Healing

How We Are Defined.

“Enraged with hate, with mind ensnared, humans aim at their own ruin and at the ruin of others.”

It is one of the most pervasive of the Buddha’s teachings; one which explores the delicate intricacies of our self interaction. Sadly, our habit is often bound by reaction, rather than illuminated by the tempering of experience.

Someone says or does something unkind, and we are instantly triggered. We feel anger, hostility and pain – though, do we pause long enough to consider their source?

However painful our experiences, they are just that – one of many millions of moment; a speck of dust, really – notwithstanding the greater ‘investment’.

Only through a deepened understanding of our own anger, hatred, and aggression can we finally begin to understand. We may point our fingers elsewhere, but the true aggressor is within.

A little something to consider, my friends…we are defined not just by these experiences, rather more so by our experience within them.

In peace…

Namaste ❣️

God Bless This Broken Road.

There was an interesting question raised during our session this morning. How do we maintain our compassion in this life, while simultaneously suffering an ‘injury’ of heart? In other words, is it possible to treat another with equanimity – to hold true to our spiritual path in spite of our own circumstances?

The woman asking had recently lost her son. He was found alone in his car, parked outside a known drug house – an emptied syringe still hanging from his arm.

She spoke softly, though deliberately. “I hate them all,” she said. “the dealers, the other addicts…the counselors who failed him in his treatment. I hate the police officer who cut him a break, and myself for not doing more.”

The room grew silent in her pause. “It’s so easy to to discuss the hypotheticals of healing. But for those of us gutted by the finality of our pain – how on Earth do we begin again?”

She wanted answers – real answers, not the generics found in the bindings of a book. She needed connection, someone might greet her at her level. Someone who would understand the conflict of her pain.

“You’re already doing so,” the teacher began. “By showing up and being honest. That’s the first step in any journey. Right now, you fear the path – you fear where it might leave you. The path itself will heal your wounds. Try not to rush through.”

Someone once said to me that our experiences were, in part, to wake us up. Likewise, to help us reveal an inherent aspect of our human nature – the need to share our love.

Ultimately, this is the catalyst to our awakening. It lends us our ‘why’ in the absence of reason.

Something to consider, my friends – in peace…

Namaste ❣️

How We Become Whole.

I remember the first time he hit me; it was an unexpected sharp blow from behind. A ‘sucker punch’, as my father would have said. And I was a fool for allowing it in my life.

Like so many others, I mistook his attention. I was terrified by the prospect of an unmitigated emptiness, hoping desperately that his presence might help to relieve. Though as time passed, his actions worsened and I found myself living in a constant state of fear.

As humans, we strive to connect. We desperately need to coexist with another – as if it were a measure of our own self worth. We become so invested in our ‘others’ opinion, that we fail to take stock of our own.

How well have we lived, and how have we loved? More importantly, what treasures have we left behind?

It took many, long years for me to finally understand that this void I had experienced was mine alone to fill.

We can not seek wholeness through the company of others. Rather, we must first be whole in order to share. In leaving him, I was able to return faith to a space where it was sorely needed.

In peace, my sweet friends…

Namaste ❣️

We Are Each Other’s Harvest.

I found myself in an awkward space. Over the past several years I have limited viewing of television news programs within our home. They were intruding upon the flow of serenity, impacting my ability to ‘heal’ at the end of day.

Initially, it serves as a source of update; in a few short moments, I could begin to appreciate the complexity and intensity of our global issues. Though, in time it’s presence became far too demanding – an unwelcome guest refusing to leave. Politically charged debates were superceding imminent humanitarian crises.

How could one rest knowing this need?

I wanted to be more directly engaged in these issues, providing service where needed – not distracted by the assignment of fault or growing plague of political rhetoric. And yet, here I was ironically locked within a doctor’s waiting room area – with television blasting it’s ‘daily news’.

“The president responded by Twitter…” the broadcaster began. How on earth can we relegate a growing threat of nuclear war to the confines of now 180 characters? Surely our world view must be greater than a ‘tweet’?

Yet, here we are with a Commander in Chief acting in a manner unbefitting of the office; a festering stream of consciousness now threatening the viability of peace.

And reflected on the faces of those surrounding? The pained expression of having lost all control.

Instinctively, I ‘reached for the remote’ cutting the source of it’s power. “They want us to believe there is nothing to be done,” I began. “But those willing to take action are never without power.”

The silence in that room was, at first, deafening – but then finally a woman to my left began to speak.  “My grandparents were murdered in Auschwitz. I don’t know how my father survived, but he did.”

Her words helped to open a much needed dialogue. More specifically, it begged answer to the larger question: How do we begin?

Though our circumstances may force a sense of powerlessness – we are never without resolve. Our actions provide the mechanism for change, just as the will compels our forward motion.

Yet, often in these dialogues, we are forced to take sides. But, in the end – isn’t there only just one?

“We are each other’s harvest,” author Gwendolyn Brookes writes. I couldn’t imagine a more appropriate expression of our obligation.

A little something to consider, my friends.

In peace…

Namaste ❣️

When Loss Makes Us Better.

I remember the night my father died, a panicked rush of past-midnight calls and crying pleas for me to rush home.

Even under the best of circumstances, there would have been no way for me to make it to his bedside. Instead, I sat alone – head in hands and cried.

As children, the image we hold of our parents is an indomitable one. We view them as our comfort and security; a kiss to the forehead melting our troubles of day. But as we grow older, our roles somewhat change – we go to school, we take a job, we marry and move away.

Though inevitably, our view remains the same.

It’s difficult for a child to realize the vulnerabilities of their parents. We don’t want to relinquish that sense of always being protected; for many, we are terrified of being alone.

The image I held of my father was that of a warrior; a veteran of the Second World War, surviving the most terrifying of major battle campaigns – Normandy, Northern Africa and the Battle of the Bulge. His unit suffered catastrophic loss, counting just six from an original several hundred men.

When the news of the Nazi work camps finally surfaced, many couldn’t believe the reports. In their mind, they held an image of humanity – of compassion, of kindness, of good will towards all men. It wasn’t until they were faced with the atrocities directly that they finally understood the criticality and magnitude.

Freedom and honor were extremely important to my father. And, his life – a continuous reflection of adversity and rising above. Even when faced with imminent death, his last words to me – “Take care of your Mother and don’t worry about nothin’”

I miss my Father terribly. Not only was he my parent and teacher, but he was also my dear friend. In the weeks following his death, I felt a sadness unlike any I’d ever felt before – as if I were missing the better part of my own self.

In time, that grief became the source of my compassion. From that moment forward, I couldn’t help but to see another’s tragic loss.

We are all broken, each of us. And, each of us has lost something so incredibly dear. Yet, life goes on. And with it, our choice – to engage a legacy that was so graciously gifted.

We’re not just born, we become – and in this way, we are made better through this process of unfolding.

In peace…

Namaste ❤️

The Art of a Carefully Placed Pause.

This morning, I was getting ready for work, when I realized I didn’t feel well. My body has been greatly fatigued since my surgery, and perhaps coming back to work was a bit premature. Over the past few days, I’ve been feeling emotionally and physically drained.

As I looked into the mirror, I could see the ‘distance’ in my eyes. My face felt flushed as I steadied my hands against the countertop edge. I realized that I had been doing too much. In my eagerness to move forward, I actually set myself back.

As humans, we are wired to compete; to set and exceed expectations, in spite of the costs and/or considerations. We want to be the ‘best’ – though, against which scale?

As we embark on this spiritual journey, we may presume to know the way. We practice as the teachings say; we breathe, we meditate and eventually let go.

But do we remember to stop and take rest? Do we remember the balance between want and need?

This morning, my body forced me to take notice. Instead of rushing off, I took a few extra moments. I sat with the puppies, watching the path of the morning sun. I immersed myself in the changing colors of the sky. As the twilight faded, I realized that the stars were still there. Just like the rest I so desperately needed.

In his book, The Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching, Thich Nhat Hanh encourages our pause. “We have to learn the art of stopping,” he writes. “Stopping our thinking, our habit energies, our forgetfulness, the strong emotions that rule us.”

Only in this way, can we become more mindful of our interactions and far more grounded in this present moment.

“Around us, life bursts with miracles,” he writes. “a glass of water, a ray of sunshine, a leaf, a caterpillar…if you live in this awareness, you’ll see miracles everywhere. When we are tired and feel discouraged by life’s daily struggles, we may not notice these miracles, but they are always there.”

When the mind submits to rest, my friends – only then can we finally begin to see.

In peace…

Namaste ❤️

Becoming Our Courage.

In her book, Daring Greatly, author Brene Brown discusses vulnerability as a ‘willingness to be seen’.

Though, so often we view as a point of weakness – an admission to the fault of our own insecurities. We recoil at the mere thought of anything ‘less than’ – exhausting all efforts to make ‘right’ again.

And yet, when we are vulnerable – we stand fully alone; relinquishing the armaments of our tired, tattered soul, abandoning all structures which limit our view.

“How long are we going to resist putting on our hat of truth?” Thich Nhat Hanh inquires. “How long can we stand feeling so unsafe just to maintain the illusion of safety…?”

In our letting go, we become the greater measure of our courage.

In peace, my sweet friends…

Namaste ❤️

Finding Peace Within Sorrow.

I had a friend once who traveled to India to undertake the training of a yogi. He spent a year ‘learning the way’, strict practices – breathing, meditation, yoga – to engage the peace and light in his heart.

Though when he returned home, his sadness resurfaced; the pain in losing a child far too great. The house, now emptied and ready for sale, resonated with happier memories. The hallway where his son learned to walk, the mantel which proudly hosted his t-ball achievements – now joining in his sorrow.

“I realized then,” he later shared, “that the real work begins when we are willing to embrace.”

The path to peace isn’t a ‘one shot’ deal, my friends. Rather, it is a systematic and lifelong commitment to the beauty and fullness of life. To live deeply, we must engage all aspects of the human spirit – our upset, our challenge, the devastation of heartbreak.

Only when we explore the depths of our own brokenness can we finally begin to understand and ultimately heal. It is a day-by-day, living, breathing, ‘bandages off means to beginning.

It is the beginning of living without compromise.

Do we always get it right? My goodness, no. Though in time, we learn to break the cycle of our knee jerk reaction – to sit within the shadows of our own heart, and say:

“I’m here for you, love. I promise it will be ok.”

In peace…

Namaste ❤️

A Matter of Heart.

There’s a beautiful story I’ve always wished to share; that of a young man facing seemingly ‘impossible odds’ and a full recovery born in the depths of a boundless gratitude.

At just 46 years old, Shin-Ichiro Terayama had attained a certain enviable success. Working twelve to fifteen hour days had positioned him at the ‘top of his game’ as president and CEO of his own consulting firm.

Though, in time he’d begun to feel deeply fatigued. As his body further deteriorated, he struggled to perform the simplest of tasks. Five months later, he was so weakened he could barely walk.

Over the next year, he met with leading experts at the very best treatment centers in the world – none could pinpoint the source of his disease. Until finally, one day a specialist noted tenderness on his right side. Further tests revealed a very large tumor had formed on his kidney.

Doctors encouraged immediate surgery, though Shin ‘politely declined’ – a man of his stature was far too busy to accommodate an extended break in routine.

Though in time, and partly owing to his wife’s tearful pleadings, he finally conceded. It was at this time that surgeons discovered the gravity of his ‘disease’.

Over the next several months, Shin endured grueling surgeries and extensive cancer therapy in order to save his life. Though, in spite of these efforts – he was sent home to die; the cancer having spread throughout his now weakened body.

Upon his return home, he reflected on the achievements of his life – achievements born of sacrifice and dedication. In spite of which, he felt oddly unfulfilled – was this only measure of his life’s legacy?

The next morning, he awoke to the sound of birds gathered outside his window – their song so light, he was moved to tears. In their song, he found an immensity of gratitude not previously known. And, between each note – he found strength in fear’s sweet release.

Each day, he resolved to focus on the energy of love – the only energy that had provided relief from his suffering.

In time, his energy returned – with each breath, he could feel the physical pain leaving his body. Soon after (and quite beyond explanation of those medical professionals), scans revealed he was now ‘cancer free.’

Over 2000 years ago, Hippocrates spoke of the natural healing force of our body – citing these to be the true healers of disease. Though, this healing is predicated on a willingness to believe that which can not be so readily explained or evidenced by the measure of contemporary medicine.

Some might proclaim his recovery a matter of miracles, though – what if we are our very own miracles in the making?

What if, though a simple redirection of heart, we might soon remedy the world? Is love, then, the cure for all known ills?

I think it is…what do you think, my friends?

In peace…

Namaste ❤

In Our Mourning, We Begin.

This is a very difficult post for me to write, my loves. Perhaps, as the emotions are still quite raw. Or, that I am as of yet unable to process through them.

When we love someone deeply, we not only yield the benefit of our heart – we exact its opening. And all that we have ever once known, thought or touched – becomes suddenly illuminated. The bold lights dance, as they lay their shadows – and we are forced to consider ourselves in the context of this new light.

And, we may lose ourselves in that process. Scary, at first, sure – though, oh so very necessary. Just as with the caterpillar’s metamorphosis – we clasp our hands around weighted branch, holding fast until the shell over takes.

But, just as we fear the destiny of this hardened shell – we break open; we are free. Still, we lumber under the weight of these newly unfolded wings.

Until we stretch to meet the light, and we realize our potential for flight.

Beyond and through the heavens we soar, dipping through bursts of Flowering Dogwood and Magnolia trees. Until at last, we find our balance – resting on the edge of a restless buttercup.

More than ever before we feel ALIVE. The air has a familiar sweetness, one that reminds us of a once faraway ‘home.’

Even as we stand before the darkened clouds which hint their treat of imminent storm, still – we know. Still, we believe.

And, when that love is taken – snatched away far too soon? Do we not yet still rejoice, having known the blessing of our shared journey.

To that end, I must confess my heart feels surely broken. Though today, I am mourning the loss of someone quite dear – I know their smile will never be farther than the next lift to my wings.

And, within our mourning – we begin.

My darlings, please forgive as I must take rest today. And, please know that I love you all.

Namaste ❤