Category: The Spirit

Categories
Mindfulness Self-care The Spirit

Weathering the Storm

“Wow. It seems like every time I start a blog post, something big and new happens and what I have to say sounds antiquated.”  

I’ve written this introduction about five times in the last month and can’t seem to get past it. Working backwards, I see I’ve spent the last four days in a barely-there fog, Prior to that, I spent a fair amount of time in an agitated haze. Neither of these states has felt particularly helpful to my well-being. It seems like I’ve bounced between agitated distraction and lethargic distraction for awhile now. I haven’t enjoyed it, but I found “escape’ to be difficult. No matter how you cut it, there is a lot happening in the world right now that can distract from my self.

This morning I awoke for the first time in several weeks feeling like I might have some semblance of a groove back. I felt like the fog was lifting and I could more fully engage with the world. I could think, feel, and “be” again.

I’ve written before about being in a funk and some of that applies here. Looking back I see I wasn’t totally unproductive and that I did the best I could do at the time. But when I look more carefully at what helped me re-gain my self, three significant things jump out at me. I imagine they may be helpful for you as you navigate life during these stormy times so here you are:

I maintained my daily meditation practice but was flexible

Maintaining my daily practice was challenging at times. With so much going on around me I had many excuses for skipping it and occasionally did skip my morning practice. However, I discovered that even if I skipped my morning practice there was nothing preventing me from doing an afternoon practice. What mattered was that I intentionally made the time and space to slow down and look inward.

Minnesota Lotus flower
Meditation allows us develop clarity despite the muck in which we reside.

How this played out for me

My daily meditation practice is the single most significant factor in keeping me grounded during high-stress times. Because my sleep was a bit scrambled, the timing of my practice shifted occasionally but once I made the time to sit, I could experience at least a few moments of clarity. It was those brief moments that provided the motivation to continue on and do my best.

My suggestion

If you are new to or are intimidated by the idea of meditation I suggest you try setting aside just six minutes a day for meditative time. You don’t need to sit on the floor for this. You can sit in a chair, stand, or even lie down for the experience. A terrific way to get started is by using a good, free, guided meditation app. I recommend using Insight Timer. Try a short meditation and go with the flow. Try out different styles of meditation and figure out what works for you. Try to do this at least five days a week, but if you miss a day, don’t worry about it. Just continue on the next day. Pay attention to how your feel before you meditate and after you meditate. You may be surprised.

I followed daily routines as best as I could but I also gave myself space to adjust

As the world shifted and pulled beneath my feet, a simple daily routine helped me maintain my stability.

How this played out for me

 I did my best to maintain a consistent bedtime but if I had difficulty sleeping or went to bed a little late I just let it be. I tried to maintain an early awake time but when necessary,  I allowed myself a little extra morning sleep time  But I still aimed for my early awake time.

Because of pain issues from a minor injury, my inability to engage in my usual physical activity added to my difficult state. However, I didn’t beat myself up for this. I just did what I was able to do and paid attention to my pain levels. I tracked (on paper) every NSAID I swallowed and recorded my pain levels regularly. This monitoring routine increased my sense of control and kept me out of the spiral of self-recrimination. It also provided me with helpful information for myself and my practitioners moving forward.

I also have the interesting daily routine of checking my rain (and snowmelt) gauge and reporting the results daily to a national rain, hail and snow network. This kept me anchored in an activity that connected with my values and which grounded me in the natural world. There were days when knowing I needed to report the snow melt was what motivated me to get out of bed.

My suggestion

At minimum, pick something manageable to do at the same time every day. But be flexible.

Do your best to maintain regular sleep times, mealtimes, and simple routines. Meditation can be a part of that routine. Find a simple daily activity that reflects your values and commit to that activity. There are tons of citizen scientist and creative daily activities out there on the web. Give one a try.  But don’t punish yourself if you are unable to strictly adhere to a given routine. Just continue on.

I attempted to limit my exposure to social media, electronics, and television but was flexible

Social media, electronics, and television can send me down the rabbit hole of lethargy like nothing else—especially during these times of physical distancing combined with a very grey winter. I found, during the last few weeks, that I was watching more TV than I knew was good for me and had difficulty staying off of my phone to check social media. This wreaked havoc on my sleep and simply added to my haze. Truth be told, it seems I have to re-engage in electronics management several times over the course of a year to keep my use in the healthy range.

What helped

There are a few things that help me wean off of the constant electronic stimulation. I set a time past which I turn off the television. When I found myself glued to the tv during the day (several days last week), I gave myself permission to do this, knowing this was an exceptional situation.

Then, there were the times when I found myself watching TV and checking social media at the same time! (Brave of me to admit this, don’t you think?) I became alarmed. To counter this, I started watching a Danish television series with English subtitles. If I was to follow the show, I needed to actually pay attention. There was no way I could follow the story AND read my social media feeds. The show won out. Finally, I started keeping my phone in a separate room from the television. I am now committing to checking my phone only at set times every day. This is an ongoing project. I’m trying to be flexible and compassionate with myself on this.

My suggestion

Pay attention to how much time you spend with electronics and interacting with social media and devise steps to monitor and limit your use. Be creative with your ideas but be persistent. All this stimulation is insidious and can get the upper hand pretty quickly. At the very least remove all electronics from your sleeping area. If you do go overboard, recognize this and go back to your plan. This is not the time for self-flagellation and rigidity.

The storm is not subsiding anytime soon

A few weeks ago, we had an intense blizzard in Minneapolis. The snow was blowing sideways, pushed by a fierce howling wind. We couldn’t tell the ground from the sky. The treetops were nearly horizontal.

The rigid vehicles didn’t fare too well in the storm

After it was all over, the trees were back to their normal majestic positions, the snow was on the ground, the sky was blue, and the ground was white. A few branches (and lots of leaves) lay scattered in the snow but, by and large, the vegetation was intact and I heard no trees berating themselves for losing a few leaves and branches.

But the trees did just fine.

Life is going to continue to swirl around us all for a while and the energy storms are just beginning. I’m modeling myself after the trees.

A little something to carry you through

Ethel Waters knows a little bit about storms. Hopefully she had a few routines to get her through tough times.
Categories
Mindfulness Politics of Well-Being Social Connection The Spirit

It’s all connected

It’s been a while since I’ve written. The pandemic was in its infancy the last time I posted. Since then the universal energy has been moving fast. It can be difficult to keep up with the natural forces sometimes.

You don’t need me to lecture about the events of the last few weeks. What I will tell you is that the city in which I live was at the epicenter of a police killing of yet another black man. This happened several miles from my home. Then, as grieving people protested, a reactionary arson and rioting spree commenced in the business corridor less than a mile from my home. And to add to the story, we were all living amidst an historic pandemic with many of us living in a leader-less country. Throughout the activity, the air became hotter and we were living with a level of stifling heat and humidity that was matched only by the permeating sadness. It felt hopeless.

What was once one of my favorite movies was becoming my reality—again.

About a week ago I awoke for the first time since in several weeks, feeling rested. I had a real night’s sleep. Outside the air was wet, the helicopters were gone, the prairie was in bloom, the birds were singing like crazy. The bike was calling me. What a privilege—to be able to escape the mayhem!

Back to the source

Because of the pandemic and my age, I opted to stay away from the centers of activity. I felt that I’d be serving the greatest public good by staying home. To stay grounded and to maintain perspective, I spent a lot of time digging in the soil and watching the prairie, perennial, vegetable, flower, and garlic gardens evolving (another privilege these days, I might add). If there was ever a time and place in my life to see how everything is connected, this was it.

This video from the California Native Plant society is the best presentation I’ve found of how it’s all connected. Unfortunately, the only link I could locate is via Facebook, I couldn’t find this in YouTube. But clicking on the image will take you to the video in Facebook.

I planted my garlic last fall and topped it with lots and lots of straw and dried leaves (mulch) to help it survive the fierce Minnesota winter. This year the extra mulch I provided made a world of difference in the crop. The garlic looks healthier and happier than I’ve ever seen it at this time of year. With proper care, I expect the garlic harvest to be my best ever.

Mindful mulching allowed the garlic to thrive.

The potatoes at the community garden showed signs of potato bugs so we sprayed them with soap and water and it looks like we’ll have a good harvest. I planted seeds for a variety of greens but only the dino-kale germinated properly. I separated the kale and replanted the plugs, dug up that area of the garden, and planted summer squash starter plants given to me by a friend.

We’re even connected to the humble potato!

The beloved prairie has been in bloom, and is generally self-sustaining, as is the way with prairies. Each plant gives way to another. Getting this bed to this point about six years ago required completely re-configuring the strip along the garage. What was existing there, invasive weeds, had to go. I puzzled over organic and sustainable ways to start from scratch. It was difficult, but in the end it worked and self-sustaining beauty evolved.

Thanks to my great neighbors I have a new boulder. I’ve considered moving it to the other alley garden (below) for visual appeal but now I’m sort of liking it in the prairie. Any opinions?

My newest bed, back in the shade off of the alley, is finally beginning to thrive. I weed some, putter around a lot, investigate, and wonder. So far the hosta, coreopsis, irises, and sedum seem happy. It was a lot of work getting that garden started: scoping out the patch of earth and its relationship to the sun, pruning the adjacent shrubs, laying cardboard and newspapers (compliments of many friends) and topping them with rocks to kill the weeds, locating plants (again compliments of many friends), planting, hauling, and laying mulch (again, compliments of friends). And then, agonizing over whether the garden would “take”. It was ugly at first but it’s two years in and it appears that the hard work up front has allowed the garden to grow and begin to thrive. With a little maintenance and care, I expect the garden will contribute to our community.

With time this garden will find it’s place in the community. Should I move the boulder here?

A time to…

As I look at our human garden, I wonder if we aren’t starting the reestablishment process. It might be time to look at our human institutions and create the conditions for new systems. Maybe we need to completely eliminate some systems, and plant new ones that are more adapted to our communities.

We might consider institutions that thrive and are nurtured and sustained by community input. Instead of cutting people off when they don’t immediately flower, what might happen if we applied the same compassion to other people that we apply to our own children and grandchildren? For many, the world feels ugly right now, but others see the potential underneath all the unsightly mulch, cardboard, rocks, and wet newspapers.

Blooms

In the back yard an iris I planted several years ago has been a total dud—no blooms, just boring go-nowhere iris leaves. I was planning to dig it up and toss it. But on memorial day this year my dud of an iris flowered into brilliant pure white blooms. What a lovely gift!  Iris people love to name their irises. I’ve named mine the Mr. George Floyd Iris.

Kindred Spirits, June 18th

The Kindred Spirits online Zoom gathering has been a great international community connection point. The next gathering will be Thursday, June 18th from 6:30 p.m. to, at the latest, 8:00 p.m. central daylight time. It’s free and all people of loving intention are invited. This month our topic will be “Taking Responsible Action”. The gathering includes group meditation, a brief presentation, and conversation. It’s free but you must register to attend. You can register on the Healing Ground website.

Categories
Mindfulness Politics of Well-Being The Spirit

Learning from those who came before

Today, I wept through about half of my morning meditation. Despite the fact that all-in-all I am holding up just fine during our period of separation, today I felt the suffering, deep in my heart. And it hurt.

I suspect this was triggered by my thinking about the abomination happening in the United States electoral system—this time in my home state, and current neighbor, Wisconsin. Watching people line up for blocks at my high school (Riverside in the link) in order to vote at one of five polling places in a city of 600,000 broke my heart.

Poll workers and voters caring for the universal body conducting an election while putting their health and their lives at risk at my high school gym.
People risking their lives to to vote at my high school.

Sadness

Then I thought about the suffering of the grocery workers, the health care workers, the delivery workers, the truck drivers, the sanitation workers. Then I remembered the best Certified Nursing Assistant in the world (at least my limited world after joint replacement surgery), Jane, and I wondered how she was holding up. After that I flashed on how the pandemic is, as always, dis-proportionally killing people of color—particularly African Americans. After that came, “what about Iran and Syria”, and “what about the millions wandering the planet looking for a home?”  Somewhere in there the tears started falling.

Anger

Along with sadness, I felt anger that the most vulnerable carry the burden for the most protected, privileged, and hateful in our world. As I was reciting the compassion mantra I wondered, “What’s the point of all this meditating? What difference will it make?”

Being

I, to my surprise ended up meditating for a full hour, which was considerably longer than my usual 15 morning minutes. Somehow I got lost in the meditation, my feelings, and the moment. I guess my experience explains one of the reasons I just keep on meditating—especially now. I can lose myself for those few moments and just “be”.

However, after I’ve just “been” where do I go and what do I do? Well, I’m a health coach, not God. I have no answers. But I do have thoughts and here are three of them.

How to act?

First, as I said last post, it is important for all of us to stay as physically and mentally healthy as possible. If we don’t stay healthy we will have difficulty taking any action and will harm our universal body.

Second, we (especially health and well-being professionals), need to learn to speak up. There are so many health and wellness videos and Zoom groups out there in social media land giving health tips for managing the physical body during a pandemic. It would be helpful if health and well-being professionals would speak to the all the facets of the body—especially the universal body. If we are all connected, as we claim we are, then it would behoove us to speak up when we see damage happening to that universal body. We can no longer just post pretty social media flower pictures. We must point out the damage done to us all when our fellows are forced to choose between their physical health and their political health or when we are fed junk science like it is the final truth. We must ask publicly, “What about the people of Iran, Syria, Mississippi, Alabama, and Wisconsin?”  If we are all connected, then we all matter and if we have multiple levels of existence, we must pay attention to all of those levels or risk becoming irrelevant.

A few timely words from Gil Scott Heron.

And third, we will all benefit if we offer compassion to all sentient beings including ourselves and our enemies. This doesn’t mean we have to like or approve of the behavior of these beings. But, we must recognize that we are all connected (even our enemies) and understand that we all suffer.  I can’t exactly tell you the deep reasons for how this works (I’ll leave this for the Buddha, Jesus, the Prophet Muhammad, Lao Tzu, Bob Marley, Richard Feynman and others who seem better able explain these things). However, I can say that by regularly offering compassion I feel better and my mind is clearer than it was before I practiced compassion. I’m better able to manage my emotions and I am better able to function in the world. And, with all that clarity, I’m better able to speak up.

A few timely words from the Bodhisattvas.
This meditation came to me from my friend Claire and was suggested by His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama for managing ourselves during this pandemic. It has brought me a great deal of comfort over the last few weeks

Just three ideas

Remember everybody, this pandemic stuff is new to all of us and we’re all making it up as we go along. I suggest turning to the great teachers who have shown us that by taking a few intentional steps to better serve the common good we will, at worst, not be adding to the misery, and at best, be contributing to the alleviation of suffering in our suffering world. And we need that now.

That’s what I have today. Three simple ideas: take care, speak up, be compassionate. Think about them and report back.

Kindred Spirits Online: April 23

As we slog through this pandemic, I am still planning a Kindred Spirits online Zoom gathering for this month on April 23rd from 6:30 to 7:30 p.m. It’s free and all people of loving intention are invited. I haven’t settled on a topic yet but am thinking of something around our breathe. I’ll let you know when I figure it out. Our first online gathering was very enlightening and enjoyable. It was wonderful connecting with people and sharing experiences. It’s free but you must register to attend. You can register on the Healing Ground website.

Categories
Politics of Well-Being Social Connection The Spirit

Dr. King Holiday: It’s Personal

Today is Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. day in the United States. It happens in the dead of winter when I welcome even the smallest ray of light. For me, this holiday has a great deal of meaning. It’s the one holiday I take personally. Possibly because it celebrates a man who was doing his work when I was actually alive, and possibly it’s because the lessons we learn from Dr. King are as relevant today as they were when I was a child. It’s probably both. But I know it is also because of my personal experience as a child-pawn in all Dr. King was fighting against.

Have you forgotten?

So why am I talking about Dr. King and the civil rights movement in a health and well-being blog? Have you already forgotten about the Universal Body? Oh dear. It is so easy for us to prioritize the gross (physical) body over all others and to see the universal body as just a side-line. Well, either we are all connected or we’re not. And, if we ARE connected, then the health of the universal body is equal in importance to that of the others.  And, damage to the universal touches on the gross body and the subtle body and vice versa. That’s why it’s important for all of us to take care of our physical bodies, spirits, minds, and souls—AND—why it is important for all of us to take care of our universal bodies. In short, it is difficult (impossible?) to live a happy and healthy life while ignoring the suffering of others. That is just the way it is and why I see Martin Luther King Jr. as a celebration of the Universal Body.  

My bus kids story

I grew up Milwaukee, Wisconsin, an epicenter of Midwest urban racism during the 1950s and 60s (and possibly still today). Fortunately, I was raised by parents who supported the civil rights struggle and who taught me that we all were equal. As a young child I didn’t understand prejudice or racism, but I also didn’t have ANY interactions with black people at Garden Homes Elementary School. (We did have one girl of Japanese descent in our class, one Jewish kid in the first grade, and one Native American girl in class, as I recall). Then, sometime around maybe second or third grade the “bus kids” arrived on the scene. These “bus kids” were black children who arrived mysteriously every morning at our school in school buses.

My elementary school, Garden Homes elementary school, is now (I’m happy to say) Lloyd Barbee Montessori School. Lloyd Barbee was a Milwaukee civil rights attorney who worked tirelessly on school desegregation cases. My mother was thrilled to know I went to the same high school as his daughter. I guess she thought it lent my high school some cred. She would be thrilled to know Garden Homes school was renamed after Mr Barbee..

We were told they were kids who went to school in buildings that needed to be repaired and they were at our school temporarily, until their schools were fixed. They had their own teachers, met in totally separate spaces (I’m not sure where…in the school basement?), ate at separate lunch times at unknown locations, and had separate recesses.

We, white kids, had very little interaction with the bus kids. However, to my shame, I recall I encountered a “bus girl” at the outside bubbler one time, when I decided she skipped in line. After being egged on by the class bully, I made a nasty and mean (unfortunately racist—fortunately not  the “N” word) comment to her. I immediately regretted what I said. I knew it was wrong and I’ve felt bad, deep in my gut, about that comment ever since. You see, sometimes you just can’t undo your actions, you have to live with the results and ask for forgiveness. That was my ONLY direct interaction with a “bus kid” that I can recall and I am sad about it.

By the time I was in maybe fifth grade, a few black kids had actually moved to the neighborhood and were part of our actual class.  By eighth grade about half our class was made up of black students and the bus kids had disappeared (at least from my young teen field of vision). And the world moved on.

Connecting the dots

It wasn’t until I was adult that I was able to connect the dots and understand that the “bus kids” were really child-victims of the city of Milwaukee’s policy of racial segregation of public schools. They were being shuttled around, even to the point of being driven back to their home schools for lunch, in an effort to hoodwink the world into believing the schools were racially integrated. (I strongly encourage you to check out these two above links to learn more).

Then, as efforts were finally made to allow black families into previously forbidden  neighborhoods, white people fled these areas like wildfire.

Questioning the story

It wasn’t until my forties that I actually thought about and started questioning the “bus kids” story. And, it wasn’t until my fifties that I sat down and read the details of what was actually happening. It was all part of a REAL racist conspiracy. It wasn’t just in MY or anyone else’s head. It HAPPENED and I was a witness to and a participant in it.

Reflections

Today, on this Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. day, I am reflecting on my experience. What I am coming to understand is that history isn’t something that happens to other people at particularly significant times. History is us, now. And now, and now. It isn’t something we peer at through a mental window or watch on television. History is the sum total of the lives we have led up until now. And it doesn’t change or go away because we don’t like what happened, it is part of who we are, even if it is painful in our gut. Some might say it’s our Karma. I wonder if it isn’t the clearest reflection of the Universal Body we have available to us.

So, on this important day, as we stare out at troubled times I have intense gratitude for those who have lived and fought the United States (and world-wide) civil right struggles over the centuries and I honor those living and fighting the civil rights struggles now, hour by hour and day by day. I ask for forgiveness for hurts I have inflicted on individuals and the struggle and I ask for strength to be part a constructive force as we move our universal body forward. And I invite all of my readers to join me in celebration of a man, a movement, and a struggle that may yet save us all. Thank You Dr. King!

https://youtu.be/sLQNMWHjC-0
This is a time for universal celebration!

If you are interested in contributing to the universal body in a meaningful way, consider attending the Kindred Spirits gathering this Thursday Jan. 23rd, 2020 at St. Peder’s Evangelical Lutheran Church, 4600 E. 42nd St., Minneapolis, MN 55406, from 6:30 to 8:00 p.m. It is a “pay what you can” gathering.

In the January session we’ll explore awareness, the first step towards making any meaningful changes in our lives. Join us!

Learn more
Categories
Mindfulness Politics of Well-Being The Spirit Uncategorized

Solstice Comfort

Tomorrow is the official day of the Winter Solstice. Soon, we will begin to see tiny increases in sunlight. I’m trying to stay away from an attachment to sunlight—but it is not easy.

As the sun mysteriously disappeared over the last few months I have found myself retreating into comfort, which is not a good place for me to inhabit. I know this instinctively but have also had this validated by virtually every avenue possible: Ayurveda, the Enneagram, the Tarot, the I Ching, psychotherapy, my mother, and simple common sense.

Comfort is an insidious force. After all, comfort can feel really good at a certain level. Who doesn’t like the comfort of wrapping ourselves in a blanket in front of the tv and just zoning out for a while? But, when carried to an extreme, that comfortable situation can turn to sloth, and it can happen without us even recognizing it’s happening.

The winter solstice brings long, lazy, dark shadows early in the day (3 p.m.). But despite the darkness, the rabbits seem to stay active 24/7 (those prints are from rabbits).

Comfort and the current world

This time around, comfort manifested itself in a very uncomfortable way: current world events.

Over the past few months, I’ve found myself glued to the television, wondering how we let our world slide back into horrors I naively thought we had overcome. This triggered many difficult emotions and I pondered how or even if I could best serve the common good as my country of origin descended into the abyss. I worried that for all my commitment to mindfulness, non-violence, and compassion, I was not finding a helpful avenue for action.

tv's
The insidious comfort of politics via the TV is not serving me well.

As I basked in these feelings of despair, I began to see that my attachment to the outcome of current events is comfortable for me, as uncomfortable as it may seem. I am comfortable raging (both inwardly and outwardly) about the state of the world while ignoring ways in which I could truly contribute to the common good—the WE.

Meanwhile, life goes on

Comfort even helps me to ignore writing my Blog! I’m learning that maintaining a blog is not for the faint of heart—it requires being very uncomfortable. During my “hiatus” from my blog, life has gone on around and within me. I engaged in a semester long Tibetan Medicine class, attended a Tibetan Buddhist retreat, celebrated Thanksgiving with friends, figured out my Medicare plans (to whatever degree that is possible), visited with friends, went to shows, danced, sang, had lunches with friends, and shoveled a fair amount of snow. Yet still, in the background, this familiar dread has been murmuring, “The world is falling apart and you are doing nothing about it!” Oh, poor me, me, me, me, ME!!!

This inner voice is one with whom I’m familiar, and comfortable. It enables qualities in myself that I would do well to overcome: self-righteousness, helplessness, and cowardliness. It facilitates chronic inaction in the same way that the comfort of sitting in front of the TV day after day with a box of chocolates would.

Understanding the true nature of comfort

I think I’m finally beginning to understand the concept that comfort is not a state of joy and relaxation, but a state of passivity. It isn’t necessarily a state of physical or mental stillness but a state with which we’ve become overly familiar and to which we’ve become habituated. It could mean feeling comfort when catering to the demands of others, or a comfort with constantly being on the go, or comfort with being undervalued on the job, or comfort with aggression or timidity, or…  I see my state of comfort as a state of cowardice. And I am beginning to see this ongoing state of comfort as the enemy that hinders my ability to be of service to the world (including myself).

“If you take the negative as absolute and definitive, however, you increase your worries and anxiety, whereas by broadening the way you look at a problem, you understand what is bad about it, but you accept it…”

― Dalai Lama XIV, My Spiritual Journey

To overcome negative states, Ayurveda and Tibetan Buddhism suggest applying the opposite force. For the person who settles into the comfort of physical sloth, physical movement might be a start, or if someone is comfortable being constantly “on the go”, intentional periods of repose and contemplation may be in order.  

For me, this means staying aware and informed while wrestling with the discomfort of knowing that my inner desire to see myself as the moral arbiter of all things (political and otherwise) may not be serving either myself or the world.  It means letting go of that comfortable (but unhelpful) feeling of rage and angst. It means (and this is the really hard part) cultivating a genuine feeling of compassion towards all living beings—even those with whom I vehemently disagree. And it means recognizing that we are all connected, we all suffer and we ALL are worthy of compassion. This recognition of compassion, is in itself, an action. It’s a small seed waiting to bloom.

“Profound happiness, unlike fleeting pleasures, is spiritual by nature. It depends on the happiness of others, and it is based on love and tenderness. We”

Dalai Lama XIV, My Spiritual Journey

A seed germinates

Yesterday I was blind-sided by the news that a major Christian evangelical publication had spoken out against some of the behavior of those actively sewing seeds of hate. This happened a week or so after I decided to just let go (at least for now) of my obsession with current affairs and earnestly try to practice compassion. I felt a remarkable feeling of relief after reading of the germination of this seed and reminded myself that this had nothing to do with “me” and everything to do with “we”.

Kindred Spirits reconvenes

The Kindred Spirits gathering will re-convene Thursday Jan 23rd, 2020 at St. Peder’s Evangelical Lutheran Church, 4600 E. 42nd St., Minneapolis, MN 55406, from 6:30 to 8:00 p.m.. Note that the sessions will be running a half hour earlier than in 2019..

In the January session we’ll explore awareness, the first step towards making any meaningful changes in our lives.

Categories
Ayurveda Mindfulness Self-care The Spirit

Finding Clarity in the Strangest of Situations

I had a nasty bout of insomnia (of my own making?) last night. I found myself still in front of the television at 11 p.m. before I flipped the switch and headed to bed. This is a death knell for my normally good sleep patterns. I generally need to be in bed before 10 p.m. or my brain decides to turn on at just the wrong time.  This, Ayurveda teaches me, is totally to be expected. It’s a reflection of existence. Our pita (fire) elements begin to stoke around 11 a.m. and get in the way of sleep triggers (they are more appropriately inducing deep sleep and dream states). Thus, bedtime between 9 and 10:00 p.m. is a natural way to develop healthy sleep patterns.

The times associated with the doshas indicate when they are most active. Pita, the fire element, was most active as I was trying to induce sleep. My efforts to fall asleep were fruitless due, in part, to the active fire element doing what is supposed to do in my system.

I knew this, but was compelled to complete the show I was watching, a Ken Burns documentary about the history of Country Music in the U.S. It is a subject about which I’m very interested and Ken Burns’ work has a strange way of sucking me into its “we are all in this together” vibe. Was my behavior worth it, given the rather dazed state I’m experiencing now?  My answer is, maybe, just this once, but “let’s not make this a habit.”

My Experience

As I ruminated and ruminated and meditated and ruminated and ruminated and read and tossed and turned and read some more and wandered around the house and ruminated and ruminated and ruminated, read some more, meditated some more, castigated myself, ruminated, ruminated, forced myself to not look at the clock, listened to the crickets, wondered if they were birds, ruminated, ruminated, etc (you know the drill) a strange thing happened.  I fell asleep for a few hours.

This experience disrupted my routine and left me feeling less than stellar today. But, I’m ok, have the freedom to add a few hours of sleep to the morning, and am just trying to go with the flow.

While meditating this morning (considerably later than usual) I noticed an interesting phenomenon. I felt a level of clarity I hadn’t felt for awhile. It was like all the ruminating had purged my mind of a lot of detritus. I was able to gain a glimpse of the sense of being an empty vessel. Much of what I had been ruminating over and rehearsing in my mind through the night just wasn’t there, at least for that moment,. In its place was a sense of clarity, like a calm pool of water.

Clarity comes to me like a gentle pool of rippled water. Unfortunately, clarity never seems to be intrusively “in my face.”

Naming It

So, I felt the need to write my experience down, name it, to make it real. Writing is one tool I use to remember these sort of experiences. Without some method of codifying these experiences my mind fills up quickly and these moments of clarity dissolve into the pool.

Writing a blog is an interesting experience. While I have wanted to post every week, that just hasn’t been possible. It isn’t lack of inspiration (I don’t think writing is necessarily about “inspiration”, at least not exclusively). It isn’t about “will” (whatever that is). It isn’t necessarily about the “doing” either…many days I write, just not things I want to share. Today, I think, my  decision to blog involves naming clarity.

A state of clarity is when my mind is clear of all the things that clutter it up, worry, anxiety, ego, striving, expectation, etc (you know this drill too). In these rare moments of clarity, I am able to use my mind as a vessel for whatever is out there to be shared.

Sometimes the Preamble to Clarity is Arduous

I appreciate the clarity, although, I must say, I often prefer to reach this level of clarity using easier methods. Insomnia is a pretty unpleasant experience. The problem, as I see it, is that those easier methods aren’t always apparent to me. Fortunately these days the unpleasantness is usually short lived. I have a non-pharmaceutical plan for achieving sleep bliss tonight. This plan has worked in the past and I think it will tonight.

This difficult night followed by bright clarity makes me feel like I’ve taken a another brief foray into the underworld. This time to purge myself of my chatter-box demons. Like so many mythic characters before me, maybe I’m now part of a special club. I’m surprised though;  I never expected Ken Burns would be the one to open these gates for me. Goes to show, you never can tell.

Monthly Gathering Next Thursday

I invite you to join me next week, Thurs. September 26 at 7 p.m. for a monthly community gathering at St. Peder’s church, 4600 E 42nd St, Minneapolis, MN 55406 in South Minneapolis’ Longfellow neighborhood. Cost (suggested donation) is $25 per session. I suspect, much of what I’ve been blogging about will emerge in the sessions. But, again, you never can tell. Learn more at Healing-ground.com/events or email me at info@healing-ground.com. It would be helpful if you could let me know if you will be attending but feel free to just drop in. I certainly will not be turning anyone away!

You Never Can Tell

https://youtu.be/Qv8gwgNG5R8
You Never Can Tell. Tru That! Emmy Lou Harris’ version of this classic is joyful and carefree. She hasn’t appeared in the Ken Burns documentary yet but I’m sure she will when we get to the 1970s. I first saw and heard her do this number in 1975 when she was new on the scene. I was totally blown away by her singing, her musicianship, and her incredibly fine band. And, she even has her name on her guitar strap!
https://youtu.be/qjdYBzzWsew
Emmy Lou is still performing, she’s still cool, still has her name on her guitar strap, and I’m still listening.
Categories
Mindfulness Self-care The Spirit

Taking time

Lavender blooms

This morning I discovered that my lavender plant was blooming – just a few little blooms, but blooming nonetheless. Witnessing this filled me with joy: joy of accomplishment, joy of beauty, and joy of the recognition that things take time.

So, why the big deal about two tiny little flowers on a lavender plant? Well, first, lavender is a plant that seems to thrive in all gardens but mine. I’ve been trying to grow lavender since the inception of my current gardens—that would be fourteen years, which feels like a long time.

When I first planted lavender in the ground,  I had visions of the fields of French lavender we see in photos on the web.  Most years I would put a plant in the ground and it would just sit there in the garden; if I was lucky, getting green, if unlucky, turning brown and wasting away. One year, when I was not particularly aware of the lavender, I accidentally dug it out, thinking it was a weed.  So, I was about to give up my dreams of fields of French lavender.

Pretty, but NOT my garden.

Last year I tried growing lavender in a container, where the soil was warmer. I tried it, just, because. To my amazement it survived the summer, but with no blooms. That was ok. I took what I could get.  I brought the pot indoors to my porch over the winter where it was the sole survivor of a suite of plants that couldn’t manage the rather “cool” winter we experienced. I put it back outside in the spring, watered it, fed it, and generally delighted in its mere existence. At one point, I absent-mindedly clipped out some of the lavender leaves for my rosemary potatoes—only to discover I’d clipped the wrong plant!  (I don’t think lavender potatoes are actually a thing).

Just two little bloom on a fourteen year lavender quest.

Then, this morning, after fourteen years of  hitting and missing, I saw two tiny lavender blooms! I nearly fell over. I thought of my mother who loved flowers and reluctantly acknowledged that maybe she was right (yet again) when she suggested I “be patient.”

These days I find patience to be a difficult quality to cultivate. Living in a world that rewards instantaneous results and dismisses patient resolve as “old school” can make me feel like a square peg in a round hole. It can be frustrating to be treated like a relic by simply suggesting  that we “wait and see” what happens.

Brilliant Mind of Edison Lee by John Hambrock, Minneapolis Star Tribune, 6/9/19

But, for a brief moment, the pretty purple flowers reaffirmed my belief in the value to myself and the world of staying present and living in and loving the moment.

In the end, when I look at the lavender,  I understand that we human beings live in a world of which we are a very small piece. And anyone who takes the time to observe this world knows that destruction can happen quickly but growth takes time. And with this observation I can choose to be part of the destruction or part of the growth. For now, I am choosing growth, one tiny bloom at a time.

Anyone who takes the time to observe this world knows that destruction can happen quickly but growth takes time. And with this observation I can choose to be part of the destruction or part of the growth. For now, I am choosing growth, one tiny bloom at a time.

Healing Ground Health Coaching
Categories
Mindfulness Politics of Well-Being Self-care Social Connection The Spirit

Politics: Yes, I’m going there

I’m feeling uplifted today. After watching two extended conversations between potential presidential candidates I am pleased that the counterforces to the current hateful political ideology have chosen to step up and speak out. Finally, people are speaking the truth, out loud and in public, and naming the horrors happening around us every day.

People in my profession, apparently, are not supposed to talk publicly about politics. I guess politics is considered unsavory in a spiritual and mindful profession. This makes no sense to me. If we are all made up a physical body, a subtle (energetic, spiritual) body, and a universal body (as I believe we are, at minimum), then how can we justify ignoring such a significant portion our universal body?  

The Universal Body

The “universe” isn’t just the sky, stars, eternal space, and ethereal energetic forces. The “universe” is also material. It’s our neighbors and the parent searching for their child at the border. The universe is the people sleeping in tents along Hiawatha Avenue and those wandering the earth looking for a place to reestablish their roots. The universe is also the pharma executive, the farmer in the fields, and person serving us our lattes. The universe is the person who rations their insulin. The universe is the trees, water, air, birds, turtles, and even rabbits. The universe includes the men who call themselves President of the United States, Prime Minister of India, and President of Russia. Everything, including ourselves, makes up the universal and we ignore it at our peril.

Gratitude

While watching the debates I felt an upsurge of energy that I hadn’t felt in a long time. The United States has been so laden with hate and anxiety over the last few years that I had begun to wonder if that was all there was left in the material political world. Was the answer to simply ignore the universal and retreat from the material into the spiritual?

Seeing the wide variety of individuals stating their philosophies, visions, and ideas I felt a sense of gratitude for these twenty real people who were willing to take on this huge challenge. I was pleased to see at least one candidate stick her neck out and approach issues from an energetic point of view—love versus hate. I nearly jumped up and kissed the TV when one candidate took on an establishment candidate with ferocity—when she made it personal. Hearing a candidate frame the ultimate universal issue of the climate crisis in honest existential terms made my heart sing. And hearing the words “piss” (“should piss us all off and spur us to action”) and asses (Russia has been laughing their asses off”) in a nationally televised debate made me laugh and reminded me that energetic forces may be realigning but I think they have a sense of humor, and I can still laugh.

Insight

This morning, during my meditation I received a helpful insight. Paul Wellstone, the no-longer-with us, beloved, former senator from Minnesota and political mentor and hero to many of us, showed up (as he does on occasion).  He smiled his honest, crooked smile and reminded me that while politics is a material action, it also embodies the spiritual action of creation, dreaming, and imagination: “In the last analysis, politics is not predictions and politics is not observations. Politics is what we do. Politics is what we do, politics is what we create, by what we work for, by what we hope for and what we dare to imagine.”  

“In the last analysis, politics is not predictions and politics is not observations. Politics is what we do. Politics is what we do, politics is what we create, by what we work for, by what we hope for and what we dare to imagine.”  

Paul Wellstone

Paul reminded me that as much as we want to deny and demonize politics, as something engaged in by the evil “them,” the truth is that ultimately, politics is us. It’s how we choose to organize ourselves at a universal level in this material world and it requires the spiritual self to even start the work.  

Let’s engage in some politics.

Categories
Mindfulness Self-care The Spirit

Recognizing the Sacred

My beloved native prairie garden is thriving. I planted this experiment in the most inhospitable of locations a number of years ago. It occupies a strip about 17 feet long by 2 feet deep between my garage and the city alley. That spot takes a beating every winter, facing snow, salt, snow blowers, snow plows, garbage bins, and shovels. In the summer it only receives afternoon sun and contends with vehicles, dogs, and, people who don’t even notice there is a prairie in their midst.

Little Prairie on the Alley.

I became enamored with prairies a number of years ago when I visited Blue Mounds Minnesota State Park in the south western corner of the state while on a pilgrimage to the family South Dakota grave site. I managed to visit in spring when the park’s prairie was in full bloom. I was so mesmerized by the variety and beauty of flora in the prairie that I never even noticed the bison for which the park is known. I couldn’t walk the relatively small prairie without wondering what it must have been like to see the vast mid North American continent before domestic agriculture turned the land into a chemical waste dump.

  • Prairie smoke, one of the original plantings, is an early bloomer.
  • I saw cacti in the Blue Mounds prairie and was inspired.

Leave it alone

I’ve learned that the trick for helping a native prairie thrive (once it’s established) is to just leave it alone. Fertilizer will kill it. So, I try to follow directions and just let it be (although I do some weeding of random invaders, pick up the trash that appears, and add plants periodically). This year, the two newcomer plants (planted last year) are thriving: the sacred prairie sage is glorious and the life-giving milkweed is doing just fine, thank you.

  • This milkweed is a newcomer. I bought it at the Bloomington Garden Club plant sale last year. Once they get established, milkweeds are pretty self-sufficient members of the prairie community.
  • Prairie Sage is considered sacred by the native peoples of this continent. This was the first plant entrusted to the care of humans by the creator.

Once, a few years ago, when I was cleaning out the prairie, a distant neighbor asked me “why bother?” to work on a garden on the alley in a city. I was stunned. All I could sputter out was “because it’s beautiful!” He just glared at me and walked away. I felt sad for that guy.  

The world is an ugly place these days, there is no doubt about it. I cannot ignore the ugliness or suffering will increase astronomically and I will be complicit. At the same time, I cannot ignore the sacred and beautiful or I will lose my sense of purpose. And without purpose, the question, “Why bother?” becomes a valid question with no answer.

I cannot not ignore the sacred and beautiful or I will lose my sense of purpose. And without purpose, the question, “Why bother?” becomes a valid question with no answer.

Categories
Mindfulness Self-care Social Connection The Spirit

Letting Go

Seeds Letting go

I let go of my record album collection several years ago. Of all the items I’ve let go of, my beloved albums were the most difficult. They defined a good portion of my life. From my very first Beatles album (Something New) to my favorite Beatles album (Revolver) to my musical mentor Joni Mitchell, to the eclectic sounds of Frasier and Debolt, to the intense beauty of John Coltrane. Each album described a piece of my life.

My first and my favorite.

I procrastinated for years about these albums. I couldn’t imagine life without them. Never mind that I hadn’t listened a single one of them for many years. In fact, I hadn’t owned a working turn table since well before the turn of the century!

My first record player, a Barbie record player, was my prized possession.

The realization

The final motivation for this purge came when I decided I needed to clear space in my house. I was headed into bi-lateral knee replacement surgery and everything—I mean EVERYTHING (I tend to go to extremes)—needed to be cleared out so I could use a walker in my house (even though my album collection was tucked away in a closet!).

It was an arduous job. Just dragging those heavy crates out of the closet and into the light of day required muscle. I reviewed, sorted, reminisced, and cried over them but eventually was able to lug them, small container by small container, into the back of my car for distribution. It took me several months to go through this process. I sold what had monetary value and donated the remainder.

The payoff

Several young people at the donation-station were very excited to see Beatle albums (so worn that the record store didn’t want them). They gathered around my boxes of albums to ooo and ahh at all this “vintage” music.  I felt like quite the sage-music-guru, for that brief moment.

And guess what happened. I went home and felt lighter, fresher, and happier than I’d felt in a long time. I put something that was important to me out into the universe, let it go, passed it on and, in this case, received instant gratification (who doesn’t want to be a sage-music-guru).

Who doesn’t want to be a wise sage?

The work

Today, as I’m noticing how I’m feeling refreshed (finally) after a two-week heavy metal dietary cleanse (started about a month ago), I see how helpful it can be for me to let go. Not all the time, but when the time is right. Just like our minds have difficulty letting go, so our bodies do. But once that letting go happens, what a delight it is. I’m beginning to see that I cannot control how that delight happens, nor can I control when. I just need to create the fertile ground for the delight to germinate. And, my experience tells me that I must pay attention, or I will miss that moment.

Seeds Letting go
Our job is to let go.

This brings to mind a portion of a prayer, I, and many of my like-minded friends, say when we find ourselves grasping for stuff, control, and outcome: “Relieve me of the bondage of self, that I may better do thy will…”

Our job is to let go. The rest takes care of itself.