alignment somewhere, that we are disconnected from ourselves. When we start to pay more honest attention, then we step into an empowered state and out of the role of victim. We start to know who we are and what is best for us to do in any situation.
Recently a good friend taught me how to change the oil in my car. We made a day of it, going to the store to buy the oil and filter, driving my car up on the ramps, him instructing me about what to look for and to make it safe and efficient. It was so rewarding to learn how to work with this vehicle that I drive all over town every day and to know I can actually take care of it. But first we had to pop the hood! The body-mind is really no different, sometimes we have a stock pile of emotions and memories under the hood that agitate us to no end. Its no wonder we are too afraid or lazy to respond, not only is it a lot to process if it is stockpiled, most of us were also taught not to express our feelings or that it was bad, wrong or impolite to do so.
But, when we pay attention to our bodies and stop long enough to hear the voice in our hearts we get instant instructions to return to a state of truth, which will always feel at ease (at least once the emotion has subsided). The body and mind respond well to regular tune ups, practices like yoga, jogging or sitting down to meditate. When these become consistent in our lives the body will be more at ease and the mind will be less agitated.
Isn’t it time for a tune-up? Isn’t it time we all made the conscious choice to stay connected to our authenticity and take the time to pop the hood? I know you are worth it...
After about two hours of this, I finally got up, broke out my eye cover, considered doing head and shoulder stands but instead got back in bed and put on some really soft, sleep-inducing music. In my mind I began to observe my breath and count backwards from thirty to ten, counting only the exhales. Next thing I knew it was morning and the prism in my bedroom window was shining a rainbow throughout my room.
There are certain tricks that usually work for me, but isn’t it interesting that it took two hours before I employed them?! And that’s just it, we wait and wait when we know we should do something. The truth is we knew what to do long before and just had too much fear or laziness to respond. So we wait some more and then get frustrated and even more agitated with ourselves, the situation and sometimes those around us who have nothing at all to do with how we are feeling. By then it takes more effort to undo the stress that has now increased!
The reality is we have to start paying better attention before it gets to this heightened state. If we notice feeling ragged or run down, we have to respond. We can stop and take five deep breaths to reconnect with ourselves. We can make that phone call to the massage therapist that we keep meaning to make, go for a walk outside or write in a journal. Anything that will bring us back into connection with ourselves is going to help and to do it regularly is going to be even better.
The body is one of the best teachers for getting us to pay attention, when we feel pain or fatigue or a cold coming on, its the body trying to tell us that we are out of alignment somewhere, that we are disconnected from ourselves. When we start to pay more honest attention, then we step into an empowered state and out of the role of victim. We start to know who we are and what is best for us to do in any situation.
Recently a good friend taught me how to change the oil in my car. We made a day of it, going to the store to buy the oil and filter, driving my car up on the ramps, him instructing me about what to look for and to make it safe and efficient. It was so rewarding to learn how to work with this vehicle that I drive all over town every day and to know I can actually take care of it. But first we had to pop the hood! The body-mind is really no different, sometimes we have a stock pile of emotions and memories under the hood that agitate us to no end. Its no wonder we are too afraid or lazy to respond, not only is it a lot to process if it is stockpiled, most of us were also taught not to express our feelings or that it was bad, wrong or impolite to do so.
But, when we pay attention to our bodies and stop long enough to hear the voice in our hearts we get instant instructions to return to a state of truth, which will always feel at ease (at least once the emotion has subsided). The body and mind respond well to regular tune ups, practices like yoga, jogging or sitting down to meditate. When these become consistent in our lives the body will be more at ease and the mind will be less agitated.
Isn’t it time for a tune-up? Isn’t it time we all made the conscious choice to stay connected to our authenticity and take the time to pop the hood? I know you are worth it...
Monday, September 13, 2010
Heart vs. Mind: Staying Inspired
I teach 12-15 yoga classes a week, including private lessons and public classes, plus at least one workshop a month. By any standard in this industry, this is full time. To remain dedicated and inspired in anything you engage in full time takes commitment, consciousness, vulnerability and integrity. Doesn’t matter if it is parenting, marriage, skydiving or beekeeping, it is very easy to get bored or uninspired and let the business of what you do become mundane.
I am frequently asked how I come up with inspiration for my teaching and how I keep it from being routine. In Anusara yoga I am not just teaching poses, I am teaching philosophy and life-affirming, inspirational and spiritual lessons that go well beyond the mat. I weave these thematic lessons into postural alignment that makes the heart of the teaching tangible on a fundamental level. We feel it in our bones (which we happen to be moving in our practice), it resonates in our souls and some sort of spine-tingling, hair-raising deeper connecting occurs. We don’t understand it but we sure revel in the delight of how we feel as a result.
“Where does this stuff come from?” I am frequently asked. “How do you decide what to teach?” Truth is, it is not coming from me, but through me. Sure I am observing the students and feeling their energy and, yes, I am personalizing the information to make it more understandable. But mostly I am tuning in to a higher frequency and getting the hell out of the way!
You could say that I am listening more with my heart than with my mind. Mind will want to tell me all sorts of lies. You aren’t good enough, no one else has ever had that experience, no one wants to hear this, you don’t really know what you are talking about, don’t trust yourself, it says to me. In reality, I need my mind to weave these themes into a class, oh yeah, and to navigate the world of form, like remembering when I teach, where I live and what my name is.
Ego, mind, or shell, in this line of thinking, is my uniqueness, my expression of source and my ability to interact with the world around me. I am not trying to denounce or cut off this part of myself. The problem is when I identify with it, its divisive thoughts, my feelings or my experiences and believe them to be who I am. When I forget my connection to my heart and live only in mind, then, Houston, we have a problem.
To avoid this dilemma, I return to the unwavering essence of being that exists beneath the mind, beneath the level of form. When I connect through my heart to my essence or source I tap into a whole other dimension of myself and to the higher vibrations that begin to move through me, not from me.
How do I know essence from ego, heart versus mind? When it is mind-driven I feel confused, distrusting, alone, without answers and defensive. When it is heart-driven I am certain, clear, connected (even when I am by myself) and at peace. That’s not to say that I don’t feel a lot of emotion, because I do. In fact, I often feel more emotion when I step into the cave of my heart. But then I am not identifying with or as the emotion so I am not thrown about or trapped in them; I can simply witness and allow them to flow through me.
Let’s also remember we are beings gifted with free will and choice. Every moment we make choice after choice. And it is really as simple as knowing that each choice takes you closer to or further away from your own heart, your own integrity. So I make conscious choices that align with and reveal my essence. I cultivate situations, relationships and experiences that encourage her revelation and choose not to emphasize those that don’t. My practices become about seeking the authentic Presence inside myself and that the more I do things I love that are in integrity with my essence, the more connected I am. I practice differentiating between mind and heart, between changing form and unwavering essence and I move through the world from this authenticity as best I can.
I am not this way only in class when I teach and another way in the rest of my life. To step into the classroom and teach is just a continuation of that on-going conversation. Therefore it becomes easy to pull themes together and easy to be inspired because I am always practicing it, always living it. This is the real me and this is the conversation I am having every day, no different in my career than with the checker at the grocery store.
So, the question then is; Are you being authentic? Are you connecting with your heart and letting spirit flow through you? Are you letting yourself do what you love and what keeps you connected and inspired?
I am frequently asked how I come up with inspiration for my teaching and how I keep it from being routine. In Anusara yoga I am not just teaching poses, I am teaching philosophy and life-affirming, inspirational and spiritual lessons that go well beyond the mat. I weave these thematic lessons into postural alignment that makes the heart of the teaching tangible on a fundamental level. We feel it in our bones (which we happen to be moving in our practice), it resonates in our souls and some sort of spine-tingling, hair-raising deeper connecting occurs. We don’t understand it but we sure revel in the delight of how we feel as a result.
“Where does this stuff come from?” I am frequently asked. “How do you decide what to teach?” Truth is, it is not coming from me, but through me. Sure I am observing the students and feeling their energy and, yes, I am personalizing the information to make it more understandable. But mostly I am tuning in to a higher frequency and getting the hell out of the way!
You could say that I am listening more with my heart than with my mind. Mind will want to tell me all sorts of lies. You aren’t good enough, no one else has ever had that experience, no one wants to hear this, you don’t really know what you are talking about, don’t trust yourself, it says to me. In reality, I need my mind to weave these themes into a class, oh yeah, and to navigate the world of form, like remembering when I teach, where I live and what my name is.
Ego, mind, or shell, in this line of thinking, is my uniqueness, my expression of source and my ability to interact with the world around me. I am not trying to denounce or cut off this part of myself. The problem is when I identify with it, its divisive thoughts, my feelings or my experiences and believe them to be who I am. When I forget my connection to my heart and live only in mind, then, Houston, we have a problem.
To avoid this dilemma, I return to the unwavering essence of being that exists beneath the mind, beneath the level of form. When I connect through my heart to my essence or source I tap into a whole other dimension of myself and to the higher vibrations that begin to move through me, not from me.
How do I know essence from ego, heart versus mind? When it is mind-driven I feel confused, distrusting, alone, without answers and defensive. When it is heart-driven I am certain, clear, connected (even when I am by myself) and at peace. That’s not to say that I don’t feel a lot of emotion, because I do. In fact, I often feel more emotion when I step into the cave of my heart. But then I am not identifying with or as the emotion so I am not thrown about or trapped in them; I can simply witness and allow them to flow through me.
Let’s also remember we are beings gifted with free will and choice. Every moment we make choice after choice. And it is really as simple as knowing that each choice takes you closer to or further away from your own heart, your own integrity. So I make conscious choices that align with and reveal my essence. I cultivate situations, relationships and experiences that encourage her revelation and choose not to emphasize those that don’t. My practices become about seeking the authentic Presence inside myself and that the more I do things I love that are in integrity with my essence, the more connected I am. I practice differentiating between mind and heart, between changing form and unwavering essence and I move through the world from this authenticity as best I can.
I am not this way only in class when I teach and another way in the rest of my life. To step into the classroom and teach is just a continuation of that on-going conversation. Therefore it becomes easy to pull themes together and easy to be inspired because I am always practicing it, always living it. This is the real me and this is the conversation I am having every day, no different in my career than with the checker at the grocery store.
So, the question then is; Are you being authentic? Are you connecting with your heart and letting spirit flow through you? Are you letting yourself do what you love and what keeps you connected and inspired?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)