Mindfulness and Mission

 

“I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love

will have the final word in reality... Man must evolve for all conflict 

a method that rejects revenge, aggression, and retaliation.  

The foundation of such a method is love.” 

-- Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

“When we are mindful, deeply in touch with the present moment,
our understanding of what is going on deepens, and we begin to be
filled with acceptance, joy, peace and love.”
― Thích Nhất Hạnh

I awoke this morning stiff and sore, a bit out of sorts.  Even though Springtime is whispering in our ears, Mother Nature continues to hold on tight.  Here in Western Massachusetts, the world emerged from single digit temperatures overnight to pummel us with sleet and snow this afternoon.

Although, I seem to have recovered from a respiratory bug that slammed me last week, my nearly 80 year old body, with its failing eyesight, bevy of inflammations, dental difficulties, and achy joints still needs a lot of rest, maintenance time, and careful attention.  

As I plodded slowly toward the bathroom,  the whole world -- inner and outer -- seemed shrouded in gray tones of doom and gloom. 

 

Images of my inevitable, if not imminent, demise floated through my mind as I limped along.  Through the wonders of modern medical science, I've already beat the genetic odds of my lineage. My dad was dead at 61.  His dad was gone at 57.  Although I no longer fear death, the thought of leaving this plane of existence still mostly sucks. 

 

There were times in my life that beginning the day in this frame of mind on a frigid late winter morning would have thrown me for a loop.  A dark mood and dark thoughts would have wrapped themselves around one another and held onto one another tightly -- sometimes for hours, sometimes for days.  Sometimes for weeks at a time.  

In fact, there were times in my life that I spiraled down into deep depression, seemingly unbearable anxiety, and total burn-out.

That was then.  This is now.

This morning, as I have done most mornings for decades,  I brushed my teeth, washed my face. took a deep breath, and felt my heart open and expand. Then, with compassion and curiosity, I looked my mirror image straight in the eye for a moment or two.  Then, I wobbled to the altar.  There, I spent a few moments in a sequence of ritual prayers and bows.  Then, as I've done for decades, I lowered myself to the zafu and Simply Sat Still. 

Within moments, it was different.

There in my little corner of the world, with my body comfortable and upright on the meditation cushion, with eyes open and unfocused, I floated on the breath of Practice.  In the expansive gaze of open awareness, I relaxed and watched as ripples of thought, images, feelings, and bodily sensations emerged and dissipated along the surface of a clear, calm, vast pool of bright spacious awareness.  Simply Sitting Still, no longer grasping or pushing away what I was experiencing, I breathed, relaxed, softened, and opened.  

Soon, I was aware that a lot of old coots were feeling the aches and pains and sadness of aging, as well.  I knew that these types of bodily pain, these emotional clouds of doom and gloom are being experienced by countless other human beings -- at that very moment.  Breathing in,  I relaxed and opened to the pain. 

As I have learned to do in Tonglen Practice, I allowed the painful bodily sensations and emotional energies to emerge and breathed them directly into my heart chakra.  There, in my heart of hearts, the gracious spaciousness of Open Awareness welcomed this sea of sensations.  There, the One Love that exists within and beyond all that is embraced and was embraced,  with my sincere aspiration for our collective healing. Breath by breath the the dark ripples of painful energy began to dissipate and dissolve.  I stayed with it, simply breathing through the sensations.  Soon, with each out breath, I was able to radiate my heartfelt aspirations for peace, liberation, and healing.  At times, images of individuals would arise in my mind's eye and variations of the traditional metta meditations emerged as thoughts (May we (he, she, they, etc.) be free from suffering, May we be at peace, etc.)  At times, I visualized this energy as light radiating in all directions.  

After awhile, I returned to Simply Sitting Still.  Present to each moment's experience, an open, loving Presence emerges.

If At First You Don't Succeed

Tonglen Practice has been part of my meditation toolkit since 2006.  After two decades it continues to evolve.  Since the thrust of individual and collective conditioning in this hyper capitalist age propels most of us to reflexively reject painful experiences, the habit to do so is strong.  Creating new neural pathways through Tonglen has taken, commitment, effort, time -- and patience.  Lots of patience.    

Sometimes tears will emerge as I practice Tonglen.  This, I've found, is actually a good thing.  I've come to trust those tears.  They are the the body's natural response to the grief that is inherent in the human condition.  Released, the tears wash away the hardness of heart that I'd been taught to wear as a shield against the painful aspects of life.  As tears flow, the armoring around the heart melts.  

As this happens, there are times that a deep sense of gratitude and wonder emerges within the tears. There, a boundless and mysterious One Love emerges to embrace both grief and gratitude.  In those moments, there is nothing left to do.  Simply being present is enough.

Yet, the impact of our conditioning, individual and collective, is formidable.  Over the years, I've found that, at times,  life will serve up situations that produce emotional energies that are quite overwhelming.   Having been deeply touched by the teachings of Pema Chodron (through her writings and on-line presence), I've come to see that being gentle with myself is crucial. There are times that the most skillful approach is to drop Tonglen and focus my attention elsewhere.  

Sometimes, I will zero in on the sights and sounds of the space around me. Sometimes, I will tighten my focus by returning to counting my breaths, a mantra, or metta recitations.  Sometimes, I need to get off my tail and go outside for a good walk.

And yes, at times, I've learned that it is best to just drop the whole project and cue up a movie or a sitcom and sit down with a bowl of popcorn!    

Yet, this morning, I persisted.  Strong emotions, emerged.  Then, without a clear decision, Tonglen Practice emerged.  Then, after a time, it receded.  I Simply Sat Still in the heart of open awareness again.  There, the sights and sounds of traffic outside the window moved within a still pool of silence so deep that the bottom disappeared from view.  

Breathing in.  Breathing out.  I floated on effortlessly. The hour flew by.  The closing bells rang on my iPhone rang.  I recited the Four Bodhisattva Vows as I have done for decades -- and rose to face the day.

But, that was then, this is now.  

In Real Time 

Here I am, sitting at this old Mac Laptop watching letters and words tap dance across the screen.  Remembering, I take a couple of deep conscious breaths. I sit up a bit straighter, relax my shoulders, feel my feel on the floor.  The center of my attention returns to my heart.  I come to my senses.  Settling into a fuller awareness of the sights and sounds and sensations and gracious spaciousness of Life as it emerges moment to moment, I relax and open.  

At this point, words seem to just appear and find their way through my fingers into the screen.  It's quite mysterious really. Being present, I feel a Presence. It glows with crystalline clarity.  Here, the Sacred and the Ordinary dance hand in hand. 

So, now what?

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