One Thing Doesn't Stand Against Another

I have been painting, not on canvas, not on cradled panels, no paper involved. No Buddhas, no abstract marks, just swaths of green paint, the colour of Martha Stewart's fancy chicken eggs. Painting walls, struggling with the application of eco friendly paint that doesn't quite cover like that old toxic stuff. But it's done now, the zendo painted, from it's deep purply brown that stole light from the room, to a gentle green that calls the forest in at the windows.

I like the feeling of small accomplishments, a room painted, a meal prepared for visiting friends, a feeling somehow of making this place home, cleaning, tidying, bringing order, becoming the caretakers and grateful dwellers of this place.

We have been working to get the inside things done in the hope that the sun will soon shine and call us out to spend whole days in the great outdoors, the dream of pale sun deprived northerners before summer arrives. We burned that last of some old branches, paying attention to the burn ban that took effect today even though the ground still sucks at your boots at the far end of the pond. Other branches will get composted in piles in the woods. Always honest work to do in the country, work that employs muscles and organs and quiets the mind. An opportunity to hear the towhees screech, see an eagle fly overhead, watch a deer loaf in the meadow.

And while all the work and pretty making is fine, it is important to know, I remind myself, that I can never really control life, by creating a facade of order. I can never stop the movement of the shifting and changing nature of life by trying to arrange things in ways that please me. Trees fall, roofs leak, muscles get pulled. And yet this doesn't negate me working to create beauty or enjoying the pleasing look of a pile of brush removed from a grassy knoll. One thing does not stand against the other. In fact knowing that things will change, that things can turn in ways that may not please me, helps me when the inevitable happens. I am not so surprised. I may still be rattled, but I don't ask, why me, why now?

I am reading a wonderful little book on karma called "Kamma and the End of Kamma" (kamma is the Pali for the Sanskrit, karma) by Ajahn Sucitto. Here's a nice little quote from the book as I head off to read some more of it. I am filling it with underlines and undoubtedly I will share more wise bits as the days go on: "... Because I can't hold onto what I want and can't get away from what I don't want, the underlying mood of self is restless and unfulfilled. I keep trying to find the good state... but this one isn't quite it. Thus there is dis-ease. Liberation from this dis-ease and stress is thus synonymous with Awakening out of the dissatisfied self."

Reading The Self

I am having a lovely quiet morning and noticing the 2 stacks of books I have lying on the very deep window sill of my bedroom. I have often thought it would be fun to write a novel that consisted only of people's shopping lists, to do lists and the stacks of books left lying around the house. It would work in terms of characterization, but I'm not sure how action packed it would be. I suppose the "to do" list for each day could provide the action and movement, the climax, denouement and final resolution? Perhaps the difference between the "to do" list and what actually got stroked off at the end of the day would move it forward?

But I digress, as the mind so willingly loves to play and dart about. Here are my 2 stacks of books, piled near the bed, for reference, as books I hope to pick up again, as books partly read, none of these completely abandoned as yet

.

One stack contains: "No Time To Loose" by Pema Chodron on the bottom, meant for revisitng. On top of this sits David Sedaris', "Holiday On Ice" lent to me by a friend and partly read while I had the flu, hilarious is all I can say. On top of that is "Pipi Longstockings" by Astrid Lindgren, an old favourite of mine, Pipi is kind of my patron saint, in a strange way and I mean to do a post about the dharma of Pipi. Next up is Thich Nhat Hanh's "Peace Is Every Step", an early Dharma book of mine and well thumbed. I used to read the part about how to eat an orange to my daughter when she was young. I think this book is out because there's quite a buzz on the west coast about his August visit to Vancouver. And topping off the pile is "Light Comes Through" by Dzigar Kontrul Rinpoche, a delicious little book read a while back and there for leafing through when the urge strikes. You can never have too many books by your bed!

Pile number two has Jack Kornfield's "A Wise Heart" , revisited not too long ago as the meditation group I am now sitting with is associated with Spirit Rock, which Kornfield is part of. Next up is "True Perception" by Chogyam Trungpa. It's about art, but while there are some gems in it, I have always found him a hard read, so this one has been read in fits and starts, as my mother would have said. Next up is "All About Colour", by Janice Lindsay, a fascinating book about the history and psychology of colour. I read it at intervals. I love it but it is a bit of a dense read for me. Next up is a very old Dharma book of mine, set out because a friend recently mentioned it as the first Dharma book he read (on my recommendation). It's "Open Heart, Clear Mind by Thubten Chodron. And topping the stack is "Creative Authenticity" by Ian Roberts, read once quite greedily when first received and now waiting for a more contemplative pass through.

What's in your reading stack? On your "to do" list, either stroked off or still waiting? Can we know ourselves or others through these tidbits? Is there a self to know, that ever moving changing creature? Perhaps our lists can tell us about our longings, our aspirations, our inclinations or our state of mind at some point in time, like a little snap shot?

Dharma Artists & Your Creative Signal

If you hang out here a bit, you might think you've seen this image before and you'd be right. I am asking you to do a little practice based on the words on the canvas. Empty your mind of this form and then it will seem fresh and new, rather than my slightly lame attempt to post art when there is nothing new and fresh out of the easy bake studio. Perhaps a few old, burnt ones; nasty and chewy and bitter (to quote Rudyard Kipling).

It seems for me there are specific things that come up on my Dharma radar for me to chew on (how would an air traffic controller feel about that mixed metaphor??). And lately it's about paying attention to the "still, small voice", the inner knowing, whatever it is you like to call that.

I love the idea that your whole life can be lived from this place. There are a couple of Dharma painters that work in this way and it is something I am aiming that little arrow of self at. Tibetan teacher and artist, Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche is one of them. Here's an interesting comment he makes regarding the practice of art:

"I wish to urge students of the dharma who may have forsaken their creative impulse in favor of practice to realize there is no conflict between creativity and meditation. Creativity can be understood, in essence, to be the practice of our own nature and that nature's expression. You may find your way in to the nature through creativity; or you may come out from the nature to express creativity. Both have to be appreciated as the best of our mind's potential." - Kongtrul Rinpoche

His website found here, makes this comment about his chosen manner of painting: Out of all the Western traditions, abstract expressionism caught his attention due to its acceptance of formless technique, which closely mirrors the relaxation of strict discipline found in advanced meditation" There is a great little video of him at work that you can watch on his website.

Through him I discovered Yahne le Toumelin who he has studied with and who also works in abstraction, in this same intuitive way, listeniing to that inner knowing of where to go with a painting and when it feels complete. Turns out Yahne le Toumelin is Mathieu Ricard's mother, who now lives in a monastery in France. You can find her website here and in the description of her it states: " Andre Breton when writing about le Toumelin, as early as 1957 commented : "The success of a work depends on the interior 'state' (assuming the balance to be at the highest degree of tension towards wisdom) of its creator"."

Many artists work in this way, without any reference to Buddhism or spirituality, although it is my belief that all art is spiritual and that all of us have a creative impulse, whether we listen to it or not? If you tune in you will find a station that is uniquely yours with a broadcast signal only you can transmit, one that will energize and enliven you. So grab that headset, a paint brush, a needle and thread, a pen, or maybe a pastry brush and explore.

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.

The Dalai Lama In The Living Room

Recently I invited the Dalai Lama to come sit on the couch in my living room. He looks right at home there, don't you think? Blends right in and all, just what you'd think the Dalai Lama would do. Serene, at home, reflective.

You'd think I might have had a few intelligent questions for him. Maybe even a cup of tea. Well if you thought that you'd be wrong. But he's a patient guy and he just waited out my performance anxiety. OMG what will I ask him now that I have a chance?

When I finally settled I asked, "what is this anxiety all about? Why do I get anxious about the same old things over and over? Isn't that the definition of insanity, doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results? You'd think I'd learn? What can I do about this? He looked at me quietly and deeply. I felt a great sense of peace emanating from him. He was apparently okay with my anxiety.

And I wondered, "why is it so hard to just accept things as they are? How do we do that? How can I work on acceptance?" So many times a day I see myself wishing in small and large ways that things were different, silently (or not so silently) rejecting things as they are. I wish it were sunny today, I wish my health was better. Sadness and concern for natural disasters and seemingly dangerous political unrest in the world, and so on and so on. It was obvious from his stillness that acceptance filled his heart, concern was in his eyes, yet the corners of his mouth were swept upward.

I asked him, "why is it so hard to be present for long swaths of time?" He smiled that serene smile that steals your heart and empties your mind and simply modeled loving presence for me. Wise teacher. I realized he has been practicing since he was a young boy and many previous life times. I was encouraged by that.

"What is the best way to make a contribution to this world?" Might as well ask the big questions, and the personal now that I've got him here, I thought. He looked thoughtful and centred, with that deep sense of wisdom and gentle strength he exudes. This is what he brings to the world, I thought. This is why he is loved wherever he goes. He didn't answer because he has faith in me that I can answer this question for myself, I thought. Is that not the supreme vote of confidence. I sat a little taller in my chair.

And the questions went on like this for sometime. We spent a lovely, contemplative afternoon together. I was uplifted by his warm, easy presence, eased and calmed by his natural sense of equanimity and inspired by his wisdom. It's not everyday you get to have the Dalai Lama sit in your living room. What would you ask him, if you had the chance?

Of Spring & Sun & Skunk Cabbage

There is nothing that reminds me more of anicca (imperm anence) at this time of year than the weather. Lots of grey and wet on the west coast this winter, so when the sun shone Wednesday we knew just what we needed to do. We tied on our hiking boots and went in search of the waterfall that we've heard so much about. Just down the road, you'll hear it at this time of year, we'd been told.

There is nothing quite so restorative as a walk in nature, a place where it is easy to "just be", a place to slow down and experience a contemplative state of mind. Too often we forget these simple pleasures, the smell of outdoor air, the feel of our muscles as we walk, a little bird song, the sound of a woodpecker working away on a dead tree.

And when the sun has been MIA for some time, as it

seems to have been this winter, we really notice our

appreciation for the small pleasures of it's return(like a good friend who has been on a long holiday). So we savoured the warmth of it on our backs, silently admired the pleasing way it filtered through the trees, the way it lifted our spirits with it's simple presence. This week it was one of the things to mention when you chatted with people. Did you get to enjoy that sunshine on Wednesday? Someone did qi gong outside, someone else picked nettles for pesto with her kids. It was an occasion for varied and delicious celebration.

So here is a little taste of Spring emerging on the coast. In my mind there is no colour as divine as Spring green, the lusciousness of the deep moss that has thrived in the winter rains, that incredible pungent, startling green that is the calling card of Spring.

A little skunk cabbage for your olfactory delight. What, no smell on blogger? It's like a little forest glade of skunks, really. How could something so striking and beautiful smell, so, well, stinky? Nature offers us another koan.

And there it was finally after a few over anxious false leads, once along a stream that at first, seemed promising but held no waterfall. Another trail off the road led to a tiny snag in the creek but no waterfall. A little like spiritual practice, don't you think? Sometimes we start following a trail that just leads off into the woods. If we're persistent and go back to the road we might just find what we're looking for.

And how is Spring emerging in your part of the world? Spiritual thaw and blossoming or just the good old smell of the earth ready to welcome new life?

Self Confidence And No Self?

I am taking an energy healing course and there is a meditation on the heart centre which lists the attributes of the heart: compassion, harmony, healing presence and unconditional love. The meditation feels a lot like metta or loving kindness practice. It feels nourishing, like filling up a well. I feel a bit like a sponge soaking up the feelings of compassion, harmony, healing and love. It feels like when the sponge is full, I can squeeze it and a wonderful warm liquid will trickle out like golden drops of elixir into the world.

Over at Peter's monkey mind today, he asks the question, why do we continue to tell ourselves stories that are unhelpful and unkind, stories that perhaps have been told to us or we have come to believe on our own.

In the west it seems our habit is to find ourselves lacking; never quite measuring up. It is the rare bird that appreciates their strengths and exudes a healthy self confidence (as opposed to a puffed up ego based confidence). When the Dalai Lama was once asked about how to deal with feelings of self loathing, he required a lengthy explanation of what that was. When he finally understood what was meant, he emphatically said something like, "No, this is wrong," quite forcefully. Such feelings apparently don't exist in Tibetan culture.

There are many teachers that remind us of how important a healthy self confidence is (Tarthang Tulku, Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche). But I hear you wondering out loud about this, "so if there is no self, (which is one of the tenets of Buddhism) what's this about becoming self confident? So in my understanding of the examination of self, it is not that "self" doesn't exist at all, but that it is not fixed and is always moving and changing, and so doesn't exist in any inherent or fixed way. And on the way to our personal discovery of this ethereal, flimsy, hole filled self, we need to have confidence in the little self, the every day person. We need to nourish this being that navigates the world, to give our being the courage and enthusiasm for this life and our practice, so that we can wake up and contribute to this world in helpful and meaningful ways.

Our job is to wake up and use our gifts fully because no one has the gifts you have and can offer to the world in your unique and interesting way. This is self confidence, the ability to see clearly, to keep on keeping on, and to have faith in our lives and those around us. We are here to join hands in this human journey and pull each other up when we need pulling and offer a hand to dance sometimes.

So, it is Spring, a time of new beginnings, a good time to nourish the seeds of new habits. This unruly mind needs weeding and then the planting of wholesome crops. So why not look inside and discover the riches there. Begin each day by telling yourself about them. Encourage yourself, offer uplifting words to yourself and you may find the well filling up and spilling out in to the world in ways that cultivate growth and nourish in weird and wonderful manners. And please, don't forget to put me on your dance card.