The Sweet Heart of Winter

Winter Monks 20"x24" acrylic and collage

It could be the winter of our discontent -- or not.  Brutal temperatures and storms are blasting their way across the landscape. The weather has gone mad in many places. Here on the west coast of Canada, I am really ineligible to comment on the weather lest you bombard me with snow balls and sharp icicles.

But winter still exists here in lotus land, with it's grey, foggy days, shortened by how the sun brushes by our tilted, blue sphere. Winter has its effect on sentient beings, whether we care to admit it or not, whether we choose to live in a big city and carry on a pace that hardly nods in the direction of the short, cold days or whether we batten down the hatches for winter. And for some reason unknown to me, this year I am embracing the full heart of winter as it exists here. Sharon Zappha Barfoot wrote about her experience of winter in a much snowier place here.  And wherever you live the question seems to me, do we resist what is or do we somehow enter into it? Do we acknowledge our place in the natural world or do we live in separation from it? Do we try to make light out of dark, in either our inner or outer worlds? These are the bigger questions for me?  To what lengths will we go to sustain our delusion? Where do we shine the flashlight of our awareness?

Before winter's weathery course was set, something in me knew I was going to savour hibernation this year. Other years I have tried, but ended up doing a lot of grumbling about the darkness and feeling lonely and hurumphing that this year I might go away for a bit. But as I watched others plan their holidays and listened to stories of winter getaways to come nothing was tempted in me.  No beaches called to me, no warm breezes beckoned, no spots on the map flashed hotly, come here. Instead like a dozy black bear I slowed my pace and prepared for the delicious decent into hibernation. My cave is warmed by a fire, the lair offers all manner of comforts. And the internal world has many hillsides, rock walls to scale and tumultuous oceans to explore. I am never bored.

16"x20" Oil & Cold Wax  "Tracking"

It is interesting to watch the slowed call to activity.  I have become some lumbering creature of the earth. The slowness of the day sometimes feels shocking to me. How could I get so little done? And yet I seem powerless against this feet in molasses feeling, like I am some small creature ruled by a masterful force. There is a gentle joy to it. I am simply surprised how appropriate it feels, how it seems to be calling me to some deeper state.  There is a feeling that there is purpose and a reason for this, that there is some strange call to a landscape deep within.

There is lots of time for meditation and here's one of my favourite guided meditations. It's called Nourishing Your Inner Being and that feels like that's what this winter is about, offering internal nourishment that will support more active times.  This is my winter project if I need to give it a name.  And in nourishing this inner being there is a feeling that I am nourishing all parts of my life: the inner life, the spirit, my art and writing life, and my physical body; that when the winter earth thaws and the days lengthen there will be a natural movement into the next season.

I realize I am fortunate to have the time to live in harmony with this season, to sleep late, to be still, to do less. Even here where the animals of the woods don't hibernate, they slow. We see the deer and the squirrels less often, the birds are less busy. Only the tiny hummingbird keeps up its frantic pace. Living close to the natural world reminds me on a daily basis of how the planet sustains itself, cycling back and forth to create balance.

And so that is where you'll find me these days, meditating by the fire, contemplating and reading, sipping tea, painting a little and residing in the deep heart of winter.  No matter what your circumstances I invite you in ways large or small to join me in tasting the sweetness of winter. It's about creating a different story around the real or imagined winter life, or perhaps creating no story at all?

Muck Raking

Taken at the Japanese Garden in Seattle

I was muck raking yesterday.  No, really I was.  Not the gossipy, wrong speech kind of muck raking.  I had a big 3 pronged claw-like rake and I was pulling old snags (and young ones) from our pond.

The pond is ridiculously large and has been neglected for a long time.  One of our summer projects was to get out as much debris as we could while the water level of the pond was low.  But summer has morphed into fall and projects have stretched out like stale bubblegum and the rains have started.

This morning as I sat in meditation  thoughts bubbled up, some less pleasant than others .  This led the mind to snag onto thoughts about muck-raking.  As I dragged things out of the pond yesterday, the odour of all that rotting stuff was pretty pungent, (not unlike some of the thoughts that were bubbling up to the surface as I sat.)

I was reminded of a neighbour's comment when I suggested I might use some of the submerged leaves and muck on my garden beds.  As a master gardener with extensive gardening knowledge she said it might not be a good idea as the material was probably "anaerobic" (without oxygen).  I guess theory being, it might actually suffocate the soil.  Muck, lack of oxygen, I could feel my mind-pond gasping for air.  It reminded me that in this cerebral pond, instead of diving for cover and rejecting those thoughts I  categorize as unpleasant, I could simply provide some space and air, to simply let them bubble up and be.  I didn't need to do anything with them.  They could come to the surface of my mind-pond, let off their little stink and be gone (for now anyway).

After a number of days of muck-raking (down at the pond) yesterday I admired our work.  The shore, while still muddy was free from all the broken twigs and this year's fallen leaves.  Lots of the large, partially submerged branches had been pulled out so that the pond no longer looks like some crazy pot of dirty soup (at least at the south end).  The water suckers sprouting up from the alder trees were trimmed and some alders removed completely.  It was a pleasing, more orderly sight.

All this work reminded me of my own mind-pond.  It takes concerted effort to change the mental landscape.  It seems to me there are two kinds of mind-pond work.  We work with both inner and outer tributaries of the pond. We need to let those slightly stinky, submerged thoughts rise and pop like bubbles.   With this, we are injecting much needed oxygen, working with the outflow, cleaning the pond.  The there's the purification of the pond, the streaming in (or raining down) of clean mind-water, an important step that is often overlooked.  We can choose our thoughts.  We can choose to pour wholesome, helpful thoughts into our minds.  We can remind ourselves to be grateful for everything, to pour lovingkindess into ourselves to alkalize both our mind and bodies, instead of  continuing with our somewhat sour, acidic thoughts.

Both ponds, the one across the meadow and the one I carry with me are still in need of reparation.  There is still muck-raking to do, snags to snafoo, smelly stuff, prone to rot and suffocate the environment to be liberated.  So the process continues, the skillful, concerted effort of pond cleaning.

And like so many things in this life, (eating, washing the dishes) it's time to start all over again when we're done!  But we can do this muck-raking with joy and enthusiasm, knowing it is our work.  We are making this earthly environment better by our efforts.  And you will be glad that we are still at the point in our virtual life that there is no "sniff" function on blogger yet.  Now back to the muck raking

Working With Body Tension & Karmic Stuff

This is a close up shot of a piece I am slowly working on (perhaps I am inspired to slowness by the slugs that have all but decimated our garden).  It seems there are never enough hours in the day for both gardening and artwork, but I've said that before, haven't I?  I am not whining, really.  I promise.  Although occasionally I do have a little wine.

But I must confess I always turn a little green when I see the concerted efforts of those working away in their studios everyday.  Ah... (she gives a wistful sigh which goes well with her green complexion). An osteopath told me sighing is good for releasing tension.  Try it.

But I have made my choices about how to spend my time.  I was talking about "choices" in terms of money with a friend the other day, but it is the same for time.  If we attempt to live with awareness we choose where we spend our time and our $$.  There is only so much of both to go around.  I keep telling myself this is the year of the house and next year I will have more art time.  I may be deluded, time will confirm or make a fool of me.  How do you deal with this?

But there is always lots of Dharma up on the radar, no matter what I do, even if I'm not here writing about it.  I have been sitting twice a day in preparation for a week long retreat in August.  I'm in training, like a marathon runner (well maybe a slightly slacker marathon runner, the bald guy at the back of the pack).  My body needs this extra sitting, my mind needs this.

As I sit a little longer and more often I have been noticing all the subtle ways and places I hold tension and how good it feels to find those spots and let them go.  I am seeing strongly, how the mind doesn't settle with ease if there is no ease in the body, how the body tenses when the mind starts reciting the list of things to do.  I think this can't be repeated too often. The mind/ body, which practice shows us, are really a single unit, has somehow in our modern world been divided  into two separate things (did I miss a divorce in People magazine?). Where did this separation come from?  "I think therefore I am?"  Did this leave the body out of the equation of being?

This relaxing of the body has become a big part of my sitting.  I have been doing a form of qi gong meditation for part of the time when I sit, which is really just concentrating or focusing on the hara (the area just below the navel).  In doing this I am reminded so much of how we don't make anything happen.  We focus and then when the qi or energy becomes strong enough it moves.  WE are not doing.  We are simply being.

Another part of my practice, as always, involves chipping away at my "karmic" or habitual stuff, the stuff we come here with, the personal stuff that we each have.  This is such an important part of practice for me, to work with your personal stuff in a way that helps loosen it and if we're lucky release.  Sometimes we have to go about this in different ways.  And mostly it is hard even to see our own patterns and foibles; easy to see that of others. And the karmic stuff of others is their business, not ours.  But that's another topic entirely.

I have been chipping away at  my mountain of stuff (can I sell this stuff anywhere, maybe on ebay?)  I have got the loader and the backhoe out and I am surveying "my stuff" from a totally different angle, using some Shamanic journeying, (okay so no bulldozers were involved).  It's the same stuff (sigh), just seeing it from a different angle.  It lends new perspectives and new tools for the chipping away process.  It is this chipping away and releasing of our karmic patterns that will ultimately help us to see more clearly and release us from suffering.

Many monks when they have their "kenshos" or awakening experiences have past life rememberings.  Shamanic journeying can help us relate to some of what is unseen in a similar way.  Although again we must be careful not to "want" too much, or delude ourselves.  As always on the path, we must proceed with caution and attend to what niggles.

And so I have been working away at those inclinations to retreat, working with fear, approaching it in different ways (like training a wild animal?), by doing some body work, by being willing to see what catches me, in a non judgmental way.  I am learning to be comfortable in my own skin.  In my Shamanic work it has been expressed as "hiding" which is just another way to say we feel uncomfortable exposing and being who we are.  While some might see this as navel gazing, I believe it is an essential part of the inner journey.  I don't think we can blast through it all by our will and simply extended sitting.  What are your practices for working with your "personal" stuff?  And have you had any success selling it on ebay?

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?

Go Forth and be SLOW

I have just completed a teleconference class that centred on "Seeking Authentic Voice" with a group of artists, all with deep spiritual underpinnings and an interest in exploring what is "authentic voice" and how do I get in touch with it. How do I grow and nurture this way of seeing and expressing that can only be born into this world through the being that lives in this skin? It has been a wonderful rich and engaging 6 weeks that has opened my mind and heart in many ways. It has tied in very nicely with a new sitting practice I have recently undertaken. It is a sign of Spring and new beginnings for me.

Both the meditation and the authentic voice exploration reminded me of how important it is to have a wise guide, how important it is to have companions on the path. In the case of meditation, after sitting for several years on my own, I am reminded how inspiring it is to hear a Dharma talk each week, to hear the stories and commentary of someone who has been sitting for many years and whose natural inclination is one of joy and delight, how much this invigorates and brings new life to my whole practice. In the artist's group our coach was a gentle guide who helped identify the wisdom and richness of each participant. In both cases I am reminded of how humans flourish with gentle, warm direction, like any living things provided with a nourishing environment, light and sustenance.

In both cases I have learned how important and helpful it is to reframe things in a positive way. I think this aspect can easily overlooked in meditation circles. This is not to negate that sometimes we have difficult emotions or experience difficult circumstances and that difficulties can stimulate growth and discovery. We are not buying a caselot of rose coloured glasses. But I am learning how helpful it is for me to reframe things in a way that supports my energy. I have recognized how easy it is for me to slip into frustration and impatience when things don't go according to my wishes (in the studio and out). By building positive energy I have seen how I can become (as Joko Beck likes to call it) "a bigger container", one that can hold all experience, the positive and the inevitable difficulties. It is all part of the process.

But by taking time to observe this process and see how to work with frustration and impatience before they overwhelm me I find they are indeed workable. It is skillful means to stop and breathe, to take a break, to work on another piece. It is important to remind myself to have faith and confidence in my inner voice, to listen when it whispers to use a Motherwell splat of paint, here or a dark line there, to follow the inner voice, instead of logic which says no, you might ruin that, no that will look silly or out of place. I still find myself putting paint on and taking it off, but without the frustration, without the judgement that I have made a mistake. It is just part of the exploration, the seeking of the mark that resonates.

Our Dharma teacher uses the nemonic of SLOW for how we might incline ourselves in our meditation and I think it applies equally to our art making.

S reminds us of steadiness. We encourage our mind to stay. Just as we want to focus our attention and stay with our breath, with our body, in the present. This is also immensely helpful in an activity, learning to be present with whatever we are working on. Then we can truly hear the whispers of the work, of the materials of our authentic voice.

L for lovingkindness or unconditional friendliness. In any endeavor it is important to be kind to ourselves, to encourage ourselves rather than find fault with what we are doing. Fault finding (as in I'm never going to get this, or whatever negative self talk is our habit) is a discouraging energy sucker. Never underestimate the power of a kind word.

O- Openness to what we experience, just a general attitude and disposition toward life and our work, be it art or mindfulness or both. Being open leads us to discoveries, to find the unexpected, the surprising, the unusual. This is what makes life rich and exciting, this is where we will discover our uniqueness. When we're open we never know what we'll find. When we're closed we are confined by the limitations of what our mind can conceive. And every one of us has experienced the power of intuition at some time or other in our lives. This openness allows us to tap into something much greater than our little selves.

W for wonder or curiosity, what better attitude to have toward all aspects of our life, the sense of wonder that small children often bring to a situation, of sheer astonishment and delight (as in I'm the first person to have seen inside this peanut!)

So go forth and be SLOW! Listen for the quiet building of your authentic voice in all that you do. Have faith and confidence in what may start as a delicate whisper. Mine is often barely audible, and I am a bit like a deaf person, it sometimes needs to repeat itself over and over. But like any good gardener, I plan to nourish it and watch for new shoots. What better thing to do as we head into Spring and the season of cultivation?

Vipassana Adventures

Last night I decided it was time to meet some new Dharma friends so I headed off in the direction of the local Vipassana group. I have felt pulled in the direction of some of the Bon teachings and other Tibetan traditions since leaving the Zen Sangha I sat with but there are limited choices on this small island. Last night I put on my adventurer's hat and went to see what was up.

And what did I find? A lovely physical setting at the beautiful Stowel Lake Farm and a warm and welcoming Sangha and teacher. The Gatehouse was shrouded in fog. A small Thai looking Buddha statue sat beside the teaching chair in the large timber frame room.

I loved the Dharma talk that made all us humans sound just a little crazy in how we conduct our lives. It went like this: We don't like discomfort or pain or what we deem negative situations. We love things that are pleasant and make us happy. Even though we know everything is constantly moving and changing we spend a lot of our energy trying to make everything pleasant for ourselves. No bad stuff please, just straight up, heading for happy, bountiful, feel good, positive all the time.

This is not news to most practitioners but how hard do we really look at it when we're in the midst of it? Sometimes what we know and what we do are 2 different things. And she pointed out that we use a lot of energy doing this. We create a lot of internal stress running this little program of bring in the good, throw out the bad. Truly being with what is, even if it is not pleasant uses a lot less energy. This is not to say we never take action, but it's the constant vying for control of our world, trying to make everything comfortable and perfect that is the problem, the energy sink hole.

She read a few passages from Andrew Olendzki's new book, "Unlimiting Mind". I liked his description of equating grasping with the ego. When we are simply with what's happening, enjoying a sunset, being out in nature, there is no ego, just presence. The moment we want something to be a certain way, to have a certain thing, ego arises. It is the "I" that wants.

It was a lovely little 40 minute sit with a focus on attending to the sensations of the body and environment rounded out with an inspiring Dharma talk. With the limited sitting groups on the island, this might just be a good place to hang my hat for a while. Am I cheating on my true spiritual inclinations (grounds for divorce??) Am I going with the easy choice? Time will tell if I get tangled in my own spiritual web. But I have to say I love keeping company with Dharma friends and there is a great energy from sitting with a group. And in the grand scheme of things, it's all Dharma.

Intention, Meditation & Art

I have been thinking about art a lot lately (in a prelude to diving in). I am still in holiday/ visiting mode (my daughter is here until Tuesday) and boxes are finally unpacking themselves in a realization that this is home. I am still in the getting settled mode and the artists making up excuses mode. But there you have it. I have this terrible linear bend to me (can you be linear and bent at the same time? I smell a koan). I like to create order. Renos done, now boxes need unpacking and another layer of uncluttering is taking place. I find myself asking "I packed this because?" The heart breathes a little sigh at this sense of "doing the next thing that needs to be done."

But all the while I have been thinking about authentic voice and how to explore it in the studio. In my post of Dec 28th I talked about hearing the call to authentic voice and seeing this as the new year's most important work. My past methods of approaching authentic self in my art usually involved struggle and frustration and a lot of self judgement. It is my intention to try another tack (even though I am not a sailor) I will lean into the winds of more open exploration and play this year and see where that takes me. Intention, I hear tell is an important word.

A while back I picked up a second hand copy of "True perception, The Path of Dharma Art" by Chogyam Trungpa. I started wandering through its pages and wanted to share a quote that seemed helpful as I begin the new year and new mind habits of approaching my art. Here's what he has to say:

"When we talk about art, we are talking about a form of some kind that we could work on. So it is like the practice of meditation. But what is that form, and how does meditation go along with it?.... Absolutely nobody can become a good craftsman or a good artist without relating with the practice of meditation.... I'm talking about the sitting practice of meditation.... But what do we mean by the sitting practice of meditation? For instance, Beethoven, El Greco, or my most favorite person in music, Mozart -- I think they all sat. They actually sat in the sense that their minds became blank before they did what they were doing. Otherwise they couldn't possibly do it. Just coming out of the market and plopping down at the dining-room table and writing a play -- that's impossible. Some kind of mind-less-ness in the Buddhist sense has to take place. From that basic ground, the sense of being, openness, or isness begins to develop."

Chogyam Trungpa

So there it is kids, Beethoven didn't come running in from the market and plop himself down and write the moonlight sonata. So we won't be wandering in straight from Costco or Patterson's Grocery or the laundry room and expecting to make contact with that energy that taps into both our own deepest selves and the collective voice that's out there for us to draw on. It takes a sacred, contemplative, nurturing approach, an approach that listens to our own crazy stirrings. So I invite you to join me. Find your space, the ratty old sweater you love and just sink into that Mozart space.

Too busy To Sit?

A Bird In the Bush

Original Mixed Media collage on matte board

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

$25 including shipping in North America

I am feeling rather speedy tonight as the result of all the things I have done today and have to do for two upcoming art shows.  So many little things and then life always intervenes with its own little agendas that interrupt.  An early morning Etsy order, a call from a realtor checking back.  It's interesting how some days just have that kind of energy.  And for me it's always about keeping my eye on the proverbial ball.  It's so easy to create and go over lists in your mind.  But they just make me tired.  I love lists (in their place), but sometimes  they can take on a life of their own and chase you around the house and wear you out before you're even out of bed.  (Who let that list out of it's cage this morning??)

But if I just do the next thing that needs to be done, instead of going "Eeek I have so much to do,"  I am much better off.  For one, I have more energy and my head doesn't feel like it's about to spin off into orbit and become space trash.  All those tasks will all get done -- or not.   And it will all be okay.  No houses will burn down.  No lives will be lost.  In the grand scheme of things, what I have to do is like a speck of dust in the universe.  No big deal.  Now if I can just remember this....

I feel like I'd like to do another sit today and that had been my intention in the morning but here I am late at night.  I think a sit at this time of day could be a head bobbing event (you've seen those little bobble headed hockey players & such).  But the idea of being so busy that I feel the need to sit again reminds me of a Zen story.   A new student asks how long to sit.  The master says start with half an hour.  The student replies that he is far to busy for that and then Zen master tells him to sit for an hour then.  And that's it, isn't it, the busier we are, the more stressed we are, the more time we need to spend slowing down.  It's the antidote, it's the solution to the problem, not another aspect of the problem, it's not just one more thing to do.  It's a whole shift, an opportunity to see things differently.  And "the busies", they're  like a warning signal we can read, but mostly we think we are too busy to bother.

Zen Vacation

I am thinking about stress.  It is on my mind for a couple of reasons: one I am watching myself getting ready for two upcoming art shows.  On the good days I can say everything will get done and I can work away patiently doing what needs to be done.  On other days I notice the impatience and sense of hurry that I impose on myself.  It is definitely good training to watch me and adjust my course when I am blown against the rocks of fretting and rushing.  

The other thing that got me thinking about stress was a spot on the TV news the other night.  I'm not a big TV news watcher but happened to see a piece where a tour company declared bankruptcy, leaving travelers stranded.  The mother of a young woman commented that her daughter had taken a holiday to Mexico to get away from stress and now the holiday was causing stress.  

It got me thinking.  It's the old story of looking outside of ourselves for the solution to our problems.  And there in her statement of the problem was the answer.  Studying the Dharma we learn that the  solutions to any problems aren't out there.  Don't get me wrong I am not saying bah, humbug, holidays are bad, stay in your cave and eat rice.  Sometimes a change of scenery can offer us the space we need to see more clearly.  And doing something fun and spending time in beautiful places is good for the soul.  But where are we coming from when we do that?  What is our intention?  I love the title of Jon Kabat-Zin's book "Wherever you go, there you are" which kind of sums it up for me.  If I go on vacation to "escape" my problems, to "escape"myself or my "situation" the fix is either temporary or illusive. 

Dealing with stress is about changing the landscape allright.  It does require some travel but we're talking about the internal landscape now, the hills and valleys of habitual tendencies, the patterns of behaviour that have carved the mountains and gullys of our stress.  To really deal with our stress we need to look at what causes it and how we respond to our perceived stressors.  Is it the boss, is it my financial situation, my too busy schedule, the noisy neighbours?  Whatever it is I need to look at it and evaluate.  The old AA  serenity prayer, "God give me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the ones I can and the wisdom to know the difference."  That's a good starting place.  Is there action we need to take or reaction we need to desist from?  Are there things we just need to let go of?   I am reminded of the story of the man who is listing his troubles to the Zen master.  And the master just continues to say, "it isn't important," to each thing on the list.   How much of what stresses us is really important?  Now the tricky part here is to know that this doesn't stand against taking appropriate action when necessary.   We don't just say "it isn't important to everything as another form of escape.  Always after well considered contemplation and moving from that place in our heart, that says "this is good to do".  There are things in this world that are "good" to do.  They may be bringing up a difficult situation with a loved one, quitting a job, leaving a relationship.  You have all the answers somewhere inside you.

So by all means have a delightful vacation, now or in the summer or whenever, but don't mistake it as something that will alleviate "stress".   That work is best done from the inside out.  That will make your vacation even more joyful!    So take a vacation from stress by training in the Dharma, by reading some inspiring Dharma books, by sitting regularly in meditation, by contemplating the details of your life, by making changes in the small things you do that no longer work for you.  Start your holiday today.  Your life will thank you for it!    A bow and a bon voyage to you!

Just Sitting

It would be very Zen to carefully replace each tube of paint and return each scrap of paper to where it belongs, lovingly and carefully as I worked.  But as you can see from this studio shot, that isn't my method.  I cook like this too.  Before you know it things are everywhere in a creative flurry.  And then when they reach some tipping point of chaos and disorder and  I can't bear it any longer or think straight, I pause to tidy.  Then I feel like a spritely little breeze has blown new energy into the place and  the process starts all over again.  As you can see Bunny, the cat, is exercising her supervisory prowess and disapproves immensely.

You might think I was going to write about the process of art but really I'm just out of art photos so this studio shot is standing in for a painting.  On the art front I am posting some paintings to the Boundless Gallery site this weekend so they should be available for viewing by Monday or so.  It was very gratifying yesterday when a buyer received the 3 paintings she had purchased and expressed her sheer delight to me.  That is the fun of selling directly, getting the feed back that reminds you of your initial intention.

I have been thinking about meditation today.  The Zen meditation that I am familiar with and have practiced for the last 4 years consists of sitting facing the wall with eyes slightly downcast, but open.  You are not thinking and not trying not to think.  You are just sitting.  Your aim is to be open and present.  You hear sounds, you observe your thoughts.  This is sometimes referred to as Shikantaza.  

Lately, after taking a set of qi gong classes I have been trying the method of meditation suggested in that class.  It is one that applies a concentrative focus on the hara or lower dan tien on the out breath.  It is used to build concentration, focus and ultimately chi.  I have actually found it really helpful to work with building focus and concentration, something that didn't really happen for me in the Soto Zen form.  But I have also noticed how the mind gets in there when there is a task to do, as in focusing on something specific (like the hara and chi building).  The mind wants to make this it's little project and once you do this you are on a slippery slope of watching and measuring and wanting things to go a certain way.  And then suddenly it's all gone awry.

This morning after we'd finished sitting my partner read me a little excerpt that expressed this perfectly, from a book he's been reading called "Meditation week by week" by David Fontana.  The quote was, "Whenever you intend that meditation should do something or reveal something, the conscious mind assumes it can do the work for you.  Meditation works best, if as soon as you sit on your cushion, all thoughts of goals and attainments are relinquished.  You sit in meditation simply because that is what you are doing."  He reminds us that we need self discipline to help us remain focused.  He talks about the pitfall of  "feeling elated" about anything that happens and I can always remember when I first started meditating and at some point in the meditation I'd feel "ah, it's finally getting going here, or this is going well", and poof it would be gone.  There is definitely a "no peeking" rule in meditation.  Once your mind gets in and starts stirring, everything falls out the hole in the bottom of the pot.

So in sitting meditation it is just the same as our practice out in the world.  It doesn't serve us to get attached to results, to have expectations, to think there is something to gain from our meditation.  We are just sitting there like little Buddhas.  As my friend the monk would say, "Buddha bows to buddha".

The Energy of Community

Today was our last qi gong class until September.  I will miss this intensive 4 hours of practice each week.  It reminds me of how important community is.  It was listening to more advanced students talk about their experience of chi that encouraged me to sit longer and actually experience the difference, to see how much stronger the experience of chi is when you sit for an hour instead of 1/2 hour or 45 minutes.

But what I was really reminded of today was how strong the chi is when you sit with the group, how we all build and share and surf on each others presence and energy.  It is so beneficial and encouraging to feel this.  And if you've never sat with a group, you might feel surprised by this experience.  I don't think there is anyone who doesn't notice the power of group sittings.

I remember this too from when I sat with the Zen Sangha that I belonged to for 4 years, how there was an energy that deepened our meditation when we sat and walked together.  And the energy at the Buddhist temple where we would go on retreat was even stronger.

It seems in our everyday world, especially here in the west we don't think much about this  invisible energy, how it is part of our life, present in each person and available for cultivation of health, awareness and well being.  We can't see it or hear it, or taste it, or smell it in any usual way, and so it seems to the modern western mind that it doesn't exist.  It is kind of sad really, that the rational, scientific mind has pre-empted so much of our experience.  The invisible part of the universe is unavailable to most westerners.  We know that blood circulates in the body because when we cut ourselves we see it, but chi, where is that?  It's like we lost our way at some point in the evolutionary process.  We took the big super highway of the material world (headed over to Walmart)  and left the narrower roads  of the unseen spirit, chi or energy,  to grow weeds and become unused footpaths.

I guess I am unravelling two threads here, one that meanders down the path of what we have lost by neglecting the invisible world of spirit and energy, a whole topic of it's own really.  And the other thread is attached to community.  And yet when the community thread came up today it was attached to the thread of energy and spirit.  I have thought a lot about both these things over the years.  When I look at what's missing in a lot of people's lives I sense it is both of these things, a sense of belonging and sharing and a sense of the deeper meaning of life. 

 It is that sense of connection that human beings long for at some level, that collective embrace that makes us relax and feel at home here in the world.  And I think our restlessness and anxiety is somehow fueled by the lack of the spiritual, by  not approaching questions like what are we here for, what is our mission, how do we decide what is important to do and how to behave toward our fellow beings and the earth we live on.  If you combine a sense of community with spirit, or unseen energy, it seems to me you end up with something very powerful.  In Buddhism, the community of spiritual practitioners is considered one of the three treasures or jewels, Buddha, Dharma and Sangha.  And true Sangha provides this sense of community of those on the path.  

So that's what I'm thinking about today and since landing here  in the blogoshpere I have sensed I have joined another Sangha, one that stretches out toward you, in invisible space, boundless and without end.  Bows to you all, cyber sangha!

Learning To Be Here Now, Over and Over and Over

Today as I sat in meditation I watched my mind wander.  And I wondered to myself what keeps me from being present, right here, right now in this very moment?  And the answer I came up with is my desire, my clinging, my attachment.  What my mind is most often up to is planning, what needs to be done: a list of would do"s, could do"s, should do's.  And if I look a little deeper these things embody what I want to happen.  I want to paint this, I want to send that email, yada, yada, yada.  Each person's mind has it's own habitual pattern.  Your's might be drawn to the past rather than the future like mine.  Meditation and practice really are all about getting to know yourself.

So in the case of my "little miss busy mind" (at least I'm not a busy body), there's nothing wrong with having plans or making plans but we miss so much if our minds are constantly wandering off on little side trips of their own, instead of taking part in what is happening right now.  If I look a little deeper it's as if I don't trust myself.  My planning is like mom nagging the school kid just before he heads out the door, now don't forget your lunch and your homework and remember not to loose your gym shoes and button your coat at recess, (and 3 more yada's).

And of course there's the deeply ingrained habit of not being present, the neural pathways that  cause me to drive down the same old rutted road of inattention.  It takes effort and awareness and diligence to focus on the present moment and sometimes I am just too lazy.  I love the Buddhist choice of words for this laziness, sloth and torpor, one of the 5 hindrances.  Seems so accurate.  There I am hanging in a tree, just slothing about in an old sweater, with my hair darting off in every direction, kind of half awake.

The other reason we tend to go off in our minds, Buddhism points out, is that we sometimes find the present moment boring.  There is so much more drama in the "he said, she said" of our lives than say, just paying attention to a plate while we wash it, seeing every contour and chip of it's lovely plateness.  But because we never look very deeply we dismiss many things as uninteresting.  This is I think related to the piece I wrote yesterday on knowing too much, too soon.  If you think about the poor little plate, we are not familiar with it because we never pay enough attention to it find it interesting.  Mostly we skim the surface of life,  like dragon flies passing over the pond  looking for mosquitoes. 

So what can I do?  Well here I am aware of the issue.  So step number one taken care of, because if I don't even notice that I'm not here now, I couldn't possibly do anything about it.  There are stories of people who meditate for years and seem not to reap the benefits.  The classic story is one of a monk who spends 25 years in a cave and comes out to be jostled by someone in a line up and push back.  

Once I am aware I need to be willing to do something about it, really willing, at a deep level.  And then I need to set my intention to change my behaviour, whatever that is; in this case be more present when I sit and throughout the day, to not be okay and lazy about wandering mind, to not be okay with sitting on the cushion while my mind goes out for a beer and pizza.  And I need to be patient and kind as I would with a small child, to continually redirecting and persevering. 

Are You Empty?

Today I visited my friend the Buddhist monk.  It is always a wonderful opportunity to talk Dharma and ask questions.  I asked about something that came up for me as I wrote yesterday 's blog ....  the fact that when I noticed a former pleasure (shopping) no longer held any interest for me  there was a sense of loss, a sense of discomfort in this recognition .... a small sense of not knowing who I was anymore.  I have noticed this in other situations as I've gone on with training, that all of a sudden I will recognize that things that formerly brought me pleasure no longer do and there is some disappointment associated with this at first.

"That is emptiness," was her comment "and we're often uncomfortable with emptiness.  We try to fill up the emptiness with activity, with busyness."  It was interesting to me too that she called this emptiness, this uncomfortable feeling of not knowing... When I think about the Buddhist term "emptiness" it seems deep and mysterious and hard to comprehend but there it was explained as a simple phenomena of daily life.  When you don't know what to do, who you are, what to be .... you are experiencing emptiness.

That conversation led me to think about busyness.  It seemed to start in the 90's, everyone running around saying "I'm so busy".  I thought it was code for "I'm so important", but really it turns out it's just us expressing our discomfort with just being .... being by ourselves, with ourselves, as if we don't know how to do this or maybe we're afraid of what we might find, that we'll see our own human frailties, vulnerability and imperfections.  I read in a Buddhist book somewhere that busyness is actually a form of laziness which was kind a strange concept at first.  ...Took a bit of wrapping to get my head around that one, and then I could see the point, that being busy relieves us from doing that deep, difficult spiritual work.  We don't have time for meditation, we're too busy.  We  don't have time to study the Dharma we're too busy.  And so to amuse myself sometimes when someone says to me "I'm too busy" in my mind I substitute "lazy" and this entertains me because it is so opposite of what they seem to be saying to me.  (Man, I have a twisted little mind sometimes)

So in this modern world, the difficult, radical thing to do, is to just be, to unplug the pod, the computer, put down the magazine, turn off the phone and just sit.  Spend some quality time with ourselves, get to know ourselves the way we would a friend or a lover, learn the lay of the land.  What do we do when we're uncomfortable and what is that thought that continually pops into our head over and over?  Maybe it needs some attention.  And maybe we can just relax and hear the birds or the delivery truck or the kids playing outside or the sound of our own heart beating.  And maybe we will find this deeply satisfying or maybe it will scare the pants off us.  We won't know unless we try.

The abstract painting above bears the words "Form is" "Emptiness Is" "Form", which is from the Heart Sutra (the heart of the matter) and can be read altogether or as separate little phrases.  And what better to go with this than an abstract painting?  Where is the form in it?