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Falling Toward Home

This month I share with you a piece that has inspired me by writer Eric Alan. The need for renewal is present and like this author, I continue to find solace in nature. I hope you too have beautiful places to renew yourself whether that be a city party, waterfalls, or wide open meadows.

“In times as tumultuous as these, it’s easy to feel like water over rocks: tumbling, crashing, cascading without control onto whatever hard landing waits below. Most people I know have had moments of that feeling, this year. Perspective is elusive. Plans are always made with a caveat; an overriding “if” that reflects uncertainty about what even the next hours will bring.

That’s a hard way to live, even if it’s a clarification of life’s constant uncertainty, rather than a fundamental shift. Uncertainty’s sharp edge can cut us inside, after awhile. Restoration of perspective then becomes more important than any practical task on our “to do” lists.

When uncertainty opens a wound in me, I head east to the waterfalls that grace our mountains…

Beside me, so are you, and you and you and you: all of us tumbling, falling, merging, jostling against each other as gravity makes its incessant demands. No droplet, no human, can see where our fall will lead us. It’s easy to fear the rocks, the uncertainty…

The spirit sea will cradle us and allow us rest, in time. There is no uncertainty about that. Every life stream’s course always reaches its destination, however tumultuous its path along the way.

The waterfalls sing to me of this, every time I need their reminder. Far away downstream, the ocean sings of this too. Water sings the ageless song of how all of us are always falling towards home.”

Simplify

When are we satisfied? How do we know? How do we gently yet clearly winnow our lives down to what is essential? Not only what is essential in a material way but also, how do we traverse our difficult relationships with greater simplicity?

We humans are the only animals that can override our body signals & sensibilities. We are easily seduced when discerning what is enough because we often confuse a “want” for a “need”. Couple that with missed experiences of being heard, seen, supported, etc and it becomes even more complicated.

“Hungry ghost” is an image used in Buddhist psychology to represent our habits of devouring without ever being satisfied: the image is that of beings with tiny pins for mouths and huge bellies. It’s constant craving, but at some point we don’t even know for what. We lose track of ourselves.

Our world can no longer sustain hungry ghosts

When we turn within, we find clues that lead to greater self compassion toward our endless hungers.

What are the body sensations that inform our intention to act and how do we know when they have resulted in satisfaction? How do we recognize the signs of being sated, content, nourished?

“When we give a subtle and careful attention to our bodies, we are able to stay in touch with the experience of our deeper selves.” ~Sensei Peter Levitt

That contact with our deeper selves allows us, with time, to discern between “want” and “need”. Often what we want from others or the world around us, is something we do not know how to offer or receive from ourselves. ~MR

What Color Is Your Heart?

If I invite a person of color to bring their gentle listening hand to my white person heart, what would they hear, sense, or discover?

If I as a white person, am invited to bring a gentle, listening hand to the heart of a person of color, what will I hear, sense, discover, about them? What’s available in this wordless, kind touch?

Try this in your imagination. Just start there.

Listen within for when to lean into this experiment and when to draw back. This is the art of building emotional resilience. We listen within ourselves paying attention to body sensation: it will tell us the truth of our experience in any given moment. It’s not a special gift of the chosen few. That deep river of listening is always there, awaiting our return, available to anyone.

This experiment arose quietly for me. I grappled with what to say in this blog post: what can I say that hasn’t been said about racism, classism and the need to reclaim a part of our collective soul? Maybe I don’t need to say anything at all. Maybe all I need to do is listen, listen with my full bodied humanity.

What might the next phases of our collective work be like if they are shaped by the memories of a heart met by an open listening hand?

Gifts of Uncertainty – Part 3

This series ends but uncertainty continues! So here we are, many of us in some form of limited contact. There are times when I don’t know what day it is and I’m not alone in that. I trust this humble blog post finds each of you well, safe, and with what you need to continue on with this journey: that you are able to ask for what you need and offer what you can.

What are more gifts of uncertainty?

I’ll start by acknowledging the immense amount of suffering in our world right now. Unearthing gifts in times of trouble is meant to take us deeper into our interconnectedness with all life, our vulnerability, and courage. It is not meant as a jolly way of avoiding anything. Quite the opposite.

Recognizing the Immensity of Time

This is an important gift Joanna Macy names: We are a vital part of an older earth system. We go way back. Life on earth has waxed and waned over millions of years. Which points to the fact that we don’t really know whether we are in a conversation with our next disappearance or on the verge of a whole new way of being.

We. Don’t. Know. And we are creatures that want to know.

What we do know is our ancestors made it. Yours and mine. If they hadn’t I’d not be here writing this nor would you be there reading. At least a few “someones” survived. Time is immense. It stretches further forward and back than our soundbite driven world of instant gratification.

A Need For Simplicity & Discernment

This gift of uncertainty helps us sort out what is ours to do? Again, here Joanna Macy’s wisdom shines through: She names three general areas where we can each find a role:

On the frontlines: This includes the doctors, nurses, health care workers of all stripes, and those who are actively engaged in changes to our educational, health care, and financial systems. (especially here in the USA)

Those who support the people on the frontlines: therapists, healers, educators, the non profits, the volunteers, etc.

Those who attend to the systems necessary for holding the transitions: people engaged in creating barter systems, transitional local economies, sharing food or other resources, etc.

There is no role that is too small. There’s a place for anyone who wants to help. I will add here my own perspective that we are in a much larger transition than most of us can imagine. Pacing ourselves is important. Self compassion is key to developing wisdom.

And in closing…

At the root of our angst is the fear of our own demise and those around us. I’ve been having “death dialogues” in my journal. These dialogues bring me clarity. I give death a voice and let it write through me, then I respond, and then death responds:back and forth I go.

It is a somatic practice in that I listen with my whole being. I track my body’s sensations, whisperings, concerns, and joys—those things that live within the heart and soul of each of us. I recommend you give it a try. Go gently. _Allow for what wants to happen, knowing you get to decide your levels of tolerance for this kind of practice.

I express my work in the world in a way that is congruent with how I live: moving at the pace of guidance. I have some offers for you that are percolating and inner wisdom suggests later this year is a better time. And that’s to say again, we may navigating these transitions for quite a while. Reach out if you need support or if you have suggestions for what you’d like to read or hear from me. I am here to be of service to you.

The single greatest gift of uncertainty is how it brings us into the present moment. It reminds us of how both fleeting and beautiful this life is.

Gifts of Uncertainty – Part 2

Just one month ago, I began to share the gifts of uncertainty as presented by Joanna Macy: whole systems thinker, eco philosopher, spiritual teacher. You can read Part 1, here.

I cannot think of anything more relevant right now than naming the gifts of uncertainty. This perspective is not offered to gloss over challenging times but to recognize what we can learn. Resilience is the potential that uncertainty offers. Resilience is learned. Uncertainty is the sand in the oyster of our wish for things to remain the same and can awaken us to the need for resilience.

Here are two more gifts:

Recognize our solidarity and interdependence with all life

We are not alone. We are a part of one whole living system.

As emotionally mature people we recognize our interdependence, with other humans and all beings with whom we share this earth. We are part of one system. A pandemic reveals our interconnectedness and our mutual need for belonging, safety, and protection. We are knit together in a living system joined by vulnerability and courage. Our lives are intimately entwined.

Befriend our pain physical or psychic & the mystery that it holds

One of my first spiritual teachers, Stephen Levine, made a clear distinction between healing and curing: we can be cured of a disease and not be healed of our pain. And we can come to the end of our lives, healed.

We could find a cure for COVID-19 and not glean the teachings of these times. We could cure the disease but miss the metamorphosis that it offers. To befriend pain and confusion is the work of “the healing we took birth for” as he phrased it. That is what is being asked of us. Now.

Our collective resilience depends upon our personal resilience; our personal capacity to withstand higher levels of uncertainty. This requires befriending ourselves and our circumstances, on behalf of the well being of all.

Building Resilience

Resilience grows when we gently increase our capacity for uncertainty. We grow our resilience incrementally. This gradual process itself is an antidote to panic. When we attend to how we do what we do, we nourish the parasympathetic nervous system.

The parasympathetic nervous system returns us to calm.

Calm is important right now: not passivity, but calm.

One of the easiest ways to engage in nourishing ourselves is to attend to body sensation. Fear is a body based experience. When we turn toward those sensations of fear with curiosity, openness, even kindness, there’s a neurological re-set that happens. We begin to include all of our experience. This is the heart of somatic education: trusting body sensation as a resource. Emotional resilience is the result of learning to befriend body sensation. It is a trustworthy practice for many of us.

Gifts of Uncertainty – Part 1

This New Moon, I draw upon teachings of a beloved mentor, Joanna Macy. She is a scholar, eco-philosopher, and whole systems thinker who brings a breadth and depth of perspective needed now. She nourishes me and my intent is to share the nourishment!

In my work I support people in waking up to what has been silenced, anesthetized, or sanitized in their lived experience. And I support people in awakening to the wisdom that is ever present to guide, repair, and illuminate a path forward.

Our singular and collective body is being savaged. The pain of that insight can be a gateway of fearless communion with the living world. Our pain and our love for this world is the same. As Joanna suggests, we do not need to pathologize our pain, rather it is a measure of our humanity and nobility.

It means we give a damn.

What are some of the gifts of uncertainty?

  1. The present moment is a gift of uncertainty: only in this moment can you feel what you feel and respond accordingly.

  2. A fresh recognition of the power of intention is another gift of uncertainty. In other words we don’t wait until we are “in the mood” to do something. It keeps us on track.

  3. Befriending our pain whether it’s physical or psychic and the mystery that it holds, is another gift of uncertainty.

  4. Recognizing our solidarity and interdependence with all life. We are not alone. This is a gift.

  5. Appreciation for the immensity of time.

  6. A need for simplicity: discernment. What is mine to do?

In this blog post, I’ll take on two of these gifts and leave others to future posts. I am right there in this contemplation along with you and welcome the time it takes to consider the nuance of each gift.

The Gift of the Present Moment

This is self explanatory: only now can we feel what needs to be felt and only in the present moment can we respond. Longing for “the good old days” (which actually never were) or projecting our fears into the future leads to inertia.

A Fresh Recognition of the Power of Intent

What is our motivation for acting or not acting? This is another gift. Too often the power of intent gets tangled up with controlling outcomes. We have no control over outcomes. The complexity of life doesn’t guarantee an outcome. Intention helps us to remain patient. We have no idea how or when our seeds of intention will push their way into the light. We can trust our intention.

In this era of instant communication, it is easy to lose track of the fact that no matter how rapid our technology, life on earth continues to move at the speed of an epoch, not a sound bite. Slowing down, being present, knowing that what we need to know waits to reveal itself in our life, that’s good medicine.

What other gifts of uncertainty come to mind for you? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Seeing in the Dark

At the end of a long year, I take solace in and share with you these words from Bill Plotkin:

“In the long winter darkness of the Northern hemisphere, we gather around hearth-fires to share stories of a tumultuous year. The news regarding Earth’s climate and cultural systems is bleak, yet there are also many remarkable and little-known stories of people coming together to tend our precious and heartbroken world.

As mystics, poets, and lovers of the dark know, it is in the dark times that “the eye begins to see.” It is when systems collapse into disequilibrium that new possibilities emerge. For us human creatures, when our certainties are no longer certain, when our egoic identities grow threadbare, we are likely more receptive to the wild gods or strange angels who knock at our doors, bearing summons from the mystery.”

May you find ways to remain open to the mystery & your deepest healing.

The Narrow Place

We live in a time of “the narrow place”.

Transitions are difficult and exhausting. The actual “transition phase” in childbirth is the most challenging and occurs just before the baby emerges from the most narrow of places, the birth canal.

Where do we look when the usual landmarks for ethical behavior have eroded, moral outrage seems endless, and we have the sensation of the walls closing in on us?

We look to our own intelligent hearts.

On our hearts are written the guidelines for ethical and moral behavior. When we cannot find such guidelines outside of ourselves we have to source them from within. Throughout history there have been times of moral decay. This is nothing new. And there are those who thrive and shine in such darkness.

Here is a quote I have highlighted, bookmarked, and read daily from Tibetan teacher Dzigar Kongtrul in his book “Training in Tenderness”:

“Tsewa (tenderness of heart) is the only thing that can give us strength and resilience to overcome the challenges that the world presents. Even though we all have this tender heart, there are always certain individuals, who because of their intense confusion and their ability to influence people, spread pain and chaos to many others. But when people develop the strength of tsewa, they act as buffers to protect others from such harm and influence. When many people put their trust in the good heart, it is like erecting a wall that prevents the fire of confusion from spreading.”

If we recognize our interconnectedness then everything we do, matters.

We are not laboring alone nor do we need to be heroic. There are times when our capacity to make great impact, is limited. What’s needed now is a subtle intelligence and an appreciation for the complexity of these times so that we know our part in them. When we are self aware we can wisely consider how we engage in this “narrow place”.

Photo Credit: Zoltan Tasi/Unsplash

Preferences & Certainty

“You do not need to know what is happening or where it is all going. What you need to recognize are the possibilities and challenges offered by the present moment, and to embrace them with courage, faith, and hope. The world is transparent and the divine is shining through all the time.” ~Thomas Merton

Recently my partner and I got our wills in order. It seems timely: we are no longer spring chickens. I affectionately refer to us as “autumn chickens”. We share a daughter and four grandchildren. A future without us meets our gaze through their young, bright eyes.

We did the “needful” as an Indian friend says. We barely knew the attorney; she was hired only for creating our wills. Another woman came in the room briefly to witness and notarize our signatures and in less than an hour everything was done. Our documents were slipped into a large plain white envelope and away we went. I was grateful for their competency.

What struck me was how our preferences create an illusion of certainty. I am fussy about my chai latte. I care a great deal if my veggies are steamed just right. I prefer salted butter over plain. Yet at some of the most significant junctures of our lives we are assisted by strangers. We don’t get to choose.

We live much of our lives insisting that our preferences be met and those preferences are driven by a need for certainty. How well can we do without our preferences being met? Can we discern between a preference and a necessity? Are preferences wrong? Of course not. The lesson it seems these days is to hold them lightly and open to the possibility that there is grace in limitations. It’s good to remember too, that such a life of “preference” comes with privilege. Choices are not an equal opportunity event.

There’s a story about places of worship that had been bombed in Europe after World War II. In some communities shards of stained glass were reassembled in a kind of crooked, scarred beauty; but the light shone through. It’s like that. To paraphrase Leonard Cohen, the crack is where the light enters. There are many cracks these days and no guarantee of what’s to come. What would it be like if we discovered enough space between our preferences that the ever present light could shine through?