By Debra Basham, on October 21, 2018 “Happiness can be found,
even in the darkest of times,
if
one only remembers to turn on the light.”
~ Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
and
“When
we have accessed the peace that is ever present in our self under all circumstances,
the body, mind, and world are profoundly affected,
and, in time, become increasingly permeated by it.
They begin to shine with the peace of our true nature.”
~ Rupert Spira, The Art of Peace and Happiness
(Presence, Volume I)
(Our True Nature; The Nature of Peace, Happiness and Love;
The Origin of the Separate Self; The Body; The World; Experience)
The afternoon did not unfold the way I had expected. I had been invited by a friend to attend a “Reader’s Theater” about 30 minutes away. I invited two mutual friends to join us. It was a lovely drive. Autumn colors dotted the woods on either side of the two-lane road, and we listened to the recording of a sermon given earlier that morning.
One car sat forlornly in the parking lot when we arrived a mere 15 minutes before showtime. A phone call solved the mystery: the event we had come to attend had taken place the prior week!
As so many people suffer profoundly, we find ourselves searching for the most appropriate way to be all that is happening in our political culture. For my part, I am reading Rupert Spira’s writings about nondual awareness. In an almost wordless way, it is clear our awareness is key.
Although Spira does not use the phrase, “If and when,” that seems an appropriate title for this post. It is a phrase used to say something about an event that may or may not happen.
Here are two books on nondual awareness by Rupert Spira:
1. The Art of Peace and Happiness (Presence, Volume I)
(Our True Nature; The Nature of Peace, Happiness and Love; The Origin of the Separate Self; The Body; The World; Experience}
2. The Transparency of Things: Contemplating the Nature of Experience
My friend recommended Spira to everyone who desires to experience liberation. She said to read the books in that order. Although they are both dated 2016, she thinks they may be reprinted from earlier material.
Our thoughts go out to people who are feeling so very afraid. Fears loom around loss of freedom, the environment, racism, sexism. There is no denying the fear. Fear haunts our thoughts. Fear is felt in our bodies. Fear makes us experience the world as a web of hatred and dissonance humanity is caught in.
But Spira makes a good point that our true self is not our thoughts, feelings, sensations, or perceptions. Rather, our true self is aware Presence. “Like someone whose fists have been clenched in defence for so long that they are no longer aware of it and thus feel perfectly relaxed, so our body and mind have been permeated by the tensions that are generated by the idea of a separate self.” (The Art of Peace and Happiness)
How interesting that what we thought we were going to enjoy had already been enjoyed.
If and when you read Spira, you will realize there is no separate self. Our “aware Presence” is inherently peaceful and, thankfully, this peace does not depend upon what may or may not happen.
We are peace itself.
By Debra Basham, on October 16, 2018 I wrote this poem a few days ago while I at the 2018 Deep Spring Meditation Center retreat at Oakwood Retreat Center.
Vipassana
V-vast are the stories
I-incessant the grasping, clinging, and aversion
P-passing away; what passes away
A-and where does “it” go?
S-Silence, stillness, smiling or sometimes sobbing
S-Sitting, stepping, satiating
A-Ananda, Hey Ma Durga, Hey Ma Durga
N-no ‘I”, no “you”, no “here”, no “there”
A-all of as sudden after all of these lifetimes
Settling back in to ordinary life after retreat is always a bit challenging. Walking back from the dining hall following our last breakfast I was asking how to keep this retreat mindfulness at home. A voice within began to speak.
Think about a firefighter. How different the conditions at home on a Saturday morning enjoying blueberry pancakes with the family from being at the fire hall waiting for a call, or dashing to the fire truck when a call comes in, or pulling a body from a mangled vehicle. Has the firefighter changed? No. Different conditions house different mindfulness.
I am sure you will be hearing more about the retreat as the weeks unfold, but for today, I am moved to introduce you to Anandamayi Ma, a 20th Century Indian Saint. I first heard her name when John Orr shared the following quotation.
“My consciousness has never associated itself with this temporary body. Before I came in this earth, I was the same. As a little girl, I was the same. I grew into womanhood, but I was still the same. When the family In which I had been born made arrangements to have this body married, I was the same… And, in front of you now, I am the same. Ever afterward, though the dance of creation change around me in the hall of eternity, I shall be the same.”
The central theme of all her words and expressions is this: Life and religion are one. All that you do to maintain your life, your everyday work and play, all your attempts to earn a living, should be done with sincerity, love and devotion, with a firm conviction that true living means virtually perfecting one’s spiritual existence in tune with the universe. To bring about this synthesis, religious culture should be made as natural and easy as taking our food and drink when we are hungry and thirsty.
An ecstatic child of ecstatic parents, she became a famous saint who like many other female Indian saints stood on the edge of several religious traditions, and in the midst of none. When we chanted “Hey Ma Durga,” something deep and familiar flowed black into my soul. I hope I am forever able to live her message of everyday mindfulness.
My heart was touched deeply by my retreat time. So, as I left the room I had shared with Claudia for eight days, this is how I left my bed linens on the bed.
By Debra Basham, on October 15, 2018 As Claudia and I are heading home today, it seems appropriate to close my retreat reminiscence posts with a visit to Still Waters. I went to Still Waters for the first time in December of 1995. We are so blessed to have Delcy Kuhlman’s vision of a space dedicated to contemplation right here at Still Waters in Berrien County, Michigan.
Still Waters is not fancy, but the walls have witnessed sincere practitioners for decades.
Keep Claudia and me, along with all the others who have been on retreat this week, in your thoughts and prayers as we travel today. I trust you have been blessed by these memory musings. May all beings find peace.
By Debra Basham, on October 12, 2018 Phenomenal Retreat is the review of Oakwood Retreat Center in the fall of 2015.
Oakwood Retreat Center is a wonderful property, and one of my most sweet memories is hearing the migrating song birds as they gathered in the woods near the meditation hall.
Being able to spend time in nature is one of the gifts of retreat. I hope you are enjoying nature this week, too.
By Debra Basham, on October 11, 2018 November, 2014, we were at Camp Geneva in Holland, Michigan. It was an amazingly gorgeous setting on the shores of Lake Michigan.
One of my most tender memories was of sharing a room with Claudia and Wayne. Claudia and I have been roommates many years, but Wayne was with us this time because he was already dealing with Alzheimer’s Disease and not able to stay home alone.
Claudia and I did not go on retreat last fall, but we are again roommates this week.
Here is the link so you can read about Camp Geneva.
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!
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