Gratitude

Were you ever told "eat your peas" or "liver" . . . "there are starving children in the world?" (Even if you were not, for I do not actually recall my parents ever saying that), it is in the discourse in Western culture and many are familiar with it.  It is an attempt to elicit gratitude from children (as well as foist the value of peas and liver upon them).   I suspect few children felt truly grateful at that moment.   To me, authentic gratitude feels like sheer amazement or wonder. It is a kind of joy and deep thankfulness that a particular something exists. Of course that requires that we notice that that something exists and in our busy an hectic lives we often fail to notice.  So much goes by that we never notice.  We spend so much time doing and much less observing, much less noticing much less enraptured by the unending beauty in the world.

Artists notice. At its heart that may be the essence of art, noticing and elevating, so that others notice too.  Perhaps that is why so many true artists are not celebrated during their lifetime.  Society was not ready to notice what was obvious to them.  I've read that the exercise of simply writing down that which one is grateful for, can uplift the spirits immensely.  The times I have done it -- it has certainly been true.   if it at first feels contrived and method like,  the list never dries up.  Each of us has more blessings than we could ever count.

I suspect authentic gratitude helps because it is an opening to a wider perspective.  It is particularly useful when we have become too myopic about a problem and have lost sight of the context in which the problem arises. It may be the case that the problem hurts or seems sticky or causes us anxiety but is certainly not the only thing going on at that moment.  When we suffer we have identified with the clouds, forgetting that we are the sky.  Even identification with the clouds can be seen as part of  the sky.   There is nothing wrong with the identification, it simply happens. But often we worry that we are not being spiritual if problems or identification arise.  Or we become so focused that it the only part of life that is before our eyes.  Of course problems arise.  But they could never be the whole. Furthermore, how wonderful it is that problems arise.  How monotonous life would be without "problems"   I suspect they start feeling less like problems though, when you recognize them as the diverse and rich texture of life itself in its pain, glory, wonder, sorrow and joy and a million other nuances.

Through these eyes seeing is gratitude.  It cannot make sense to the mind which will fight to turn the problems and challenges into a theory of justice and at one level that is well and good.  There is nothing wrong with a good theory of justice.  At another level is an extremely radical question to ask: What can we include in our gratitude?  What must be left out?  What does that suggest?

Here are few things I am grateful for at this moment:

My sight
The fact that I am able  to type
The clicking of the keyboard keys in a clackety rhythm.
My beautiful partner
Loving and healthy parents
My loving child
Neices
Friends in many places: VA, Seattle, MD, Pennsylvania, New York, DC, Colorado, France
Three crazy cats
Amazing siblings
Wonderful in-laws
Meatless Meatballs
Bread in every form it can be ingested
Potatoes - I don't think I've ever met one that I didn't love
Pesto - perhaps my all time favorite.   For me, it is proof that universe is benevolence.
Truth
Nephews
Strawberries
Long summer days
Baseball gloves
Toilets
Pictures drawn by my eight year old
Stars
Well run meetings
Super moons
Electricity
Sports bras
Boots
Cellos
Bach
Pools
Sign language
Elephants
Fireflies

and those were just the things that came to me in three minutes.

I would love to hear from you.  What is that you are grateful for?  Its fun to write down or say it out loud to someone near.  Really it is.  What are you grateful for in this moment. I dare you to try it.

Temple

Saint or Sinner?

You may or may not agree with him.  He has been vilified in some circles and venerated in others but regardless of what you feel about him, arguably, he is a function of  A New Earth, and emerging consciousness in many  ways.  

We stand at a crossroads in human history.  Never before has the capacity to destroy so much life, so quickly, existed.  A sword might harm one person, a ballista a score, but with today's technology, millions can die in that same instant.  Hundreds of species are endangered because of human's authoritarian approach to planetary life; our water is polluted and the climate is rapidly changing; soon perhaps beyond human remedy.  All is not grim however, for at the same time, there is an emerging consciousness.  More and more people are recognizing their intertwined identity, more and more people are seeing the conditioning that has motivated them, more and more people are waking up to who they really are.  Change is happening rapidly and each day there is evidence (as there has always been) of the both the rigid structures of identity bound relations and of unity informed relating.  In one, the fragments of our identity compete in an unending and ultimately doomed attempt to try to make us whole in the other we simply see the wholeness that comes from being who we are - a manifestion of the whole.

Without judging Edward Snowden (as either a traitor or patriot, attention-seeker or principled whistleblower), he is certainly a man of 2013.  In this time we are witnessing the perhaps unprecendented dissolution of structures in astounding and sometimes very frightening ways. Change is often hard.  Uncertainty is often hard.   For so many years the nation state has been the organizing principle of our tribal identity, but increasingly as communication makes it possible for people to know and understand the lives of others thousands of miles away, land boundaries are becoming less meaningful.  Forces like the internet have the power to undermine the bonds of nation states for better or worse.   Boundaries and allegiances in general are shifting and being redrawn. 

It was always interesting when the news was centralized to watch what reporters would report upon. For instance, when an international plane crashed and the Brits talked about the Brits, the Americans talked about the Americans and so on.  But why should one's allegiance reside with where they were born rather than somewhere else?  In today's age of twitter, facebook,  and hundreds of other social media, meaning is not constructed the same way any longer.  The potential for a different construction of meaning and identity exists.   As the power of tribal identity wanes however, the interesting opportunity is to see if people simply redefine their tribe or if they align with humanity  something different or bigger?   Now, to seemingly elevate realignment of identity and not recognize  the legitimate moral and ethical strivings of  tribes and countries throughout history, or to fail to acknowledge and honor those who have fought and died to protect  ideals, is to demean the work of tireless states people who have tried to make a difference. 

Still,  there are other ways of organizing the world and new modalities of communication coming to be each day.  These,  among many other things,  are accelerating the redrawing of walls and maps and alliances.  New ways of being and seeing are becoming available to more and more people, and lest you think this is limited to  simply some crazy hippy progressive spiritual outliers,  think about multi-national corporations.  To whom are they beholden?  In so many ways they supercede the traditional nation state model.  Their profits in many cases exceed the GDP of many countries. Their interests lie across countries all over the globe.   Currently their power is mostly checked by nation states but a multi-national's leverage only increases  exponentially when the success or failure of an entire nation state seemingly hinges on the success of the multi-national.  (Think too big to fail). 

Similarly take a look at a number of  “recent hot” issues in the news – immigration,  Private Manning,  the world economy,  last year’s middle east spring.    Each of these topics is at some level about redefining existing structures. Each is about the re-negotiating “inside from outside”  or remaking boundaries.  Ultimately that is what is transpiring .    The world's stock markets collapsing showed us how intertwined the economies of the world are, Private Manning if he is to be believed acted to right wrongs in how the US was treating others and is doing it at the cost of his reputation and career. The middle east overthrew numerous dictators as people connected through social media and realized their collective power.  Congress is heatedly embattled in the most ironic of debates considering that nearly everyone in the US came as an immigrant and the few who are not were subjected to insufferable injustice.  Each of these is about identity and boundary. Each of these issues is about who we say is in "our circle"  Each calls attention to the pitfalls and potential in how we have circumscribed in from out, connections among and between and how we relate with each other.  The old ways are giving way to new ways of connecting with each other . 

The world is becoming increasingly porous or more precisely we are noticing the porousness that always existed.   Back in college I read an article by Donna Haraway called A Cyborg Manifesto.  It was a brilliant and eye-opening essay.   One thing I distinctly remember was  the notion of boundaries changing rapidly in modern society.  The notion that what separates tools from humans from animals has become less clear it it ever was.   She spoke of how distinguishing a hammer from a human is relatively easy but where does the human begin and the tool begin when you ‘ve  installed a pacemaker or mechanical heart or bypassed the ear for a computer chip that enables hearing or when medicines change the brain chemistry or when individuals consciously share blood and organs?  Animal organ transplants are not that far off. Where does the human begin there?   How can we then be so different from each other or from animals? 

Even facebook and the increasing degrees of comfort in public sharing through various social media can be seen in the light of transparency and changing structures.   Now, it is true that  people's facebook  pages are still a very controlled "image" that distinct selves present to the world to get feedback and often reinforce the very image of who they believe themselves to be, but on the other hand, on the continuum of tools that point in the direction of recognizing how transparent our personalities are, or tools that allow the recognition of the many and varied  roles we play, facebook and other social media can be incredibly illustrative.  Why do you post?  Who do you expect to see it? Why do you tweet?  What do you choose not to post? What do you choose to post?  Whose posts do you hide? What is the image you present?  Who among your friends agrees with that image?  What of you remains hidden? Why?

Many find the brave new world terrifying, which is why at the same time that many old structures are crumbling before our eyes many cling to old structures  for dear life.  I suspect the fight over marriage equality is an issue like that.  For those who are opposed to marriage equality, I don’t wonder if the issue has less to do with gay people marrying each other and more to do  with a deep, deep fear that there is so little in the world that seems stable and their desire to hold onto something.

We create structures to provide stability, to ground us.  Often we are lulled into believing they are permanent.   No strucuture is permanent.  No form is permanent.   No-thing is permanent.  Many of our old structures are crumbling  and as they do, it causes stress.  Of course when a structure collapses, like when the stock markets around the world  nosedive it can be scary.  That is a part of being human.  Fear is not the problem  its what you do with that fear that can be problematic.  It is also an enormous opportunity to see beyond the veil and understand what really matters and know the power that it is always present that communicates it’s alright, it's ok and which is itself the only constant.  

Call it what you will.  When every-thing crumbles what is left?  When the tethers are gone and the anchors lifted, what does movement look like?  That is the amazing discovery that can be unearthed amidst uncertainty and the unknown.   One potential approach besides fear is to be curious about it like a thrilling movie where you don’t yet know the plot.   Who knows? What comes next?

 

Tree

Today, I am a tree.

My long, gangly limbs arc upwards and embrace the heavens

my roots spiral down into the dark, damp, dirt

a ganglia of a million beautifully tangled connections.

I am here because you breathed life into me. We are one.

Yesterday, I was a mighty Peregrine gliding on tufts of swirling air and wind

I targeted my meal below in the grassy marshes.

Now I am that struggling pregnant woman on the train, face lit with discomfort

as I am forced to stand "on my own two feet" even after a too

long 16 hour shift at Sal's Cafe. No one will handout his seat

and I cannot afford another mouth to feed.

I have been the pith on the inside of the lemon

and the filament in the bulb in your Grandma Edna's attic.

I have seen worlds conquered and galaxies born.

As a snowflake, I once melted into my place exactly as fate requested.

As a rock, I held my ground for a thousand years till the rain and

sun and wind relieved me of my guard.

You know of which I speak - for we are both forged from the

particles of stars. In this blessed here - there is no other,

the whole universe has conspired to create this very moment.

I am - because you are, as if there's any difference.

This is the ground in which all arises.

Where did I learn that the boundary of "me" ceased

at my skin, or my gender, or my race, country, species or even my thoughts.

Perhaps I did so because it seemed easier to indulge the lie then to steadily face

the immense pain and sorrow of my helplessness when confronted by the horrors of

of a world swalllowed by its own starvation, avarice, war, murder, and rape.

But really there is only an ounce of difference between true helplessness and surrender

which is where the freedom lies.

And so, tomorrow I am the leaf -- willingly seduced at twilight by

the gentle wind into one final dance that lays me upon the altar of myself.

Twirl me where you will. I am given over in love and it rends my heart into an

infinity of nothingness that will once again nourish this

tree of life.

What An Itch Revealed About the Eternal

The other night I experienced the itchiest of itches. At first, I got up to get something to scratch it with but then I decided that it would be fun to simply sit with the itch. I noticed that what I was calling “an itch” was actually something a lot more fluid. At first the sensation of a kind of prickliness dwelled in one place on the surface, then it moved deeper. At one point it became a kind of pulsing and at another it disappeared altogether, only to reappear a little while later. Was it really all the same thing? As I brought my attention, awareness and curiosity to my itch, I recognized that it offered a wonderful opportunity to explore the meaning of impermanence, space, awareness and conditioning.

We are conditioned to chase pleasurable experiences and avoid discomfort and unpleasantness. Without being a biologist, I’m guessing that it’s hardwired into us and has been incredibly adaptive for surviving. When faced with discomfort or pain we often seek relief immediately. Don’t get me wrong. There is nothing wrong with seeking relief from pain or discomfort. It is not masochism that we’re after. But what if our discomfort or pain had something to teach us about who we really are? What if instead of reflexively seeking relief from one’s discomfort, one became curious about it? What exactly is pain or discomfort anyway? Sometimes we do not have the luxury of being able to relieve our discomfort or pain. What happens then? I decided to look into what this simple discomfort could show me. For me, the itch became the opportunity to look deeply into reality. It was perfect because it was not so difficult as I imagine chronic or serious pain could be and I knew that I could stay with it and glean valuable lessons about fluidity and the changing nature of phenomena. Something as seemingly insignificant yet “stable” and consistent as an itch was a doorway for insight.


As I sat with the ever-changing itch I became less aware of it as an “itch” per se. A big space existed and in it was this “movement” which was traditionally labeled “itch”. There were sensations; pressure, tingling, sharpness, shifting. Soon the desire to scratch the itch disappeared and soon after the series of sensations I had been calling an itch disappeared altogether too. In a way it was a beautiful microcosm of our lives. The itch was born, lived for a while and quietly disintegrated into nothingness .

Our minds try to give the world a sense of continuity and stability but at some level nothing is as static as it seems; it is changing all the time. It is all born anew each moment but for our mind which strings it together.

So the itch was physically uncomfortable but could it tell me something about emotional discomfort or pain? When one experiences emotional pain what exactly is it? Does it stay the same over the course of five minutes? an hour? a day? The next time one is feeling emotional pain, what happens if one sits with it for a few minutes? Is it constant ? Do other thoughts/feelings enter one’s mind/body? what is the story that is being told? What is the texture of the pain? What is the mechanism by which it keeps going?

It seems that emotional pain must rely upon our minds re-telling the story over again and resisting what is going on right now. It is common to seek relief from the pain by re-hashing what "injustice" or "difficulty" or "problem" one is experiencing. It’s as if we think by re-telling the story it will come out differently, or we can soothe ourselves by dwelling on the details but does that really have the capacity to bring sustained relief? What if instead of circumventing the pain by telling stories about it, what if we focused on the pain itself? -- where it hurt? what it felt like? (not the story about it – but what it felt like in the body/mind) what it might be trying to tell you? What if you weren’t even trying to get rid of the pain but instead, just letting it be there? It is like somewhere we were told that pain is bad and therefore we must get rid of it. But is that really true? It seems to me that pain just is. What happens to one’s sense of self when one allows the pain to simply be there? Who or what is it that can watch the pain being felt?

Frequently when one experiences emotional pain one adds the layer of “I" should not be feeling this way” but where does that come from? Who says one should not feel that way? The fact is that one IS feeling that way and to argue with what is will always cause suffering. In fact, it probably is the definition of suffering.

Clearly emotional pain and discomfort are similar to the physical discomfort of an itch in many ways.
Observing the itch also offered me insight into addiction. Ultimately, addiction at some level, is rooted in a false sense of self. With an addiction, the addict identifies more with that which they crave, rather than see what they crave as something that passes through who they really are. I am reminded of how powerfully compelling behavior is often likened to “itching to do something”. Yes, one may want the object one craves but so what? What happens to YOU if you do not get it? (Now I am leaving aside physical addiction to something for a moment – but even in those cases, ultimately what happens to one if one does not get the object they crave? It may feel unpleasant or painful or may perhaps even be deadly but why is even that not ok? I do not mean that to be morbid. Who do we know/feel ourselves to be both in the absence of what we crave and in its presence? When I felt compelled to scratch the itch, somewhere I had dialed into the back of my brain a story about my discomfort. Perhaps it was that my discomfort would never end if I did not attend to this itch or that even if I managed to avoid scratching now I would certainly scratch later. Somehow the itch felt enormous and bigger than me and it crowded out all else. Really that is a flip-flop of reality. With addiction our sense of identity becomes so narrow that we define ourselves through our addiction and we are unable to relate to the world except through the craving. Dissolving an addiction seems like it would require a reimagining of oneself, a true recognition of ourselves.

Ultimately, we are the space that contains the itch and the pain. We are the observing of the itch and pain. In that space the itch came, morphed, and dissolved into the sweet no-thing-ness. So will we.
But to quote Eckhart Tolle– only the eternal in you can recognize the impermanent as impermanent.

Amy's Poem

 

 

 

 

When I speak to my friend now many years gone

Do not conclude that I’ve failed to move on

 

She possessed wisdom beyond twenty two years

To that I am drawn when darkness appears

 

A whisper aloud spoken soft in tones piano

Is joined with my voice in silence's daft echo

 

To corners of solace where world's get tuned out

And the voice of compassion need no longer shout

 

 

To Amy again, my troubles I send

And who else to trust but my very dear friend

 

The candle casts shapes on a wall just behind

Flames flicker, Smoke curls, as if to remind

 

That life does continue to sway and to dance

And only with movement do we each stand a chance.

 

A wick stands encased wrapped in blankets of flame

But though it seems trapped, no one’s to blame

 

The fire, as fire, is set there to burn

And wick without fire has naught but to yearn

 

True, leave it could not, that is not a wick’s lot

Can it rewrite its story command its own plot?

 

It can.  Tis true,  by being true to its being

For it's in that call that our essence finds freeing

 

For a fire’s to burn and wick’s is to stand

And each doing its part, is part of what’s planned

 

Let the whole world move through, relax, be alert

In the universe's dance there’s no way to get hurt

 

With perspective and motion you’ll view different sights

So in the end cower not from even the scariest frights

 

With vantage and movement  you’ll find different things

But from each chosen spot you can join that which sings

  

The flame, wax and wick belong to the candle

And each with the other, knows it can handle

 

The tasks of its calling, sums greater than each

That to glow with endurance alone’s out of reach

 

But together they make one complete whole

With each part playing its integral key role.

 

My troubles earlier sent, soon fade in the light

As darkness gives way to the candle’s soft light

 

My whispers and cries to my friend quietly

There are answers, and soothing. Amy’s answered my plea.

 

Rain

 

Splat, drip, plunk, sploosh

raindrops careen hard into car's glass

crashing almost, alien.

The arc of mechanical arms swinging side to side

sweeping droplets off the clear, curved surface.

Flattened ovals pulled like shooting stars

across the transparent galaxy, trailing off.

To see, we look beyond you to the space

between your liquid origin's existence

and beyond even the path of

your arrival.

Headlights

slicing

the

distance,

parsing

reality,

ever a digit, a beacon 

pointing towards the moon;

to where both the explosion of stars

and collision of raindrops

are but a bead

 in a wellspring

of unlimited potential

rippling forever

outward.