By Debra Basham, on October 9, 2018 While on retreat, stuff comes up. While it is common to think what comes up is about someone or something else, it is always coming from within. With a bit of kindness, awareness can expand, leaving a space of love and gratitude.
The October, 2013, retreat in Howell, Michigan, presented me with roommate stuff.
I was rooming with two other women, neither of which I know very well. After the last sitting meditation of the first evening, two of us went to bed. It was some time later the third came in to our room, turning on lights, opening and closing doors, opening (or crinkling) something, as she did her bedtime preparations.
The annoyance seemed to go on and on and on and on, but, thankfully aware of the gift that is ever-present, I was able to have compassion for my roommate and myself trying to sleep.
I forgave myself for any time in the past I was interrupting another.
I made up stories about how this woman must live alone so she was not used to being respectful of others.
I acknowledged the challenge she must be having trying to find everything she needed in the mostly darkened room.
Most of all, I was able to ask, “Can I keep an open heart for all of us through all of this?”
As I was able to lie there in the stillness, I was infinitely grateful for the practice and for this woman who was gifting me so beautifully….
As one of the meditation teachers said, there is no experience in the world that is more rich in practice, more nurturing to body and soul, than retreat. We may be going on retreat with the intention to get away from it all, but while we are on retreat, we find ourselves in love with the ALL THAT IS.
By Debra Basham, on October 8, 2018 This week I will be at Oakwood Retreat Center in Selma, Indiana. I will be practicing noble silence along with all of the other retreat participants. While noble silence, or even retreat, may seem a strange experience to many, it is balm to body and soul.
This week it might be fun for you to come with me along a beautiful path called “Retreat Reminiscence” by re-reading previous blog posts about past retreats I have attended.
Our first stop is at the Emrich Retreat Center at Parishfield—nestled among 5,000 acres of state park land in Brighton, Michigan. The date is June, 2012. Click here to read Retreat 2.
By Debra Basham, on October 4, 2018 Right after posting this blog, I was gifted a box of blank cards titled “Tree of Hope.”
I am posting again, with the new title and with the front of the card now included.
Deep Spring Center
Thought for Today
“If you wish to live in (a certain city)
what might block you from manifesting that move?
Is there any question about your worthiness
to live in a place that is most delightful to you?
Any question about fear of getting what you want?
The question here is not where you will live
but how will you manifest the situation you seek,
and that must be asked by,
What blocks that manifestation?’
Because when the blockage is gone
then it can be allowed to manifest.”
~ Aaron
Last week our big tree was removed. I have been sitting with the question Barbara Brodsky asked me about whether the tree still lives in my heart. (See my previous blog, “Does the tree still live in your heart?“) It took a few days to honor the intense sadness, but a couple of times I could see the empty space in the yard. I was able to feel an open space in my chest and abdomen. I was reminded of the way organs and limbs that have been removed remain energetically present. I also thought of all of the loved ones in spirit whom we feel and experience as here with us after the physical form is gone. My prayer became to allow my majestic tree to live in my heart.
Monday afternoon our park owner stopped by our house because our water meter was needing some repair. After the repairs were made, I mentioned the removal of our tree. I told him how sad I had been over the removal. “I am not trying to get anyone in trouble, but you need to know that the tree workers told me they found no rot.”
We walked out back together and stood together in the opening under the sun where the tree’s branches used to wave.
“I am sorry,” he said, “I would have sworn this tree had rot in the crotch and was infested by ants.”
Looking into his face, I shook my head, and repeated, “The workers told me they found no rot.”
I felt the spirit of the tree bolster my heart as I continued, “This park is your business, but it is also our home. We need to be able to have open communication and to trust and respect one another.”
“I could not agree more,” he replied. My heart felt his sincerity. It was as though the magnificent old tree was smiling at us. He, too, genuinely felt the loss. Maybe not his own loss, but definitely mine. He said he is still planning to remove other trees.
“Is there something I could have done differently?” I ventured.
“I have learned the importance of not dismissing a communication,” he said as we parted ways.
I trust the old tree will continue communicating. I wish to live in a world where magnificent old trees and property managers recognize their value and contribution to our planet. I wish to live in a world where men listen to women and women forgive men when they don’t.
It still remains what will become of the potential of the space here in our yard. A gazebo? A flowering tree? A small labyrinth? A fire pit?
When we stop fighting with what is, we begin to see the infinite possibilities.
By Debra Basham, on October 4, 2018 Deep Spring Center
Thought for Today
“If you wish to live in (a certain city)
what might block you from manifesting that move?
Is there any question about your worthiness
to live in a place that is most delightful to you?
Any question about fear of getting what you want?
The question here is not where you will live
but how will you manifest the situation you seek,
and that must be asked by,
What blocks that manifestation?’
Because when the blockage is gone
then it can be allowed to manifest.”
~ Aaron
Last week our big tree was removed. I have been sitting with the question Barbara Brodsky asked me about whether the tree still lives in my heart. (See my previous blog, “Does the tree still live in your heart?“) It took a few days to honor the intense sadness, but a couple of times I could see the empty space in the yard. I was able to feel an open space in my chest and abdomen. I was reminded of the way organs and limbs that have been removed remain energetically present. I also thought of all of the loved ones in spirit whom we feel and experience as here with us after the physical form is gone. My prayer became to allow my majestic tree to live in my heart.
Monday afternoon our park owner stopped by our house because our water meter was needing some repair. After the repairs were made, I mentioned the removal of our tree. I told him how sad I had been over the removal. “I am not trying to get anyone in trouble, but you need to know that the tree workers told me they found no rot.”
We walked out back together and stood together in the opening under the sun where the tree’s branches used to wave.
“I am sorry,” he said, “I would have sworn this tree had rot in the crotch and was infested by ants.”
Looking into his face, I shook my head, and repeated, “The workers told me they found no rot.”
I felt the spirit of the tree bolster my heart as I continued, “This park is your business, but it is also our home. We need to be able to have open communication and to trust and respect one another.”
“I could not agree more,” he replied. My heart felt his sincerity. It was as though the magnificent old tree was smiling at us. He, too, genuinely felt the loss. Maybe not his own loss, but definitely mine. He said he is still planning to remove other trees.
“Is there something I could have done differently?” I ventured.
“I have learned the importance of not dismissing a communication,” he said as we parted ways.
I trust the old tree will continue communicating. I wish to live in a world where magnificent old trees and property managers recognize their value and contribution to our planet. I wish to live in a world where men listen to women and women forgive men when they don’t.
It still remains what will become of the potential of the space here in our yard. A gazebo? A flowering tree? A small labyrinth? A fire pit?
When we stop fighting with what is, we begin to see the infinite possibilities.
By Debra Basham, on September 27, 2018 An alternate title for this post could be: Fleas Have Not Yet Flown.
Checking in with our small group on the Dharma Path (a two-year course with Barbara Brodsky, Aaron, and John Orr) on Tuesday evening, I shared feeling very sad about the removal of a beautiful, big, old (about 60 years), tree that was cut down that day. It might have been easier if the tree had been obviously weak. It might have been easier if I had made the decision instead of having it be made by the owner/manager of the property where we live in our tiny house now. And it might have been easier if it had not been our ONLY tree in our yard, leaving us at the mercy of the blazing summer sun.
I told Barbara how unskillful I felt, not being able to feel the everlasting peace as well as the sadness. She said kindly, “Who dies? What dies? Does the tree still live in your heart?”
I choked back tears, no longer just for the beautiful old tree, but now for the human who was having difficulty keeping my heart open.
Yesterday morning when I arrived at Joel’s, it was obvious the fleas had not yet flown. (See Fleas!)
When I pulled the chair out to have lunch, I saw a live flea on it, and twice during lunch a flea crawled on to my ankle and bit me as I ate my salad. Instead of my normal nap on the massage table, I placed a light-colored bed sheet on my lap, sat on the futon downstairs, and inspected McGee. She is the one with very light-colored fur, so easiest to see fleas. She innocently welcomed my search, experiencing it simply as loving attention. I found several live fleas still on her sweet body, and lots of dried blood and flea-body parts. When I went downstairs for bed, McGee came to bed with me (her usual delight at having an overnight companion on the lower level). While reading, I chased down one live flea on her forehead. She obviously was not loving me any less because of the fleas. I was doing my best to stay open to her precious presence.
This morning as I entered the kitchen, I saw two fleas jumping on the tile floor. I found half dozen or so on the slippers I was wearing. Joel sprayed the herbal product he has been using on the kitchen floor, and I stood at the counter to eat my fruit bowl.
Let me be perfectly clear—this is not about fleas. This is about my heart. More importantly, it is about the truth that as the day progressed, it became more and more difficult for me to keep my heart open.
I can see clearly how the difficulties with the fleas is helping me see, accept, and love my human self.
Barbara continued, “On the mundane level (relative reality), the open heart is where we remember that on the supramundane level (ultimate reality), there has never been anything to heal. Able to just say, ‘Fleas, fear, sadness…. ahhhhh…. I no longer have need to manifest this. I do not choose to embrace this as a reality.'”
It might have been helpful to have read today’s Daily Word early this morning rather than when I got home.
The key word is “Centered.” I am being pulled off-center by my belief Joel should be doing something else (taking the cats out of the house and having the house treated), and by my aversion to the flea experience. Fear of bringing fleas home to my house enters in also. Feeling hopeless, helpless (it is hard enough to get myself to do what I want, much less Joel), and totally not centered.
I do prefer feeling centered, and in those times when it is difficult to do so, I can choose to remember my highest purpose is to love.
Debra, in Egyptian, means she who brings the sublime light of the creator.
And when the light is bright, you can see the fleas!
By Debra Basham, on September 20, 2018 Those who know me well know I am a real cat lover. I don’t have a cat right now, but I wrote a poem about trying to woo a barn cat into the house. It was inspired by “What a Figure Can Do!” (Craft Tip 14, page 118-125) from The Crafty Poet: A Portable Workshop, by Diane Lockward. The exercise was to write a love poem using figurative language, but not to a lover.
Unrequited Affection
You prowl under the moonlight,
another of those sleepless nights for both of us,
so I snack on molasses cookies as you eat the dinner I left for you
Sun peeks over the barn roof as the rooster crows
You and I watch each other warily
questioning the ability to trust one another completely
We deny what we instinctively yearn for
afraid of letting ourselves fall wantonly
into a committed relationship
When I do sleep soundly
I am dreaming of holding you against my breast
someday maybe you will be able to surrender totally to that love
Coyotes are within ear shot now
we are both afraid
I know I am safe inside, but I hope you quickly hide
I saw you moments after your birth
Watched your sweet momma lose her girth
Buried her in the rain while you watched from a safe distance
Neither of us has a mother,
we both lost a brother,
and we are not yet sure about each other
Tomorrow morning I will run my fingers along
the edge of the porch where the dew left your foot prints
perhaps my scent will call you to me; I guess I will just have to wait and see
This is no game of cat and mouse,
I am a woman used to getting what I want, and
I want a cat who lives in my house!
Cats bring out something in me that can only be called LOVE. I talk kitty-talk in a high-pitched voice. I go to businesses where cats live just to visit them. I scratch cats under their chin with my finger nails, and I give them kitty-massage. I breathe as they purr.
But this week my cat-loving has been complicated by fleas!
Joel’s three cats have fleas. He has a big house and lots of “soft-cloth” surfaces where larva and eggs and babies of fleas can hide. Early this spring when his boy cat, Zeus, was no longer allowed to go outdoors, Joel thought flea prevention was no longer necessary. Well, we now knows fleas can live without a blood source for 100 days….
Fleas in the carpet, fleas on the couch. Fleas on my slippers, biting me – OUCH!
As I began helping with the necessary clean up and treatment while I was in Kalamazoo, I felt overwhelmed, frustrated, exhausted, and fearful what we were doing was not enough. I was feeling all of that, but I did not want to waste the pain. All those emotions were stirred up in me so as I cleaned, I began to intentionally release times in our past when I felt those feelings. I know it as releasing karma. My actions were no longer mundane. I was not just cleaning house, I was purging body and soul. I was living forgiveness.
Joel told the members of our book club he had never seen anyone fly into cleaning mode like I did. About 2 o’clock, when we stopped long enough to have some lunch, he was exhausted. I told him to go take a nap and he and Zeus took me up on it. They slept for about three hours as I finished up and showered.
Life can be difficult and sometimes downright painful. And frustrating, and exhausting. There is no denying that being human is not easy. But there is so much more to life than the mundane. We are not merely human. I am grateful Joel would allow himself to go rest. He needed it. Over the years we have worked together I have contributed to pain for him. We have had misunderstandings, unskillful interactions, and awkward moments. I was cleaning up saddness, remorse, and shame. Like the eggs and larva of fleas, those things can come back to bite you unless you clean them up. Even if all we are doing is dusting and vaccumming, we can do what needs to be done with love.
I looked up “Flea Animal Totem” online. One of the websites had this to say:
Flea shows those of us who have felt victimized or powerless that we really do have tremendous influence, agility, self-preservation and protection abilities.
Flea reminds us of our resilience. The harsh criticism of others may scratch away at our self-esteem, but nothing can crush our spirits if we define ourselves from within. By seeing how big we are inside, instead of focusing on small-minded insults or transgressions from without, we harness our inner strength and can fly even without wings.
Cultivate your psychological faith and the door to your imagination will be open. Trust yourself and do not underestimate your own ability to bring about change or action.
By Debra Basham, on September 15, 2018 “The whole problem with people
is that they know what matters,
but they don’t choose it.”
— Sue Monk Kidd
I was sharing with a precious friend about how her current role as a caregiver for her husband is similar to a mom’s taking care of an infant. The aura of the person being cared for is dependent upon the aura of the caregiver. If the mom is anxious, angry, exhausted, or frustrated, the baby reacts, because they are essentially sharing an aura. This also occurs at the other end of life….
I heard myself say to her, “We spend most of our lives believing that we have to sacrifice ourselves for those we love, only to come to understand that the most loving thing we can do for those we love is to take good care of ourselves.”
I spent several hours online with some amazing folks in North Carolina who work for an organization called Reintegration Support Network, “RSN is an emerging project that aims to provide continuing assistance to young people who have successfully completed substance abuse treatment programs*. It seeks to provide a sobriety-oriented support structure to increase chances of continued sobriety.”
The aim is to be heart-centered and genuinely present in a transformation way with those who have suffered the pain of addiction. Of course, this hits very close to home for me with my nephew, and dear friends who have adult sons still working through the damage that can be done to lives by substance abuse. We are not alone, millions worldwide are touched….
One of the men online, Will, is now the RSN Volunteer & Outreach Coordinator. He previously spent 25 years in prison. The most recent newsletter says this about him: William took this time to grow, getting his GED and reading hundreds of books while mentoring troubled youth.
None of these words fully express what I felt from Will. His compassion obviously has come as a direct result of having grown from his own pain.
The facilitator of the gathering had the group do a distant healing for my nephew. As part of that, each participant was instructed to “go inside” and receive a message.
Each message was precious. I made notes and my sister will share those with him. He is being released again on Monday.
This was Will’s message: “The pressure is not real. It’s an illusion.”
All this brings to mind a handout about our growth from dependency to being at choice I created for a 2004 workshop series called RX Gratitude.
Dependent: “I can’t do it alone.”
Thought virus: “I CAN’T do this.”
“If you don’t do this for me, you don’t love me.”
“If you do this for me, you love me.”
Result: Leaves the individual with the perception that love is conditional.
Positive intent: Survival
Emotions range from helpless to trusting
Counter Dependent: “I will find a way to do it alone.”
Thought virus: “I WON’T depend on anyone.”
“Others cannot be trusted.”
“Needing help is a sign of weakness or deficiency.”
Result: Leaves the individual with the perception that love is risky.
Positive intent: Determination
Emotions range from anger to optimism
Independent: “I can do it alone.”
Thought virus: “I MIGHT not ask for help.”
“If I refuse to let you help me, you will feel bad.”
“If I let you help me, I am denying the truth.”
Result: Leaves the individual with the perception that love is sacrifice.
Positive intent: Confidence
Emotions range from sadness to triumph
Interdependent: “I cannot do it alone because I cannot be alone.”
Thought virus: “I CAN be responsible.”
“If I am responsible, you are not.”
“Even if I am responsible, I cannot feel a sense of accomplishment because I know others are responsible too.”
Result: Leaves the individual with a perception that love is self-denying.
Positive intent: Connection
Emotions range from rebellion to optimism
Choice: “I WILL choose to experience this any way I wish knowing that my experience (map) does not dictate what is (territory).”
“Whatever happens, I will survive.”
“I may not win, but I cannot lose, because every experience produces learning.”
Result: Leaves the individual with the perception that they are supported.
Positive intent: Sovereignty
Emotions range from peace to bliss
It seems this post should close with another Sue Monk Kidd quotation, reminding us of the importance of genuine self love. From Traveling With Pomegranates: A Mother-Daughter Story:
“My children have always existed at the deepest center of me, right there in the heart/hearth, but I struggled with the powerful demands of motherhood, chafing sometimes at the way they pulled me away from my separate life, not knowing how to balance them with my unwieldy need for solitude and creative expression.”
Now that is sovereignty….
By Debra Basham, on September 9, 2018 Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
“The Summer Day” by Mary Oliver
from New and Selected Poems, 1992
Beacon Press, Boston, MA
Copyright 1992
It has been quite some time since I made a two-year commitment to a formal program of study. Deep Spring Meditation Center is offering the course and there are a lot of facets of the commitment: daily meditation practice, daily journal entries, alternating weekly Dharma talks and small group meetings with Barbara Brodsky, Aaron, and John Orr. I went reluctantly to this commitment. My conscious mind struggled with the group meetings happening on Tuesday evenings, the night our Sangha meets here in Saint Joseph Sangha. Because Sangha meets the first and third Tuesday evening, at times the meetings will directly conflict. Sangha is important to me. I am already absent part of the year.
Another aspect of the hesitation is you know something like this is going to change you.
The focus of the Dharma Path program, from Aaron:
If you wished to improve your health, you might start to eat more wisely, to exercise, to meditate, and to bring joy to your life. After some time with such intentions, you would probably start to ask, “What is healthy eating? What exercises shall I do? What forms of meditation are there, and what practice would be most suitable? How do I invite joy?”
You might then study nutrition, plant a garden and learn to talk with your vegetables; practice yoga, weight lifting, running or swimming and finally begin to look deeper at the body and what best supports wholesome interactivity of the body parts. You might regard your spirit body as an integral part of the whole of body, mind and spirit, and investigate what spiritual practices most help bring ease and support the physical, emotional and mental bodies.
Finally, you might begin an in-depth investigation of joy and find the ways that living with mindfulness, with gratitude, with generosity, all support joy. And this is just the start.
I am sharing with all who follow the Yellow Brick Road so you can make the choice to “go for the ride.” This phrase is common in our SCS/NLP trainings—you can set your intention to receive the benefits of this transformational change work. Mahatma Gandhi said it like this, “You must be the change you wish to see in the world.” Consider this your invitation….
A friend who has recently moved from St. Joseph to Holland is currently reading Shift into Freedom: The Science and Practice of Open-Hearted Awareness, by Loch Kelly. This friend attended Sangha in St. Joseph, and also on Pine Island, when in Florida. Shift into Freedom ties in perfectly with the Dharma Path. While you won’t be meeting all of the requirements of my two-year study, we can all get a jump start. Check out a free preview of Kelly’s book, including some amazing exercises available also on Youtube, like “What is here now when there is no problem to solve?”
I love Mary Oliver’s poetry, and the words of the opening quote from “The Summer Day” are timely. So much is happening. Personally, politically; physically, emotionally; mentally, spiritually. It may be that nothing we will do over the next 24 months is more significant than this commitment to joy in trying times.
By Debra Basham, on September 3, 2018 I have come to truly savor watching the TV reality dancing shows. My first (and perhaps still favorite) is So You Think You Can Dance, but I have also come to enjoy Dancing with the Stars and now World of Dance. It is wonderful to see the dance arts gaining recognition as having value. Football players make a ton of money but football does not touch my soul the way dance does. If you are new to seeing dance as an expression of soul, or even if you are in agreement, take a moment to watch this clip of a powerful Mia Michaels piece about addiction, called “Gravity” and danced brilliantly by Kayla and Kupono.
When I meditate on the word guidance, “dance” at the end of the word lingers in my mind’s eye. I remember reading that doing God’s will is a lot like dancing with the divine.
We enjoyed a month of joy sharing the past 52 hours with our daughter, Stacey, who came up from Tennessee this weekend. Readers of Yellow Brick Road know I am actively processing the undeniability of our impermanence. (See Still Waters.) Before Stacey arrived, I choked back tears telling her dad, “It feels like time is just rushing by and no matter how much time we might have left with her, most of our time with her is already gone. I don’t want to waste a single moment.”
I can still smell her in the room here in the tiny house that doubles as my office and the guest room. The fragrance that lingers sounds like laughter. The vision that lights up my heart is seeing her riding along the Van Buren Trail Spur. It is only 2.5 miles, and we drove 50 miles round trip. But catching a glimpse of her helmeted head while watching the Monarch’s dance in the clover running along the trail was worth every mile. Some days it seems as though my chest is not big enough to hold my heart. It physically hurts to feel the complexity of missing, longing, joy, and trust.
One of the amazing things that happened was around the route she would take back because she was going to Paris Landing, Tennessee, where their sail boat is rather than going back to Smyrna. Since she said she was going 1-94 to 1-57 I had such a strong sense she should go 1-31 to 1-69 instead. Just last evening we asked Linda, who has lived and worked in Illinois, her opinion. Linda agreed 1-31 was probably a better route, and that was the plan. Early this morning Linda sent a text: 31 was closed due to a tanker truck crash and fire. This afternoon it is still closed with the possibility that the southbound lanes might not open up for a couple of days.
The dance with the divine means we do not often understand the why’s or the when’s or the how’s. We can often see more clearly in hindsight. Say only, Linda would not have known to alert us to the closure if we had not asked her opinion about the route.
One of the precious moments we shared was attending our former church, where a good friend is now pastor. David was in our youth program while Stacey was growing up, and for many years he spent more time at our house than at his own. Stacey suggested we go; I confirmed he would be speaking; and we went. I sat in my past, seeing how much has changed. Pews have been replaced with flexible sanctuary seating. Walls have come down, large screens replacing hymnals.
One thing that had not changed: First Sunday of the month communion.
“Given for you.” Both women who served the bread and cup called me by name.
It was a tender time.
“Do this in remembrance.” There certainly is a lot to remember related to that church home and to our daughter, now a member of AARP.
Suddenly, I hear Lee Ann Womack singing, “I Hope You Dance.” I hope I dance. I hope you dance. I hope we all do. And I hope we don’t ever take one single step for granted.
I Hope You Dance
by Lee Ann Womack
I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Livin’ might mean takin’ chances, but they’re worth takin’
Lovin’ might be a mistake, but it’s worth makin’
Don’t let some Hellbent heart leave you bitter
When you come close to sellin’ out, reconsider
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance (Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along)
I hope you dance
I hope you dance (Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder)
I hope you dance (Where those years have gone?)
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
Dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance (Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along)
I hope you dance (Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder?)
Songwriters: Tia Sillers / Mark Sanders
I Hope You Dance lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
By Debra Basham, on August 26, 2018 I am starting a two-year study with Barbara Brodsky and Aaron and John Orr. As a preparation, Barbara shared a detailed meditation/dream she had where she was asked what her highest intention was. As part of this process, a high being conducted a sort of interview. This being asked if there were those who would speak to their experience of Barbara.
The deva of the lady bugs came forth saying Barbara had been carefully removing them from the window sill and gently taking them outdoors.
A deva of the spiders said Barbara was fearful and had done great harm to their kind when they approached her. She admitted this was true.
The wise being conducting the interview said, “These balance each other out.”
As I read the rest of Barbara’s accounts, each balancing one another out, I wondered who would speak and what could be said about me.
One of my most frequent mantras is, “May all beings come to the end of suffering.” Each Sunday morning Celeste closes our meditation with the extended version including the wish that all beings know love and find peace. Is that enough?
Wondering if the times I have worried about finances and withheld my generosity be balanced by the times when you know you are supported by the abundance of the universe and give generously. “I am a co-signer on God’s bank account.” Do you know this truth?
Perhaps the moments of patiently waiting in line or traffic or saying for the third time still with kindness how to do something will be able to balance my sharp tongue and unwholesome reply when anxious about something.
What will be made of our lives? What is being made?
I had a post-Sangha conversation on the sidewalk with Don as we were leaving the library. He spoke of the great understanding coming from a true sense of what is meant by the term karma. One might steal, cheat, lie, then find themselves on the receiving end of unkindness and true lack of safe conditions for life. If you can recognize the starting of the turning of the wheel, you can release any sense of being a victim.
One of my earliest jobs was to count 50 gallon wooden barrels filled with cherries in bleach solution for making maraschino cherries. (Yes, before they become artificially red or green, toxic chemicals are used to make them white. Yuck!) Many dozens of barrels laid end-to-end in the wide open field adjacent to the warehouse of the cider mill my dad managed. Our job was to walk the barrels, stepping from one to the next, counting, making sure the people took what they paid for. This was the perfect home to a gadzillion HUGE yellow and black field spiders.
In my childish fear, I did not understand the benefit of these creatures. I only knew the fear. We would catch dozens of them in jars where they would fight to the death in this unnatural lack of territory. The unnatural environment made the spiders appear fierce and hostile.
Interestingly, years later I would discover “spider” is my one of my primary animal totems…
Thankfully, we can come to a genuine recognition of the worth of all beings and experiences.
The Four Immeasurables as a Traditional Tibetan Buddhist Prayer
May all beings have happiness and the cause of happiness.
May they be free of suffering and the cause of suffering.
May they never be disassociated from the supreme happiness which is without suffering.
May they remain in the boundless equanimity, free from both attachment to close ones and rejection of others.
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