So about action......here it is. It doesn't have to be big action. You don't have to believe that the action is going to change ANYTHING. It just has to make you at least a little afraid, a little uncomfortable. It's not going to feel good. Okay, it may feel a little better afterward if the outcome is good. But the point is to step out of the usual, the regular, the normal. Switch it up. If you can't own the change for yourself, think of the person or being you admire most, and do what he/she/it would do. The shakier it makes you feel, the more powerful the medicine.
And then do it again. And again. And again. Practice leaning into the sensation of difference.
And then watch what happens. Notice how new people appear in your life. Notice how the people you know have changed. NOTICE that you are one step closer to more fully embodying the perfection that lies within you. You will be different, and so will the world around you.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
When you're going through hell.......
......just keep going. We've all heard this. My favorite analogue to is, "Ain't nothin' to it but to do it." These aphorisms are easy to toss out, but what does it mean to really live them? I'm a dyed-in-the-wool ruminator, and I like to think and talk about stuff a lot more than I like to do it. But change doesn't happen unless we act. I was reminded of this yesterday by a dear friend after she suffered through a rather melodramatic diatribe in which I raved about how stuck I was in patterns I wanted to be rid of. The bottom line is that nothing changes until we do. The setting and the cast may change, but we will continue to act out the same dramas over and over until we start working from a new script.
No matter how small or how tentative, action transforms.
I have more to say about this, so be looking for part II in the next couple of days.
No matter how small or how tentative, action transforms.
I have more to say about this, so be looking for part II in the next couple of days.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Hello Again
Obviously, I haven't made good on my promise of consistency, but I am back with something of a journal entry. Just a few musings on how I would like to get along in the world.
1.) Ground down. I recently moved, but I am still working in the same job. This requires me to stay with some very generous friends for half of the week, with long weekends at home. Living in two places, or nowhere at all as the case may be, leaves me feeling like a leaf being blown by the wind. This situation brings home to me just how important it is that I make time for my practice and anything else that makes me feel anchored and connected.
2.) Stay open. The rootlessness that I am feeling right now is pushing me toward closing down in an effort to conserve energy and protect myself. I feel vulnerable. But that's no good for nobody. Keeping my senses open in these moments positions me to take advantage of all that the Universe is pitching me. I wholeheartedly believe that the closer you are to the edge of your comfort zone, the more you are offered; there's the "tough love" piece, sure, but also the opportunity for deep transformation and the support you need to make change. But these opportunities are not going to be coming from the directions we expect! That's why I have to stay open.
3.) Give thanks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So, to speak to my specific situation, I am thankful to have friends who are so generous as to open their home and their lives to me for four days and nights each week. They have integrated me into their schedules and been flexible with my odd comings and goings. I can't believe their graciousness in this regard. And I am thankful for my spouse, who patiently lives the single life while I am away, and makes sure that we have EVERYTHING we need to make this uncomfortable situation work as smoothly as possible. And I am thankful to have an employer that allows me the flexibility to work and live in different cities.
More generally, though, gratitude ripens us. It makes us more aware. And as a practice, it orients us to what we want. When we are thankful for what we have, truly madly deeply thankful, when we feel it in our guts, we becomed focused on the joy, compassion, and abundance inherent in life. Our senses become attuned to recognizing the good, the highest, in everyone and everything. And that builds our trust in the Universe, which is key for uncertain times. All this from just taking a moment to be honestly thankful!
These are my practices right now. They all require me to slow down, a real challenge when I feel anxious. But even when I am only partially successful in them, I can feel the difference. So I'm going to keep on keepin' on in preparing the welcome wagon for my wildest dreams, which I know are soon to come true.
1.) Ground down. I recently moved, but I am still working in the same job. This requires me to stay with some very generous friends for half of the week, with long weekends at home. Living in two places, or nowhere at all as the case may be, leaves me feeling like a leaf being blown by the wind. This situation brings home to me just how important it is that I make time for my practice and anything else that makes me feel anchored and connected.
2.) Stay open. The rootlessness that I am feeling right now is pushing me toward closing down in an effort to conserve energy and protect myself. I feel vulnerable. But that's no good for nobody. Keeping my senses open in these moments positions me to take advantage of all that the Universe is pitching me. I wholeheartedly believe that the closer you are to the edge of your comfort zone, the more you are offered; there's the "tough love" piece, sure, but also the opportunity for deep transformation and the support you need to make change. But these opportunities are not going to be coming from the directions we expect! That's why I have to stay open.
3.) Give thanks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So, to speak to my specific situation, I am thankful to have friends who are so generous as to open their home and their lives to me for four days and nights each week. They have integrated me into their schedules and been flexible with my odd comings and goings. I can't believe their graciousness in this regard. And I am thankful for my spouse, who patiently lives the single life while I am away, and makes sure that we have EVERYTHING we need to make this uncomfortable situation work as smoothly as possible. And I am thankful to have an employer that allows me the flexibility to work and live in different cities.
More generally, though, gratitude ripens us. It makes us more aware. And as a practice, it orients us to what we want. When we are thankful for what we have, truly madly deeply thankful, when we feel it in our guts, we becomed focused on the joy, compassion, and abundance inherent in life. Our senses become attuned to recognizing the good, the highest, in everyone and everything. And that builds our trust in the Universe, which is key for uncertain times. All this from just taking a moment to be honestly thankful!
These are my practices right now. They all require me to slow down, a real challenge when I feel anxious. But even when I am only partially successful in them, I can feel the difference. So I'm going to keep on keepin' on in preparing the welcome wagon for my wildest dreams, which I know are soon to come true.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Yama II: Satya
Satya is truthfulness. And as with ahimsa, satya begins in your own mind. We have to be honest with ourselves, first and foremost. We have to be authentic........
That was how I began my post on satya last Sunday. To be truthful, it sucked. Satya, like all of the yamas or niyamas, is not a "have to" kind of game. It starts softly and quietly, in the space where we can admit the truth about ourselves to ourselves. And that doesn't just mean me being able to say to myself, "you're a procrastinator." It also means owning what we love about ourselves and if we have trouble identifying those things, committing to finding them. Then we practice "owning it," as they say, first with ourselves and then with others.
Once we fully possess the knowledge of our truth, we can go about the process of living it. This is the hard part. Being honest with ourselves and others is a call to action. It requires us to step into conflict sometimes, and to make tough decisions sometimes. It can mean making ourselves vulnerable by sharing who we are with others, dropping the act of the role we think we need to play. But, if we start from the inside, nourishing and nurturing our truth internally first, then the process of living it becomes much easier.
That was how I began my post on satya last Sunday. To be truthful, it sucked. Satya, like all of the yamas or niyamas, is not a "have to" kind of game. It starts softly and quietly, in the space where we can admit the truth about ourselves to ourselves. And that doesn't just mean me being able to say to myself, "you're a procrastinator." It also means owning what we love about ourselves and if we have trouble identifying those things, committing to finding them. Then we practice "owning it," as they say, first with ourselves and then with others.
Once we fully possess the knowledge of our truth, we can go about the process of living it. This is the hard part. Being honest with ourselves and others is a call to action. It requires us to step into conflict sometimes, and to make tough decisions sometimes. It can mean making ourselves vulnerable by sharing who we are with others, dropping the act of the role we think we need to play. But, if we start from the inside, nourishing and nurturing our truth internally first, then the process of living it becomes much easier.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Yama I: Ahimsa
This last Sunday, I had the pleasure of participating in an event organized by Vicky Peters, Yoga Day Laramie. It was a day of giving, with the proceeds going to benefit UNICEF, and the classes happened at Blossom Yoga. My contribution was a talk on the yamas and niyamas, which form the first two of Patanjali's eight limbed yoga. There are five yamas and five niyamas, and it occurred to me that I might want to write an entry on each one. So today, here is my meditation on the first yama, ahimsa.
Ahimsa is translated as "non-violence" most commonly and sometimes as "non-harming." When people think about ahimsa, often their thoughts go to vegetarianism and pacificism. These are excellent applications of this principle. But for me, the practice of ahimsa begins in a much smaller and softer way. It begins the first time I look in the mirror in the morning. When we engage in negative self-talk, we are doing very real violence to ourselves the likes of which we would never inflict on another person.
The yamas are all about how to be in relationship, and our first and most important relationship is the one we have with ourselves. If we cannot be peaceful in our relationship with ourselves, being non-violent in our relationships with others is going to drain us of energy over time. And further, practicing peace "at home" gives us the strength we need for occasions in which being non-violent is a challenge.
As I've alluded, non-violence extends beyond actions and back into words and thoughts. Most of us have learned the lesson not to hit by the time we enter first grade, but it can take us a long time to train our minds and our tongues to keep peace. So here's a practice for this week that I'll be doing. When an unfair, hyper-critical thought enters my mind, I will attempt to counter it with something positive. If countering it is unavailable to me at that time, I can label that thought as violent and take a moment to stop, take a moment to breathe. I can then use that space I've created to make a more skillful choice. So much violence in thought and word occurs because we don't give ourselves and others that space.
This week, I'll be taking a breath before I berate the circumference of my thighs or a coworker's tardiness to a meeting. And if I forget to take that breath before, I'll take it after.
Ahimsa is translated as "non-violence" most commonly and sometimes as "non-harming." When people think about ahimsa, often their thoughts go to vegetarianism and pacificism. These are excellent applications of this principle. But for me, the practice of ahimsa begins in a much smaller and softer way. It begins the first time I look in the mirror in the morning. When we engage in negative self-talk, we are doing very real violence to ourselves the likes of which we would never inflict on another person.
The yamas are all about how to be in relationship, and our first and most important relationship is the one we have with ourselves. If we cannot be peaceful in our relationship with ourselves, being non-violent in our relationships with others is going to drain us of energy over time. And further, practicing peace "at home" gives us the strength we need for occasions in which being non-violent is a challenge.
As I've alluded, non-violence extends beyond actions and back into words and thoughts. Most of us have learned the lesson not to hit by the time we enter first grade, but it can take us a long time to train our minds and our tongues to keep peace. So here's a practice for this week that I'll be doing. When an unfair, hyper-critical thought enters my mind, I will attempt to counter it with something positive. If countering it is unavailable to me at that time, I can label that thought as violent and take a moment to stop, take a moment to breathe. I can then use that space I've created to make a more skillful choice. So much violence in thought and word occurs because we don't give ourselves and others that space.
This week, I'll be taking a breath before I berate the circumference of my thighs or a coworker's tardiness to a meeting. And if I forget to take that breath before, I'll take it after.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Disappointment
There's almost nothing worse. There's a sadness in it, along with a feeling of powerlessness. We identify something we want in our lives, often something worthy and laudable, and we pursue it. We study, consult, and prepare ourselves. We feel that the ground is ready and that we have done the work to deserve a particular outcome. So what happens when we don't get what we want?
The Rolling Stones clause ("You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you might find, you get what you need") rings a little empty in these moments. No one wants to believe that trying really hard will not insure that we will get what we want. Unfortunately, though, that is often the way it works. So how do we combat these feelings of diappointment? Or, maybe more usefully, how do we open to disappointment and use what it has to teach us?
1.) I gave the first one away. Open, accept, and try not to fight. Allowing ourselves to feel the sadness, anger, and powerlessness of disappointment will make us more compassionate people, both with ourselves and others. Nothing is out of bounds here. You can use all of the emotions that arise. All of them have something valuable to tell you.
2.) Recognize, albeit gently, that disappointment is a byproduct of our attachment to outcomes. When we do a only because we want b to happen, we're going to suffer if b doesn't come to pass. Disappointment is a bell that wakes us up after we've stepped a little to the right or left of our paths. It gives us the opportunity to refocus on the process and to practice a little more.
3.) DON'T GIVE UP, even if you decide that you need to change course or abandon a particular desire. Getting what we need (instead of what we want) is a tremendous gift, too, and accepting that gift graciously prepares us to receive and enjoy our deepest heart's desire.
The Rolling Stones clause ("You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you might find, you get what you need") rings a little empty in these moments. No one wants to believe that trying really hard will not insure that we will get what we want. Unfortunately, though, that is often the way it works. So how do we combat these feelings of diappointment? Or, maybe more usefully, how do we open to disappointment and use what it has to teach us?
1.) I gave the first one away. Open, accept, and try not to fight. Allowing ourselves to feel the sadness, anger, and powerlessness of disappointment will make us more compassionate people, both with ourselves and others. Nothing is out of bounds here. You can use all of the emotions that arise. All of them have something valuable to tell you.
2.) Recognize, albeit gently, that disappointment is a byproduct of our attachment to outcomes. When we do a only because we want b to happen, we're going to suffer if b doesn't come to pass. Disappointment is a bell that wakes us up after we've stepped a little to the right or left of our paths. It gives us the opportunity to refocus on the process and to practice a little more.
3.) DON'T GIVE UP, even if you decide that you need to change course or abandon a particular desire. Getting what we need (instead of what we want) is a tremendous gift, too, and accepting that gift graciously prepares us to receive and enjoy our deepest heart's desire.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Intention is everything!
So today, Ethan Nichtern used this memorable phrase to begin his entry at the Interdependence Project. Powerful stuff. I wrote three months ago that I wanted consistency in my writing for this blog, but clearly my intention was not strong enough to bear fruit in action. For me, intention is the seed, the soil, the sun, the water, and the fertilizer. But it can't be all of those things simultaneously. For the alchemy to work, I have to return again and again to my intention so that my desire can be born. The seed won't grow without food, water, and heat, and my attention can bring it all of those things if I commit to returning to it on a regular basis.
And not to beat a dead horse, but here comes the practicing thing again. Calling your mind back to your intention is a prelude to bringing your actions in line with it. You can't align yourself with a stranger, whether that stranger is a new way of eating, a new way of relating, or a new way of responding to situations. So I am called to examine my intention(s), to explore what they will require of me, and to begin the work of preparing myself to fulfill those requirements. Not an easy task, but it begins in that soft, quiet, and dark place where we can admit, "I want more ______ in my life." Not unlike where your favorite tomato plant starts.
Keeping in mind the hard work involved in committing to my intentions, I have to be kind to myself in choosing them. There is no need for a list a mile long. Nothing succeeds like success, so I need to begin with things that feel attainable. Ethan makes the distinction between an intention and an aspiration, and I think it is an important one. Ethan describes aspirations as vectors along which you align your life, with intentions being the priorities that move us along those vectors.
Ethan chooses five priorities or intentions for 2011 in his post, and I am going to do the same. I will say that they are subject to change, though.
1.) I will be more skillful in my speech.
2.) I will be gentler with myself.
3.) I will be gentler with others.
4.) I will gently persist in contemplation and in my practice.
5.) I will treat my body with more care.
So there you have it. I am hoping that 2011 will be a great year for all of us!
And not to beat a dead horse, but here comes the practicing thing again. Calling your mind back to your intention is a prelude to bringing your actions in line with it. You can't align yourself with a stranger, whether that stranger is a new way of eating, a new way of relating, or a new way of responding to situations. So I am called to examine my intention(s), to explore what they will require of me, and to begin the work of preparing myself to fulfill those requirements. Not an easy task, but it begins in that soft, quiet, and dark place where we can admit, "I want more ______ in my life." Not unlike where your favorite tomato plant starts.
Keeping in mind the hard work involved in committing to my intentions, I have to be kind to myself in choosing them. There is no need for a list a mile long. Nothing succeeds like success, so I need to begin with things that feel attainable. Ethan makes the distinction between an intention and an aspiration, and I think it is an important one. Ethan describes aspirations as vectors along which you align your life, with intentions being the priorities that move us along those vectors.
Ethan chooses five priorities or intentions for 2011 in his post, and I am going to do the same. I will say that they are subject to change, though.
1.) I will be more skillful in my speech.
2.) I will be gentler with myself.
3.) I will be gentler with others.
4.) I will gently persist in contemplation and in my practice.
5.) I will treat my body with more care.
So there you have it. I am hoping that 2011 will be a great year for all of us!
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