Trust & Asking

If you haven't seen this TED talk by Amanda Palmer, you absolutely must. Okay, you don't have to but I swear, your missing something if you don't.  Especially if you're an artist because she plays with the concept of how an artist makes a living. By happenstance and personal awareness Amanda fell into a relationship of "trust" and "asking" with her audience.  She found that the people who loved her music were willing to support her in a monetary way, especially when her record label cut her for selling the small sum of 25,000 records.  So now she gives away her music and asks people to support her, 2 separate acts, instead of the one that we usually associate with making a living in the arts: you buy something and pay for it.  She's raised a million bucks this way!  Awesome, yes?

But that got me thinking about visual art and if somehow her brilliant paradigm could translate into offering visual art to audiences in the same way?  So I'm tossing this question out into the stratosphere.  Is there a way this might work for visual art?  What are your thoughts on the subject?  Really, I want to know.  Because I love this idea.

First my little mind goes, well there's the material and the shipping.  But you know Amanda Palmer had to invest a huge wack of money to record her music, and then there's the hours of creation that went into it. It's a big leap, believing in yourself and trusting that others will also believe in you enough that you can continue to do your creative work.

I love the idea of doing something that goes against how our consumer culture is structured.  I love the idea of trusting people.  I love the idea of connection with our audience, whatever the medium.  I love the idea of feeling that people support each other.  Is that fairy tale stuff, people?  Am I related to Peter Pan or some other ethereal character with wings?? Or perhaps that's Polyanna leaning over my left shoulder?

Journey 6"x6" on etsy

There is  a lovely young man who does some heavier work for us around our property and when we first met him we asked what do you charge.  He said, well you pay what you think it's worth.  And you know, we probably always pay more than the going hourly rate.  And we think fondly of him, we think of him as generous and trustworthy.  We know that we are supporting him and his family and it makes us feel good at the end of the day when we hand over a little pile of bills!  We never imagine that he isn't working hard enough or that he's adding in a little time here and there, or that we aren't getting our money's worth.  It's weird, but then so is the way our minds work.  There is something about this "trust" that makes us all feel good and empowered.

oil, cold wax on paper, 8"x10" on etsy

So my mind is turning these things over, sifting through the ideas, following the threads of each loosely woven thought.  There is something about these ideas that carry the scent of the new economy on the breeze. The potential for change, for growth and evolution make me feel excited and hopeful. There is a spiritual aspect to this way of exchanging creative life for monetary support; one that embodies faith, trust and connection.  Am I crazy?  Is this possible?  And if so how do we express it?  Where do we pick up the thread?

I am working on it and if I wake up with any fully hatched brilliance I will let you know.  Last night I woke up from a dream where I'd been bitten by a small copper coloured reptile.  But that's another story.  I'll save it for next time.

Turning Our Ears Around & Getting Cling Free

I am doing two things these days. Eek it's Dharma multi tasking! To start with I have turned my ears around. I know, you'd like to see a picture but I'm afraid you're just going to have to take my word for it.

I have turned them around to facilitate listening to that sense of inner knowing. Okay, the gig's up. It's just a metaphorical turning of the ear. I am talking about listening to the body and the heart.

I am taking an energy healing course and last week saw an energy healer. Now if you think this is all crazy, new age stuff, you'd be..., well let's say that would be your belief. Let's get out the spiritual anti-static dryer sheet and all get cling free. If I were being product specific, I might say let's get some spiritual bounce going here.

As I study the energy of the body I am being reminded how much "information" and wisdom is inside of us, stored in the body in ways we don't know and don't address. The head is one way of knowing. And let me add, there is nothing wrong with what the noggin knows, it is just different from what the heart and the body know. And I am learning more about sensing this inner wisdom, about listening and trusting.

And that brings me to the second part of the equation. I am learning to trust, to trust what happens, to know that it makes sense in some larger version of the world, that it is wider than my small, personal vision. As my friend the Buddhist monk said this morning when we chatted, "something greater is at work here." This is the wonderful, sumptuous, mystery of life. Sometimes we feel exasperated by it, but if we can just appreciate the mystery, there is something quite delicious about the unseen, the unknown. It offers us surprise, amazement and gratitude as rewards. When we allow, interesting synchronistic events move into our line of vision.

So what is up on my Dharma radar is all about listening to the inner wisdom and having faith in what happens. In a way the faith is about acceptance. Byron Katie, in a book I'm reading called "A Thousand Names For Joy" talks about not arguing with what is. It doesn't mean we don't take appropriate action when necessary but we don't cling to "how we think things should be".

And of course in all this there is the good ol' Dharma practice of awareness. To listen to the body and the heart takes practice. You need to be quiet and attentive. So in the spirit of my current Dharma passion, I will be quiet now.

Why Do You Meditate, Beautiful, Rowdy Prisoner?

New little Buddha Painting

8x10 mixed media

Dropping Keys

The small man

Builds cages for everyone

He

Knows.

While the sage,

Who has to duck his head

When the moon is low,

Keeps dropping keys all night long

For the

Beautiful

Rowdy

Prisoners.

- Hafiz

I was out gathering keys tonight because as you all know I need as many as I can scoop up. And I like feeling beautiful and rowdy all at the same time. So kind of Hafiz to let me make a guest appearance in his poem. And the scene of my key gathering was our weekly meditation evening at Stowel Lake Farm. I love to go and slurp up the Dharma. Yes Dharma soup, and afterwards a Dharma sauna (I absorb it through my pores) then jump into a cold lake of my own making.

As I sat tonight I was aware of a sense of wide openness to everything, a stance I mostly forget to have in my everyday life. But that's okay says the wide openness, because wide openness can hold everything, even my forgetfulness. It was a refreshing feeling. That openness was okay with what happens in my studio, with the messiness of the pond outback, with my doubting mind and my awareness of it. The openness chuckled at my comparing mind, my frailties and infirmities. That wide openness was puffed full of air and space, like a bag of something buttery and salty. That glimpse of opennes was a lovely reminder of how to live, perched among the pink clouds and frog song of the evening.

In her Dharma talk, Heather reminded us that a helpful thing to do each time before we sit at home is to ask ourselves why we are sitting, what's important to us, what is it that we really value, personally. This struck me as such a great way to start a sit, because it's so easy to just go in and do our meditation, trying to be present, maybe even just going through the motions. But what if each time we sat we considered what we were aiming ourselves at. For me, the doubter, I would remind myself that faith and trust are important, that kindness and developing a real ability to listen are on my to do (or is that my to "be") list. Peace toward myself and others, an ability to relax, be at home in my body and feel at home in this world would make the list. I'm sure as I sit other things will come up, but this is my initial list. What's on your list? Why do you meditate? What is it that you value? What do you seek to cultivate?

And finally Heather reminded us that our practice is a gift we give to ourselves and the world. It struck me that this is an act of service. We are always thinking and talking in Buddhist circles of how we might serve. But isn't this the most basic form of service, our practice. It radiates out into the world in so many ways, some of them tiny and seemingly unimportant, like when we pick up an ant and carry this small being to the door. Or when we practice the same acts of non-violence to ourselves and those around us (maybe even escorting them to the metaphorical door) Okay, doubt, I'm gonna wrap you in a tissue and put you outside now. Remember when I used to stomp on you with my shoe and then flush you down the toilet? Kindness and tolerance takes many forms. And a lot of it has to do with intention. Which brings us back to why we sit? What is our intention?

Objects In The Rearview Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear

There has definitely been a samsaric quality to the last several weeks. And that's okay, as long as samsara proves to be an educational experience (ah, I have spent many years in Samsara Elementary). What's important is that the suffering you encounter is the suffering that leads to the end of suffering as opposed to the suffering that just leads to more suffering. There has been a quality to some of the days like the dark, foggy fumblings of a bad dream. As in a nightmare, unpleasant things happen and I wander aimlessly in search of solutions. Only on this occasion I am awake, well, sort of.

In this little personal nightmare I am suffering from the effects of stress and environmental toxins brought on by house renovations. There have been the usual host of surprise findings and expenses. We were warned, but like so many things you don't really pay attention until the tarantula lands in your lap. For some reason even though I chose no VOC paint, cork underlay for the wood floors I completely overlooked the issue of off gassing from new cabinetry. And while I chose lovely cement coloured porcelain tile I neglected to consider the chemicals in the grouts and glues used in plumbing sealants. And so what I left unconsidered came to haunt. Isn't that a good Dharma lesson? Doesn't that hold in so many of the arenas of our life? In this case chemical sensitivities stirred with a vengeance. My body offered yet another lesson.

So while my home normally feels like a place refuge, a place to recharge and regroup, I got to experience life with nowhere to take refuge. In a strange way I was homeless, ungrounded, as home became a place that made me feel ill. I had nowhere to hide. The inclination to spin stories of how this would end were enormous. The call of the sirens of depression were alluring. What now? Do I need to rip my kitchen out? Do I need to move? Thrown into all this were some social obligations that left me feeling like a wandering ghost, moving from place to place, going through the motions, feeling unwell, feeling sad that I was unwell, imagining all others as well. Samsara on the personal big screen.

I tried to muster the stations of faith, reminding myself to look up, rather than despair. One moment I could remember, the next I was lost in confusion. I imagined the worst. My physical symptoms seemed stuck. No matter how much wheatgrass juice I drank, how many salads I ate, how much oil of oregano I sucked back, my symptoms were stuck. I followed the little trail of breadcrumbs toward a solution. I even had a nightmare about being trapped in a cul de sac in a hillside neighbourhood! I inched along like a sad little, blind worm. I called a naturopath I have seen. I researched ways of dealing with off gassing. I wandered, disheartened in samsara, looking for an escape hatch. I asked for help. Sometimes I wallowed, sometimes I groped my way forward.

And while I am a rather staunch believer in the worst outcome, this time I was proven wrong. I followed a thread to a biological dentist (my cold symptoms had morphed into dental pain). Surprisingly this grey haired, Harry Potter glassed, wizard helped dislodge my stuck physical symptoms with his bag of holistic tricks. Another day as I sorted lethargically amongst some papers I found a pamphlet for a product from AFM that when painted on cabinetry, minimizes offgassing. Slowly I was making headway and revisiting the land of the living as I wobbled back and forth between hope and despair. Slowly I was cultivating a landscape of possibility.

I learned that the stories I had conjured were habitual delusions and that yes, Virginia sometimes there is a Santa Claus (no dental work required!). I learned how hard it is to rest in the unknown, how it is so uncomfortable that I often prefer a bad bedtime story to no story at all. I learned that some deeply entrenched fears habitually send me heading straight for the panic button. This time around I noticed there is another button on the dashboard. Faintly I read it's tiny letters, "equanimity".

It has been a long, tiring couple of weeks. And there it is, samsara receding in the rearview mirror. But I am reminded that vigilance is an important quality in this life of the Dharma. Sometimes you find your reminders in the strangest places: printed on the bottom of that rearview mirror I find the words: "Objects in the rearview mirror are closer than they appear."

Who Is That Tapping On My Cocoon?

Impermanence is very busy at my house. Impermanence is definitely pushing its way around at this address as furniture moves on to new homes, scads of papers get torn and recycled, boxes fill with belongings and give-aways.

This evening's round of drawer cleaning produced my mother's birth certificate, my parent's marriage certificate and both of their cremation certificates. And there it was, in a bottom drawer, the tangible leftovers of a life, some letters and papers, bits of pressed, inked fibre. A little sad, a little tug at the heart. And then the practical matters: snip up the plastic cards with scissors, tuck mementos into a folder.

And it seems in this state of getting ready to move I am more conscious of this movement, the flow of impermanence as it reaches its tentacles into all the nooks and crannies of the house and our lives. It is good to just be carried along with it. But I notice how sometimes I hang on to a rock on the shore or grab for a strand of seaweed, trying to slow down the swooshing of impermanence all around me.

And while my homeless friend has an intimate relationship with impermanence, what she has really taught me a lot about this week, is about listening to that "still, small voice" that each one of us has inside, that voice that can provide the direction, the voice we have such a hard time hearing with our doubting-thomas socks pulled up around our ears.

You see when I finally found her a potential place to park off the street, she didn't do a happy dance. She sat with it, consulted her pendulum and decided no, that wasn't the right option for her at this time. It was hard for me to imagine that she would not grasp at the first opportunity. But there she sat in all her dignity and composure, with a sense that she needed to follow some other options. She was so grateful for the offer and said all she really needed, the important part, was our support. She felt cared for and loved and supported by those of us who had come forward to offer help and that was what really mattered. And so we parted ways that day both feeling unattached to the outcomes and really enjoying each others loving presence. We agreed that we would talk next, when we needed to, that we each knew how to find the other.

Her fine example reminded me to slow down from the frantic busyness of getting things done and listen for "what is it good to do next?" I wish that someone so wise and full of teachings will come into your life. I wish that they will present you with interesting puzzles and predicaments and little hurdles to jump over as you run through the days of your life. I suspect they will come disguised in some interesting form, perhaps a bird with a broken wing, a lonely neighbour, a broken hearted co-worker. Will you hear it as your call to action, as a place to breathe life into the Dharma or will it be just another sad, depressing or slightly annoying event tapping at your cocoon.

About helping and attachment

Here is the continuing saga... In my head I knew I shouldn't be attached to how the story of my friend without a home played out. I meet with a group of friends every Wednesday morning and I had great hopes that someone there would have something to offer that might help this woman, a place to park her vehicle off the street, a temporary shelter where she could exchange work or care for housing, some sort of lead. But at the end of the morning it seemed no one could think of an option that might work. Maybe someone might even have a lead on the little chinook camper that she was determined was the only replacement for her wrecked camper. I felt my heart sink and saw all the signs of disappointment and attachment to results when the morning ended. A common scenario I think, we know some spiritual truth in our heads, but it plays out differently in our lives. Theory and practice sit at different ends of the highway. There it is reminding us of our work, the suffering we cause ourselves through our wanting, even if what we want is wholesome and/or altruistic.

I made some phone calls to people in the helping professions that I know and followed a few threads. I could still feel that agitation of wanting, the wanting to resolve the problem, of wanting to get it taken care of. None of my leads produced a definitive answer but each one seemed to lead in the direction of a solution. I could see the inclination to impatience. Where are those return phone calls?!

In the afternoon I went to visit my friend in her motorhome. She wasn't there. And for some reason that made me feel like she was okay, that life was going on for her, that I didn't need to rescue her. I left her a note and later she called back to thank me for my concern and offers and to remind me that I had already done some things for her, that all she really needed was for me to be there for her, that I didn't need to rescue her.

And so I relaxed into what else had to be done in my life right now which consists of finding homes for the pieces of furniture and other "stuff" that I don't need or want to take with me when I move and finding a place to move to when March 1st rolls around. I no longer felt the stress of one more thing that needed to be done.

And so tomorrow will open with a few options that I can follow up for her, now without that insistent attachment to the outcome. Because she has trust and faith in the universe that she was able to convey to me I can relax into whatever comes up. It doesn't mean I won't follow all the leads that come up. It just means I won't be stressed out or feel need tugging on my coat sleeve. What a gift she has offered me. Who is helping who?

Being With The Body

This is a picture of the Mandala of Chenrezig or the Buddha of Com- passion, the day before it's completion, last Saturday. It is apparently the largest sand mandala ever done here in North America. It's hard to see in this photo but it was luminous under the gallery lights, bursting with detail and complexity. An amazing piece of art, taking 3 weeks to create with several monks working from 10-4 each day. (And never a crib note in sight!) It will remain on display at the AGGV until Dec 5th when a ceremony will be performed and it will be swept into the sea.

I have had lots of time for contemplation today as I lazed about after having an infected tooth extracted. The young dentist who performed the extraction looked more like he should be getting on a school bus and as he sunk in the needle he talked to his assistant about Archie and Veronica getting married. When I could speak without biting him, I commented that it seemed more like Archie and Veronica should be moving into a Senior's Home. In truth this chit chat was an exhibit of compassion, of his kind wish to put me at ease, to amuse, too uplift my spirits, to offer us all an opportunity to lighten up. He was willing to do that when in truth he could have worked away in silence.

The Tricycle Daily Dharma was about "Pain" today so it couldn't have been more apropos for me. It was a helpful reminder to just be with the pain, rather than reject it. As I sat waiting for the procedure and feeling a bit antsy and nervous I imagined the comfort that people who believe in a "God" get from thinking, "God will take care of me." And then I reminded myself of the Buddhist version of that, something my Zen teacher has said, "the Buddhas are always raining down help." It's about faith, really. And that quelled the panic somehow, the urge to get up and run out of the office. And the procedure was fine and as I laughed with the Dental Assistant afterward, it is the anticipation of most things that is the worst. You know the old Mark Twain saying, "I have had many terrible experiences in my life, some of which have actually happened."

What I did really become aware of today is the subtle, almost imperceptible way I hold myself against pain, against ideas that I don't want, against unpleasant scenarios that seem to play in my head. By having time to lie very still, I could watch how certain thoughts produced instant tension in my body. I could go from a little twinge in a tooth, to an unpleasant thought about what that might indicate, to a titanic version of a dental disaster, all in a flash. And I could feel the tension it produced in the body. And the light went on (and this time there was somebody home) that I spend most of my time with my body in this state of subtle tension. I experienced how soothing it was for the body to completely relax, to not be on guard against anything. I am not a hunter-gatherer roaming the Savannahs, yet that on-guard, ready for danger feeling, seems to rest (or should I say un-rest) just below the surface of every waking moment.

And though I am so far from Christian that I might be considered "Christianaphobic", an oddly Christian sounding phrase popped into my mind as I lay there quietly, enjoying total relaxation. "Thy will be done". Hmmm, where did that come from, I wondered? The Zen group I used to belong had some terminology that seemed uncomfortably "Christian" to me and I suspect I heard this phrase from a certain Abbot. And what it was really saying to me as I lay there was "why don't you just relax, you're not in charge here. This is not your show, your restaurant .... you don't need to direct the waiters and the cooks and the dish pit. Just know that things are somehow being looked after and you don't need to worry about them. Just experience them as they arrive." To continue with the restaurant analogy, taste what comes to you, drink deeply, don't be greedy for certain tastes and reject others. Somewhere the meal that is right for your karmic plate is getting cooked up (ingredients get adjusted along the way). Bon appetit! Okay I just have to throw in a one liner. I can't resist. It seems vaguely related. A good friend of mine has a signature on his email that I love. "At the feast of the ego, everyone leaves hungry."

What is Your Mind Drinking?

Well this is not the Green Tara as promised but it is green. It's an oldy (from the summer) that I realized I hadn't photographed. It has a high gloss resin finish that gives it a kind of glistening sheen that is quite pleasing. A little recycled prayer flags, some hand stamping combined with a little acrylic paint and some image transfer. The colours remind me of kool-aid or freshie, if anyone remembers that kool-aid tag along.

Today I have been working with patience, trust and surrender. I won't say too much but it has to do with real-estate goings-on. Who said "the doubting mind is hell". Seems like a quote I've heard. And in it's effort to grab onto something, you can watch the mind reach for a tumbler of single malt doubt. Strong, enticing stuff, doesn't take much to get you going. Somehow the mind prefers known intoxicants to standing on the edge of nothing, staring into the abyss of wait and see. It's not a bad abyss, it's just we're so unfamiliar with that whole experience that we don't really know how to balance there on the edge. The edge makes us nervous and twitchy.

The other thing I have been watching the mind do, is go over the details and the facts, combing them for some type of certainty, hoping to pull up some gleaming shard of reassurance that everything is just fine. But in truth we are standing on the edge. And that is fine. It's good to learn how to balance on one foot, not waiting for the other shoe to drop.

So as I go about my day I get to see how important it is to be aware of the little tricks my mind likes to play, the stories it likes to conjure, kind of like a tempestuous 10 year old that likes to tell stories that scare all the small children in the lunchroom. I can cast a stern eye on it and tell it to stop or I can simply give a little grin and remind it that I see what it's up to.

So there's kool-aid and stories even though summer's over. Maybe it's time to put them away and bring out the candy apples and pumpkins and get ready for the Hungry Ghosts.

What Is Your Work?

A Day's Work

Mixed Media on Matte Board

8" x 8" matted, image size 3.75" x 4.5"

$25 includes shipping in North America

"Your work is to discover your work and then with all your heart to give yourself to it." the Dhammapada.  I bought a card with a beautiful Buddha and this quote on it when I was on my way to a Meditation retreat quite a few years ago.  It spoke to me because my koan at that time was "what am I supposed to be doing?"

Work has a lot of meanings and connotations.  At it's deepest level we talk about our life's work.  What is it?  For me there are two important aspects to our life's work and they aren't necessarily separate.

There is our spiritual work and if we are fortunate our spiritual work and our work in the world have an obvious connection.  They feel integrated somehow.  But if I had to say what the most important work is that we do in our lifetime here I believe without a doubt it is our spiritual work.  Here's a good example. My mother has known for a long time that not having love shown to her as a child resulted in her being unable to communicate love to others.  At 94, through the work we have done together, she has realized with great shock, the impact this has had on others.  When she talks about it I hear the deep regret in her voice and suggested that just having this realization is such a big accomplishment for a lifetime. I told her that this well could be her life's work.  I think it releases a lot of karma and allows for her to move past that position in her next life.  My friend the Buddhist monk suggests that my mother still has the opportunity to change her behaviour now, in this life time, to act on that realization.  While we are alive it is never too late.

Finding our work in the world can be confusing for a lot of us.  Not that long ago I used to quip "I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up."  Many people confessed that this was also true for them.  But it seems in the last couple of years I have committed to my art and writing.  Rather than doing it half heartedly or citing all the reasons it won't work, I have learned to just do it, to quote a running shoe commercial.  I don't ask questions, or tell myself it's foolish.  I don't get too attached to making a great sum of money from it.  I just follow what it seems good to do, stumbling along the way, getting up, dusting myself off and carrying on.  For the most part I have given up trying to understand it with my head.  These are my passions, what I feel called to do and I don't need to ask the unanswerable question, "why?"

Some people have the good fortune to be born knowing what their work is and the rest of us, it seems, need to spend some time being still enough to receive some insight on the question of what to do and then be willing to hear what comes up.  Step number 3 it seems is to just do it and have faith that we are doing what we are supposed to.  This doesn't mean we can't adjust our course or take input from other places, it just means that like so many things in our life, the direction comes from deep inside, from that "still, small voice" as my Zen teacher calls it.  And sometimes we have to be very quiet to hear it over the din of everyday life and all the adverts and mainstream culture that tugs us in different directions.  What are you hearing?

My Lemonade Stand

Salt Spring Island is bulging with artists and open studios.  Every crook & nanny here does art and every nook and cranny is crammed with art.  The Saturday market in Ganges is like Manhattan at rush hour (Okay so I've never been to Manhattan at rush hour or any other time)  but you're getting the picture.  I brought some art with me to the island from my bigger island that I live on and  poked and snooped around, thinking I might find a venue.  My work lay in walking the middle road of checking out possibilities but trying not to be attached to outcomes.  The market, because the traffic is so high, has as many rules as customers.  You have to live here for at least 6 mos and jump through hoops of fire to get a spot.  You can tell the old timers by their singed butts (no this is not really true, well maybe, but I never checked that closely).

But we did spend the morning at the market as customers, after parking far enough away that we had to pack a lunch to get there.  But there are fabulous local treasures and we wouldn't miss it .  We bought some locally made curry spices, some pea shoots and sunflower sprouts and a salad roll stuffed with sprouts from the sprout guy.  We had a shot of wheat grass juice from our friend Jim, at Rawsome Living Foods and tasted his awesome raw homous.  We bought some of his raw granola but snoozed too late to get any raw flax crackers.  We sampled some amazing pasta and pesto from a little shop with a serious Italian chef.  We bought handmade soap in little bargain mystery packs.  It was a quintessential summer market day.  Sun blazing, people everywhere, music and tasty smells wafting over everything.

After that we retired back to our lovely home exchange and I decided to put a sign out by the road and hang my art in the garden.  It was fun and in fact I love doing this.  I arranged my journals on a rustic old saw horse and put out a couple of lovely baskets, one with cards and the other with matted prints.  I put out some original collage work on a little black cafe table and we found some hooks that would hold a number of original canvases on the trellis deck railing.   I put out a lovely little bamboo dish of scrabble tile pendants, poured a cool drink and sat down in the shade.

I watered some plants, did a few on-line chores and then started to wonder where everyone was.  The mind always looking for action began it's chattering.   Len commented on how nice the colours of the paintings looked in the bright sunshine and took some pictures.  My mind on the other hand started to rumble, "not one person has driven down from the road".  I looked at the paintings and decided that was because they really weren't very nice.  And on and on. blah, blah, blah ....  We did our qi gong on the lawn in a the shade of a hawthorn tree.  And as my mind quieted  I caught it by it's tail and yanked away the banana it had been chewing on.  "Okay, that logic, well it defies logic ... How could people decide my art was crappy if they hadn't even seen it?"  I inquired.   Such is the nature of the mind.  It tells us stories that appear to be based on logic but are so fuzzy you can hardly recognize them for their furry coating.

And so we chuckled and said it's kind of like the lemonade stand you had when you were a kid.  You spent a lot of time setting it up in front of your house, making the lemonade and signs, finding chairs and change.  The process and preparation were exciting.  And then there was the sitting and the waiting ... and the minutes ... and the hours went by.  And after a while you got tired of it.  So you drank all the lemonade or gave it away to your friends.  But at the end of the day you were happy and at some point you did it all over again. 

Maybe my lemonade stand was quieter than the sound of  one hand clapping but we passed a lovely summer afternoon in a beautiful garden.  And I was reminded once again not to be too attached to outcomes  and to have faith.  It was an opportunity to think about what might work in the future.  And I was reminded that I had fun getting it set up and it wasn't really a problem unless I made it into one.  Always, we have the choice.  So there was the Dharma as usual waiting to show it's wise little face and offer some teaching, even on a sunny, summer afternoon, proving once again that the Dharma is always waiting patiently to offer us just what we need.  And if you're on Salt Spring Island tomorrow, you just might see my little sign by the red bicycle when you're driving down the road.

 

Hanging Out With The Pink Buddha

Pink Buddha

Acrylic on Matte Board

8" x 8" matted, image dimension 3.75 "x 4.5"

$25  free shipping in North America

I was wondering what to say about this little pink Buddha.  First I thought I might talk about the colour "pink" so I looked through my favourite book about colour (all about colour, by Janice Lindsay).   I toyed with regaling you with facts about pink.  Perhaps telling you that pink is calming and jail cells are often painted pink for this reason, weightlifters cannot do as many bench presses in a pink room as in a red one.  "And before WW ll pink was for boys because it was considered red's little brother".  But I decided against any of that.

I think I painted this little pink Buddha because the Buddha is always with me in some way, riding around on my shoulder or in my pocket, peeking out at me, patiently observing my human bumbling.  Some days I easily get caught and confused but today I somehow managed to slide along the surface of the day, without creating or getting drawn into any drama or stories.  I talked to a realtor, several friends, had to pay our taxes, organize passport documents, and my neighbour who teaches me many things offered an opportunity for me to watch my anger rise like a little brush fire and then left unattended it sputtered out.  

Today was a study in impermanence and faith.  The scenery and conversations were like passing clouds.   Can't give me a ride (a little internal grumble) and then it's okay.  Not the news I wanted to hear regarding real estate (a little internal grumble) and then a sense that I could have faith that everything would work out in the end, even if I didn't quite know how.  Unhooked and seemingly unattached to outcomes I skimmed lightly along like one of those little air hockey pucks.  I could acknowledge that the universe doesn't exist to please me and I could sense the confusion in those who seemed unthoughtful.  

It was fun to watch.  And I have no answer as to why some days I can be put off my game without much provocation and then there are days like to day  where I can somehow feel unattached to outcomes.  When I make comments like this to my kind teacher, she will often say, "it is the fruits of your training," but at some level it feels like a bit of a synergistic mystery to me.

So it is a day that I feel thankful for because it felt harmonious and peaceful and yet I know that sometimes the days I learn the most are the difficult days, fraught with challenge and dark feelings.  They are all good in the grand scheme of things.  But today the Buddha was pink and calming and for that respite I am truly grateful.

The House of Scribble Moon

The House of  Scribble Moon  

Original Mixed Media On Matte Board

Matted size 8"x8"  Inside window dimension 3.75" x 4.5"

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More little houses.  There is something so lovely and comforting about these little houses for me.  I could think of a thousand reasons why, but I prefer to say it's a mystery why I find these little paper abodes so satisfying, a lovely mysterious puzzle, like so much of life.  And I love the bit of poem that insisted on being the title for this piece ... Scribble Moon.

Tonight I am thinking about faith which for me is a kind of mystery in itself.  It has this bigger than human understanding quality.  It is about letting go and standing back.  Kind of like setting off fireworks, in a way.  You light the wick, stand back and then watch wide eyed to see what happens.  Sometimes there is a fantastic show and sometimes they just go phphphtttt.  We don't know why and yet we know there is a reason.

I am thinking about faith because I was talking to my daughter tonight about some new direction she's taking in her life.  She was looking at a new job, but the trial run didn't work out so well.  It didn't feel right, it didn't stimulate any passion or enthusiasm and then she didn't hear back about it.  As my Zen teacher would say, "A no is as good as a yes."  It moves you closer to an answer by eliminating one option.  So she is on to step 2, checking out some schooling options.  And oddly some money has appeared as if from nowhere that will make this possible if she decides her heart is there.  

So I reminded her about faith when I spoke to her, that the direction is making itself known.  And it is just interesting to watch things unfold as she finds her way.  She was stumped for a long time, and just working, happily enough.  Now some less than satisfactory circumstances in the work place have been her call to action, her motivation to move to the next stage.  It is fun to watch when you have faith.  I don't feel disappointed that she didn't get the kitchen job she had applied for.  I am not worried that things won't turn out for her.  I am not attached to having her do a particular thing.  It has taken me a while to get to this place.  But I have faith that life is taking her where she needs to be.  I suspect things will unfold in a way that leads her away from working in a traditional kitchen environment to a job with more dimension but that is only my hunch.   I have faith that she will find her place in this world, a place where she can make a contribution (where as she puts it she can be part of the solution, not part of the problem).

I have faith that the moon will continue to rise and that I will continue to scribble.

Be Like A Big Fat Happy Orange Buddha!

I bought this happy little guy with some birthday bucks I received.  I'd been lusting after him in all his orangeness (is this improper to say about the Buddha?) in a local shop and finally made the choice to bring him home with me.  I mostly don't like this image of the Buddha, preferring more serene looking ones, but there was something so intensely right about this fat, happy, shiny orange Buddha.  He truly does make me smile when I pass him.

Yesterday I had a lovely Dharma chat with a friend that just returned from England.  While she was there she saw Tenzin Palmo, whose book "Cave In the Snow" is a truly amazing account of her 12 year retreat in the Himalayas. My friend was smitten with Tenzin Palmo, her clarity and insight.  As we chatted about our respective Dharma experiences my friend made the comment that Tenzin Palmo had said "Westerners are so confused."  So I had to ask, if Easterners were less confused.  A recent comment I had read said basically that we are all somewhat confused until we're enlightened.

My friend's understanding was that Tenzin felt we westerners are more confused because we lack a sense of self.  Again I had to check on what that meant.  And she said we are often beseiged by self hatred which is not part of the Eastern mindset and our confusion stems from this.  I  remember a story about the Dalai Lama being asked about self-hatred.  When the question was posed to him he spent a long time chatting with his translator as the concept of self-hatred (or contempt, or dislike, if you prefer) was so incomprehensible to him.  He was apparently visibly saddened when he learned that we Westerners spend a lot of time in this state.  

This mindset of self hatred is the opposite of confidence according to Tenzin Palmo.   And  so because we don't like or believe or trust in ourselves, our doubting minds are very active and cause us to second guess ourselves, to wander around thinking, "now should I do this or should I do that?  How do I decide?"  And we often become paralyzed with inactivity and fear of making the wrong choice (that's my koan sometimes).  Or we run off and make completely goofy choices that reverberate with suffering later on, simply because we have been unable to consider our options clearly.  

This comment on confidence was a really interesting aspect of Tenzin Palmo's teaching because when I recently did a little Dharma exercise in "feeding my demons" what came up for me was precisely this issue, "have more confidence, belief, faith in yourself."  My habitual tendency to think in this way goes something like this: "oh, this might work for others but not for me" or somewhere hiding in the back of my mind, often in a subtle way, lies the belief that things won't work out or I can't possibly succeed at this or that task.  I suspect I am not alone in thinking these thoughts.  

And that is a place where I am directing some Dharma energy these days, chipping way, or perhaps I prefer melting away the solid, frozen waste land of self-hatred and self doubt.  Like an iceberg this tendency protrudes deep below the surface, only showing its icy tip in the landscape.  When we think of self confidence we are not talking about arrogance or aggression or a me-first kind of way of being in the world.  We are not talking about encouraging "pride" which in fact is one of the 5 hindrances and is really just a thin table cloth spread over the picnic of self doubt and hatred.

So that's the word for today kids!  Be like the big, fat orange happy Buddha.  Love your self, that true essential fat, orange Buddha nature in you that is always there.  Know that inside you, you possess everything you need to find your way in this world.  Because only when we truly love ourselves can we share our love, generosity and compassion with others.  Go out there and play nice (and don't forget to have some milk and cookies!)

Pink Buddha Peels An Onion

I was thinking that the lattice grid in this mixed media piece I recently finished was bamboo fencing.  It was pointed out to me that in fact it looks more like the Buddha in jail.  I agreed and symbolically and metaphorically it is kind of appropriate.  Really we are all Buddhas imprisoned by our attachments, our habitual tendencies and whatever else obscures our Buddha nature.  So maybe this image came from somewhere deeper than my conscious awareness.

In Buddhism they often use the analogy of peeling the layers of an onion for the work we do in practice.  And I am working away at another layer, tugging way at it like some little sharp toothed creature in the compost bin.  It looks a lot like some previous layers (onions are like that).  (They also make you cry sometimes.)  I am seeing how deeply my "wanting" of things colours my vision.  I am seeing it in an "Oh yeah, I'm getting that now," bang-yourself-on-the side- of the- head kind of way.  

In this specific instance (booking back to back weekends with art shows)  (and my Zen teacher always says it's individual situations that count, generalizations just don't work for practice)  I came to see the domino effect of "wanting": wanting to generate some activity, wanting to make something happen, wanting to sell some art, wanting to take control.  Was I trying to escape boredom?  Was I trying to create the life I imagined others to be living?  Did I belief that some success or outcome in the world would make me happy?  Yes, yes, and yes.  Also let me qualify here that this action that was not right for me might be fine for someone else.  For me it fed into an deeply ingrained habitual tendency.

This wanting tipped a domino that rippled perfectly down the line, as dominoes do, and caused some suffering(ouch those dominoes are harder than you think!).  As I looked back at what I'd done (hindsight can be a wonderful teacher when we're willing to sit in his class) I could see not only what I'd done on this occasion (not choose carefully, not think about timing, imagine how things should go) but see the pattern stretching back in other situations in my life.  It was sobering and instructive.  

What I was really reminded of was the best way to live my life.  It seems a little clearer, a little less confusing from this side of the domino pile.  It consists of living from my true self, my inner knowing.  How do I do this?  Well it requires some patience which is not always a strong point of mine.  It requires me to really contemplate the question "what is it good to do?"  and then not act until I feel clear about it.  As I thought about the whole process what life was really asking of me was that I go into my studio and paint, not worry so much about results and sales, just trust a little.  

In a way it is about being true to who you are, instead of listening to all the clamouring that goes on out in the world.  A phrase that has often come to me is "what is yours will come to you."  I hope that doesn't sound like magical thinking or new agey or "secretey" because it isn't meant to.  It's about letting go.  And ultimately letting go is about faith and trust.  It's about doing what needs to be done.  It's about acknowledging that ultimately this little me is not in control.  I've probably said all this before.  So if it seems like I'm repeating myself it's because I need to hear it again.  And of course it never stands against appropriate action.  It doesn't mean we should hide ourselves away in our studios and never do any marketing and promotion.  It means we should contemplate these activities as deeply as we would other aspects of our lives.  And here I use the word contemplate as opposed to "think" because it implies that deep inner knowing, the "sitting with" the question until it becomes clear.  It is not something generated by pure logic but comes from a deeper place and is a deeper way of knowing.  When we can truly connect with this place then we don't act out of desperation or wanting or fear.

I will end with a quote from John Daido Loori that appeared in the most recent issue of Shambhala Sun:  "None of the antidotes to stress -- numbing ourselves, running away, the various therapies -- will ever really get to the root of it.  We actually hold on to our stress.  It is a way of holding on to our positons, our beliefs, our sense of being right -- our self.    In that tightness and rigidity, the body cannot deal with it and the mind cannot deal with it.  We suffer because we will not let go."

Day 99 and counting

I've been playing with photoshop (I use the term play loosely), creating some new business cards, and a little ad sheet for the art tour.  I am remembering how to transform and sharpen things, to work with layers (see there's Dharma in photoshop).  This lovely little Buddha is simply a photo taken somewhere in our travels that I have altered a bit in photoshop and turned a lovely shade of orange.

This is the 99th Day of 100 Days of Dharma kids (remember that song, 99 bottles of beer on the wall?) What does that have to do with anything you ask?  Well nothing really except that I think it's a human tendency to get a bit giddy as we near the finish line.  Or maybe we put on the pressure.  OMG it's the second last day I need to say something important, profound, sum it all up.  Another human tendency too don't you think?

It's all about how we use our minds.  Ask any athlete.  When skill becomes fairly equal among athletes, it's the use of the mind that  is one of the determining factors in successful outcomes.  Doubt, fear, focus, determination, so many things are dependent on how we use our minds

So I guess if I were to start thinking about what aspects of the Dharma have been most important to me, the skillful use of the mind would be a big one.   It covers so much ground.  Right view or understanding is all about how we use our minds.  Are we using faulty logic and coming to wrong conclusions about life.  Instead of seeing life's difficulties as opportunities, do they make us feel bitter and cynical?  And the mind can be a powerful perveyor of doubt and fear?  Do we run with these stories and find ourselves down the rabbit hole or do we notice where we're going and decline Alice's invitation.  

The mind is a powerful tool if we learn how to work with it.  My friend the monk quotes her teacher as saying, "the mind makes a good servant but not a very good master".   So while we use our minds, it is our hearts that provide direction (or our Buddha nature, or whatever you like to call it).  I learn so much from watching my own mind, what it gets up to, the silly games it plays.  And then I can remember (when I'm mindful) to have compassion for others because I know how hard it is to behave in ways that make sense.

Patience is another really important aspect of the Dharma for me.  I am  not particularly patient by nature.  Like everyone else I have my ideas of how things should be and I want them to be that way yesterday.  I want the no fuss, no muss version that they are always trying to sell me on TV.  But as time goes on I learn that "patience is the reward of patience" (this quote is attributed to St. Augustine).  Sitting teaches me patience.  And observing life from the perspective of the Dharma teaches me patience.  I have learned to see that things arrive in their own good time, not when I want them to.  This has been a really valuable lesson for me.  It's not on my timelines (whatever IT is).  I understand things after 100 times of getting it wrong, if that's what it takes.  There's not a lot that I can "make" happen.  I can do my part and then let the rest go, because ultimately, I have learned a bigger picture is playing itself out.  Of course I don't always remember this on the spot, but eventually with some patience I get to that place.

And learning to listen to the "still, small voice within" that has been an important and mysterious part of the Dharma for me.  Learning "how" to do that .... it's not always easy but as time goes on I see that it is the only way to really arrive at a decision about anything important.  Call it your intuition, your sixth sense, or listening to your heart, somehow we all have that wisdom inside us that ultimately knows the truth, the right action.  We just have to learn how to access it and not second guess ourselves.  It takes practice and faith....

And there is another important aspect of the Dharma, faith.  In an early blog I think I mentioned that in my 20's I was very clear that I had no concept of faith.  Faith meant believing something without logical cause and that didn't make any sense to me, at least on a thinking level.  I'm sure I made intuitive decisions.  I just didn't think of them as being based on faith.  To me faith and trust now mean believing that this is a friendly universe we live in, though sometimes it might not seem that way.  To have faith means that when things happen that I would not choose, I now believe that something larger is working itself out, that I don't necessarily need to know or figureout.  I have faith that truth triumphs over evil every time.

And mostly I feel grateful just to have found the Dharma, to be fortunate enough to have heard the teachings and have the time to spend learning and practicing and contemplating it.  This is my great good fortune.   I wish you much good fortune.

Faith, Trust And Children

Quite a while ago and at the urging of my Zen teacher I gave up "wanting" certain things for my daughter.  She is grown (a whole 26 and has been living at the other end of the country for the last 4 years).  Her mother thinks she is underemployed and has scads of potential that she isn't using.  But in truth this isn't any of her mother's business.  I only get one life to live for myself and that's my own.  The news flash is everyone else gets to live their own life as they see it.

In the past this wanting has created a kind of unspoken tension.  All my questions and suggestions imply that she is somehow not doing the right thing or that she is broken and needs fixing.  Not a particularly helpful or supportive message to be sending out to someone you love.  Yet that's what we do sometimes in the name of love, in wanting to help, in thinking we know best.  We get confused and have a hard time seeing these close personal relationships very clearly.   It often takes a little bit (or a lot) of pain before the picture comes into focus in the view finder.  Confusion and attachment can make a bitter brew that choke our relationships and cause suffering all round.

After a painful kind of visit last summer and a lot of work I began to let  go of my expectations and desires for her.  She has a full and busy life and we came to accept that it is okay to talk to her every two weeks.  We could accept that she is not a big phone chatter and doesn't feel the need to check in and talk about all the details of her life.   And there seems to be  less implied pressure in the new improved phone conversations.  I like to think that the lack of grasping, of needing her to be a certain way can be felt across the miles and makes for pleasanter conversation. 

The really interesting thing to me is that she called this morning to ask me to read a covering letter and resume she is using to apply for a new job.  Finally time and circumstances have taken their course (that all my prodding could not make happen) and she has had enough of her current job as a cook.  I am not  promoting magical thinking but it is interesting how when we let go of some attachment, the energy can change and circumstances may change in surprising ways.  And through all the hard work I've put in around this issue, I am truly okay with whatever happens.  

So I could tell her that it was a really good resume and cover letter that she'd written and that I'd hire her even if she wasn't my daughter!  She then pointed out a couple of things that might be good to add and I agreed and offered a little input.  Then she went on her way to put in her 11th hour application.

As my friend the monk pointed out my daughter is employed, looks after herself, has lots of friends and is happily making a life for herself.  Sure she has her own karmic little package, but we all do.  And that is up to her.  So I offered my input when asked for it and wished her luck with her application.  I look forward to hearing the next chapter and know whatever it is that happens, the universe is as it should be, and something greater is always working itself out.  The ability to rest in that place is the true meaning of faith and trust.

Fear, Faith And Flying

Yesterday I wrote about fear in relationship mostly to health and the body.  Someone left a comment that our allopathic medical system is "fear" based and that seems a pretty accurate description of it in many ways.  We are afraid of pain and suffering and illness, and ultimately death. And strangely we are often most afraid of our fear.  So much of this bubbles below the surface like toxic ground water that it's no wonder we easily participate in a fear based health care system.

This morning I was thinking about fear from a slightly different angle.  As I sat, a conversation I had with Bunny the cat's owner, popped into my head.  Bunny lives here for now and the discussion revolved around would Bunny stay or go elsewhere at the end of the agreed on 9 month cat sit.  Bunny's owner said she didn't want to make a decision about Bunny's future from a place of lack or fear.  I had said Bunny could stay here permanently as I don't think Bunny would be happy to make another move.  Bunny's owner felt this was not the place to be coming from.  She went away to ponder this and Bunny's fate has not been decided at this point.  But the more I think about it, the more I agree with this wise young woman who has spent the last 8 months in a Buddhist monastery.

This morning I could somehow really appreciate this "not coming from fear" position.  It reminded me that the opposite of fear is really faith.  Faith that  things will bring us what we need, not necessarily what we want, but what we need.  And what could make more sense in the grand scheme of things than getting what we need.  It is a position that asks, "what do we know, really?" and reminds us that there is always a bigger picture than our little selves can see.  And those of us who have spent a lot of our lives waiting for the proverbial "other shoe to drop" need to be reminded every now and then "that the universe is not out to get us."  (and it doesn't wear size 12 army boots)

This morning I was thinking about some life changes we want to make and how the uncertain economic times keep coming up in our conversations with people.  And so this morning I was thinking not so much about Bunny's future and fear based choices but how we will approach a potential relocation.  I thought I want to try that "not fear thing", kinda like, oh yeah I'll try that new ice cream flavour, over there.  I want to try and do this without caving in to the predominant thinking that's fouling the air these days, a fear based, doom and gloom flavour (I'll have a double scoop of grim reaper, with plague sprinkles, please).  

Approaching things with faith and confidence doesn't mean you throw caution overboard, or send your rational mind on vacation.  As my friend, the monk would say, you do things "whole heartedly".  She herself has demonstrated this through a number of moves over the last few years.  Even though some choices defied cautious logic, she said, this seems good to do (after listening for that inner direction), let's have faith and act and see what happens.  In one instance we found her the most fabulous house, with a lake view, and lovely neighbours where the landlord's agent agreed to lower the rent.  What happened was truly beyond belief.

So, to have faith takes courage; to keep remembering through all the small acts of the day takes awareness and vigilance.  It is so easy to slop into those comfy old fear slippers, they may have a few holes but they are always waiting for us by the bed.  To just be open and present and take action, that is our job.  And no small one.  It is our practice.  There is a quote to the effect that there is an energy, a momentum created by our taking the first step.  Without that first step, we just sit around and overthink things, tell ourselves all the reasons why our plans won't work.  We offer ourselves the opposite of hope and call it rational and sensible thinking.  Man we can be bad company for ourselves, sometimes!

I will end with this quote that I love by Guillaume Apollinaire:  "Come to the edge," he said.    They said, "we are afraid."  "Come to the edge," he said.  They came.  He pushed them and they flew.  So get out the wax and feathers, we've got some flyin' to do.

Tuning in to the Dharma on TV

It was a cold and wintery night here and we took the opportunity to make some comfort food and snug up in front of ye old telly.  I was reminded that you can find the Dharma anywhere (even on the boob tube!) as we watched a show on the food channel where contestants vie for the title of top chef and a bit of spare change.  I have watched it off and on over the months and tonight was the grande finale.  There was a woman in it who has always appeared graceful and kind.  This is not always the case in the heat of kitchen combat.  

And tonight I saw pure Dharma unfold, and it was a cautionary tale for me.  This woman like all of us has produced some things of great beauty with personality and passion but she has also produced some of the biggest flops on the show.  But somehow she has always managed to regain her composure and shine again.  

So the pressure was on tonight and each contestant got a sous chef to help them cook the best 3 course meal they could.  Their helpers were former contestants.  At one point in the meal preparation, Karla, this delightful chef that I was rooting for, took a suggestion from her helper that altered the preparation of her main course in a big way.  We watched her take this suggestion quickly, as in yeah okay, lets do that.  Later she did it again and in the turn of a spoon changed her final course to a little souffle (not in her original plan) which subsequently flopped and was unservable.

Now the clear Dharma message for me was: we come undone when we don't follow our heart, our intuition, our true self, our inner knowing; however you want to express that.   The judges commented on how "not her" the meat course was and that it was a flop.  And interestingly the souffle that met the bin rather than the judges table was also not her idea.  How often do we do that?  Not trust our instincts, not trust our inner menu plan?  Why did Karla do it?  Was she trying to be accommodating, trying to be liked (a big motivator for many of us), did she truly think Casey's ideas were better, or was she just a little frazzled under all the pressure?

I don't know the answer but I can use this information next time I want to second guess what feels right to d0.  Sometimes it's not easy to stick to your original plan.   It's about faith and trust in ourselves.  Sometimes we get a sense that, maybe I should call so and so, or I think I should pass on this seemingly wonderful job opportunity.  Logic can kick in and tell us that this seems goofy, but somewhere deep inside we have an inner knowing of what is the right thing to do.  It is a skill to simply be aware of those blood and bones feelings.  It can be tricky  to distinguish between those voices vying for attention in our head.  But as we practice we become more acquainted with the true authentic voice of the inner self, sometimes it is just a whisper and sometimes it's a ear splitting shout.  

The second part of the puzzle is to actually have faith and follow through with execution of the plans of the heart.   Karla started out with a plan that was a true expression of Karla but allowed it to be altered and that became her final undoing.   For her it  was a hard way to learn the lesson of  "listen to your deepest self"  but we don't forget those difficult lessons quickly.  Me, I was just an observer  in the 3 ring cooking circus of life but the message seemed clear and instructive.  No matter what's on the menu, make sure that you're reading from that  inner recipe sheet.  Second guessing leads to burnt offerings at best.  And hold the salt, it doesn't go well with wounds.

What Is Faith?

Over  at Peter's Monkey Mind a discussion started on "faith".  It is something that has been on my list of things to write about in my 100 days of Dharma and so it seems like a good time to pull out my list and put that satisfying stroke through"faith".

When I was at University back in the dark ages, no make that the ice age (it was Winnipeg after all) I took a religious studies course.  I remember being completely baffled by the concept of "faith".  It made no sense to me.  You believed in something that there was no logical proof for?  How did that work?  I scratched my head and forgot about it.

When I started studying with my Zen teacher, the idea of faith came up again.  Not faith in anything (as we talked about over at the Monkeymind Cafe) but faith as a general disposition toward life.  It can seem like an abstract concept but really it is as practical as any other Buddhist idea, meant to be lived.  My teacher talks about "looking up" which I take to mean trusting or having a positive orientation to whatever the situation, knowing that what is happening, even if it doesn't  seem that way at the time, is for our highest and best good.  It may not be what we'd choose from the smorgasboard of life, but it is perhaps what we need.  She would also say, when asked why some unpleasant thing happened, that "something is working itself out."  Who are we to know what is good or bad really, the why's and the where fors, with our incomplete picture of the universe?  There is so much more to life and situations than we can see from our subjective little gopher holes out here in the landscape.

Sharon Salzberg has written a whole book on faith from the Buddhist perspective. Several of her definitions seem helpful, "to have faith is to offer one's heart or give over ones' heart..... It  is the willingness to take the next step, to see the unknown as an adventure, to launch a journey."   Later she adds to this: "Though we may repeatedly stumble, afraid to move forward in the dark, we have the strength to take that magnitude of risk because of faith."   These ideas reinforce the thought that faith is a way of life, rather than a concept, that we are living it, not thinking about it.

The following words on faith attributed to the Buddha help us recognize what faith looks like: "When faith arises it arrests the Five Hindrances (doubt, sensual desire, anger, sloth, restlessness and worry) and the heart becomes free from them, clear, serene and undisturbed."    Sounds like pure freedom, that ultimate state of faith.  And like numerous other Buddhist practices, it seems clear that faith takes time to cultivate and develop.  Salzberg adds, "The offering of one's heart happens in stages, with shadings of hesitation and bursts of freedom."

I find that sometimes it is easy to have faith, sometimes I forget to have faith and sometimes when I am really afraid I work very hard to have faith.  In a strange way, at these times, it seems,  I am clinging to faith, looking for faith to save me. It seems to me that I remember faith when I am in the toughest of spots and while I recognize that I can do better than using faith as some sort of crutch or band-aid it also makes me see the value of those tough spots.... ah I am learning about faith.  And perhaps sometimes I have faith without even knowing or thinking about it.