“If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to
man
as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all
things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.”
― William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell
“Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child -- our own two eyes. All is a miracle.”
― Thich Nhat Hanh
― William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell
“Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child -- our own two eyes. All is a miracle.”
― Thich Nhat Hanh
The world is shrouded in fog this morning. Although there
is still a whisper of deep red in the burning bush and a muted yellow orange in the maple across High Street from my perch here at the Weldon Hotel, the sky has disappeared.
There was a time when a grey, gloomy morning like this would invariably send my spirits spiraling downward. Confined to the tunnel vision of my own thoughts and feelings, I would become oblivious to the Ongoing Miracle we are always immersed in. I'd get really depressed.
Today, that didn't happen. I blame the Practice for this turn of events.
Although I would be dashed between the rocks and hard places of my own unattended childhood trauma and dysfunctional conditioning many times over the years, I was fortunate. The Collective Kensho of the late 60's and my own Peek Experience of Infinite Perfection in 1972 gave me a strong enough jolt of the Real Deal to get serious about a spiritual practice. Although there were some fleeting dry spells, I've mediated regularly for a long time.
Now, at age 74, it seems I've found a way to Not-Do Depression so much. although I am no stranger to sadness, the Practice has transformed my relationship to emotional energy. The inner belief structures and narratives that could operate to lock it into my current reality just can't seem get a toe-hold anymore. Instead, the story lines arise and disappear within the Gracious Spaciousness of Awareness that is readily accessible much of the time. Of course, I put my butt on the zafu for at least an hour most days, and try to take an entire day of mindful practice at least once a month.
The Theory and the Practice
So, here's the Deal.
(READ MORE)
There was a time when a grey, gloomy morning like this would invariably send my spirits spiraling downward. Confined to the tunnel vision of my own thoughts and feelings, I would become oblivious to the Ongoing Miracle we are always immersed in. I'd get really depressed.
Today, that didn't happen. I blame the Practice for this turn of events.
Although I would be dashed between the rocks and hard places of my own unattended childhood trauma and dysfunctional conditioning many times over the years, I was fortunate. The Collective Kensho of the late 60's and my own Peek Experience of Infinite Perfection in 1972 gave me a strong enough jolt of the Real Deal to get serious about a spiritual practice. Although there were some fleeting dry spells, I've mediated regularly for a long time.
Now, at age 74, it seems I've found a way to Not-Do Depression so much. although I am no stranger to sadness, the Practice has transformed my relationship to emotional energy. The inner belief structures and narratives that could operate to lock it into my current reality just can't seem get a toe-hold anymore. Instead, the story lines arise and disappear within the Gracious Spaciousness of Awareness that is readily accessible much of the time. Of course, I put my butt on the zafu for at least an hour most days, and try to take an entire day of mindful practice at least once a month.
The Theory and the Practice
So, here's the Deal.
(READ MORE)