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.  The holiday season, with it's ghosts of Christmas past, health concerns, and other challenges among family and friends, was long, difficult, and demanding.

Although my energy had returned after a couple of months of wending my way through COVID, my 77 year old body, with its failing eyesight, bevy of inflammations, dental difficulties, achy joints and the resultant doctor's appointments, still needs a lot of maintenance time and 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.  I've got two stents in my heart forestalling the day when this aging body gives it up to the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.

 

There were times in my life that beginning the day in this frame of mind on a frigid 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 had spiraled down into deep depression, anxiety, and total burn-out.

That was then.  This is now.

This morning, like most mornings these days, I brushed my teeth, washed my face. took a deep breath, and felt my heart. Then, with compassion and curiosity, I looked my mirror image straight in the eye for a moment or two.  Then, I wobbled over to the altar in my bedroom.  There, I spent a few moments in a sequence of ritual prayers and bows.  Then, as I've done for decades, I bowed, 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, 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.  

Almost immediately, my heart and mind opened to the fact that a lot of old coots were feeling these same aches and pains and sadness.  Deeply aware that bodily pain and the emotional clouds of doom and gloom are being experienced by countless other human beings, young and old, at that very moment, I relaxed and opened to our pain. 

As I have learned to do in Tonglen Practice, I simply allowed 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 the One Love that exists within and beyond all that is embraced my sincere aspirations for our collective freedom from suffering.  In the Compassionate Presence that emerged, the dark ripples of painful energy began to dissipate and dissolve.  I stayed with it.  Soon, with each out breath, I was able to release my heartfelt aspirations as prayers for peace, liberation, and healing. 

Over the years, I've found that sometimes tears will emerge as I practice Tonglen.  I've learned to trust in the tears. They are actually a good thing.  It is 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 we've been taught to wear as a shield against the painful aspects of life.  As tears flow, the heart opens.  Sometimes gratitude, even joyous wonder, emerge as well.  Love embraces it all.

At other times, when facing strong emotional energies, I've found that it's been wise to "back off" a bit.  It can be overwhelming at times.  Having been touched by the teachings of Pema Chodron, I've found that being gentle and patient with oneself is, perhaps, the most important quality of heart to bring to Practice.  If need be, I'll focus my attention elsewhere for awhile.  I'll zero in on the sights and sounds of the space I'm in, or a return to a tighter focus on my breath.  Sometimes, I will turn to a mantra, metta recitations, or prayer.  Sometimes, it's been time to just let go and take a walk. 

Yet, this morning, I simply sat still breathing. Tonglen Practice emerged and, after a time, receded. Then I Simply Sat Still in open awareness again. Time danced with the Timeless, as the sounds of traffic ebbed and flowed outside the window.  

The hour flew by.  The bells 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.  

Here I am, sitting at this old Mac Laptop watching letters and words tap dance across the screen.  Remembering to take a couple of deep breaths, I feel my heart and sit up a bit straighter. I relax and 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.  Words seem to just appear and find their way into my fingers.  It's quite mysterious really. Being present, I feel a Presence. In the midst of a wondrous, somewhat dreamlike beauty, Reality asserts itself. The sacred and the ordinary dance hand in hand.

So, now what?

(READ MORE)