Three Words for 2018

It's that time again, a new year. A new opportunity to take stock, review what has come to pass, and set some intentions for living into 2018. I've been choosing three words to guide me for the past several years, words which point to concepts that support my curious inquiry as I make my way, as I keep learning how to allow Way to open as it will.

My words for 2017 were Simplicity, Power, and Forgiveness. As always, I had endless opportunities to explore each one, when I remembered to. I went long stretches without including these three in my awareness or in direct experience. When I recalled my intentions, however, examples of each were everywhere around me, either by their application or by their absence.

As I knew it would be, Power was absolutely the issue of the day.

Whether in the #MeToo movement, or the dangerous egocentric posturing of the President toward foreign nation-states (toward nearly everybody), or taking a knee on the football field, or even in my own spiritual community, people have been pretty confused about power: what it is, how we wield it, how to get it, and how to hold on to it. On the flip side, there is Powerlessness, the sense that one has no choice, no agency over their experience. I continued to face my own powerlessness over the things I'm addicted to (Step 1 in the 12-Step tradition), and I noticed an uptick in students telling me "I can't" or "it won't work" or other types of resignation. This helped me move closer to the idea that Power is mostly an agreement between one or more people; like everything, it's relational. I cede my power to you, or we share power with each other, "empowering" us. Perhaps that's the social contract we need to maintain, I don't know. What I do know, after a year of considering it, is that true power comes from within.

Sorry if you were expecting some new insight. I can only confirm that what wise teachers have said for millennia is true: there is no real power except what we each possess innately, and there is a power that exists among and between us too, which I call interdependence (a word from 2016). How we use that power is up to us, and even under duress we have the option of exercising our unique agency. This doesn't have to be reserved for big conflicts among groups, like what happened in Charlottesville last summer. It can also be accessed under boringly mundane situations, like when I was sick last winter and could only function in the most basic, simple ways.

It was in that brief illness that I saw the power of Simplicity, and throughout the year I witnessed many instances of how I often needlessly complicate things, which reduces my power. Feeling overwhelmed by too much to do, too many ideas, hopelessly juggling everything in the hope that somehow everything will work perfectly -- this is neither reasonable nor effective. It weakens my actions and renders my good intentions moot. It makes me feel like giving up. The simplest remedy I know, one I keep rediscovering, is The Pause. Pausing adds a little gap wherein I can drop the extra effort or the added plans and concepts and sense what's immediate and essential. On a larger scale, of course we all need to "live simply so that others may simply live." Yet untangling from the many ways I participate in unjust economies and human interchange systems is not easy. When I can pause, I find freedom in the gap, and can make better decisions about what to participate in, and how.

When I don't remember to pause and give space to present moment reality, I mess up or I miss the mark because my aim is off (a classic definition of "sin"), or I'm just not there as my life unfolds. That's where Forgiveness begins. In researching forgiveness and what it means, I was reminded of the wonderful work of the Greater Good Science Center in Berkeley. Their website is an incredible resource, where I found several helpful articles about forgiveness, like Eight Essentials When Forgiving. GGSC not only provides instructions about mindful practices on myriad topics and issues, but also includes the reasoning behind the practice, the evidence for why it works, and the sources of that evidence. The forgiveness practices are long-term and intensive, because forgiveness isn't easy, and it's a process, not a destination. It's important to remember that forgiveness is for the one extending mercy, not for the one who is being forgiven. Jack Kornfield explains this with a powerfully moving story in this short video, also from the GGSC website.

I was able to forgive a lot this year, and I feel pretty good about that. The good feeling isn't pride or satisfaction with "self-improvement." It just feels good to forgive someone, even myself. Letting myself off the hook, lowering the bar, radically accepting my many flaws and screw-ups allows me to also do this with others. Forgiveness doesn't eliminate the need for accountability or consequence, it just dissolves the weight of whatever burden one has been carrying, and the sticky ties one has to the person one is forgiving. Forgiveness is liberation.

Thus it was a big year full of big changes, consistent practice, and continuous learning. 2018 is shaping up to be even more so, and to navigate whatever it will bring I have again chosen three guiding words:

• Renunciation
• Appreciation
• Faith

What arises for you as you read these words? My next blog post will be an examination of each one, and why I chose them. 

In the meantime, I'll be busy spreading the word about Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction class (starts on January 28!), Alexander Technique lessons, and Qigong practice. I'll use the simple power of forgiveness as I share.

The Light in me honors the Light in you.

It's Like This Now

The thought manifests as the word;
The word manifests as the deed;
The deed develops into habit;
And habit hardens into character.
So watch the thought and its ways with care, and let it spring from love
Born out of concern for all beings.  - The Buddha

On Sunday I returned from a 9-day silent meditation retreat at Insight Meditation Society. I intentionally didn't listen to the news on my drive home, wanting to preserve as much as possible the continuity of awareness and mindful power I'd worked so hard to cultivate. I sensed that something socially or politically significant had occurred while I was off the grid -- these days that's a pretty safe bet --but whatever it was, it could wait until I got home.

When I heard the story of what happened in Charlottesville, my first reaction was to open my heart and send wishes of loving-kindness to all involved. I felt sad and deeply disturbed, and once again wondered what it must be like to view everyone who is different from you with suspicion and hatred, to be so threatened by difference that you feel the need to dominate and destroy. Thus I included the fascists and neo-Nazis in my on-the-spot metta practice, because I had just heard my dharma teacher say multiple times a day, "everything belongs" and "be willing to include."

I wish I could say the story ends there, but it doesn't. That attitude lasted about half an hour, until I heard Trump's remarks about how some "very fine" people had been among the "alt-right" group, and that there was blame on all sides. I heard this person -- whose number one job requirement is to represent and protect all citizens -- defend hatemongers who seek to destroy our democracy, and I watched a slow-burning fury begin to grow in my belly. The anger that arose within me at that point has grown exponentially over the past few days, coming on me in waves that require me to sit right down and feel, breathe, let go. Can I get inside the head of a neo-Nazi? No, thankfully, but I sure know what rage feels like, I know the urge to smash something, to want to see someone punished, and punished cruelly. And when I look intimately at that rage, what I find is fear. Sticky, searing, life-choking fear.

That's why they're called terrorists. They act from fear and incite fear and misery in others.

So Trump won't call them terrorists, but I will, and so will anyone who can tell the difference between love and tyranny.

Still, what are we supposed to do at times like this? How do we speak the truth and hold haters and their apologists accountable, without adding to the violence and terror? How do we work with the rage within and without?

My Buddhist teachers would say, "turn toward it," "allow it to be however it is," even "say yes to it." Wha!?! Say yes to neo-Nazis? Say yes to hate? That just doesn't sound correct, not at first anyway. But what that really means is to accept whatever is, however it is, in the present moment. Then take appropriate action. If something is unacceptable, if harm is being done and you can stop it, by all means please do. But do it skillfully, consciously, humbly. I may not be a terrorist, but I've got the capacity for a whole lot of manic bitterness and violence, and if I don't know this about myself it will manifest somehow. If I can't move in close to my fear and let myself feel it without judgment, it will become the driving force that determines my conduct and my speech. I have learned this through experience.

A recurring meditation instruction from Mark Nunberg is, "Something is being known. It's like this now. Can that be okay?" The "okayness" is not about the object being known, but about the way I'm relating to it. Can I be okay with how afraid I am, how angry I am, how much grief I feel? Yes. I can say yes to these true facts, moment by moment. And the interesting thing I have observed is that turning toward these energies as they arise within me often diminishes them. The powerful urge to kick Christopher Cantwell in the balls or to see Trump humiliated and thrown out of office is not a solid thing; it is an energy that changes, impermanent like everything else. It's unpleasant, and not very peaceful or loving, but I see it. I'm beginning to know its ways, make some space around it so it can't take hold, can't push me around anymore. In this way I create choices, can take effective action, or no action if that is what is called for.

It looks like the violence in Charlottesville is just the beginning; at least, that's what the fascists are promising. So we absolutely must be ready to stand up to this hate, act in love and faithfulness, be willing to make sacrifices, and find a way to unite so that we can make a world where "everything (and everyone) belongs."

It's like this now. Are you willing to include?

On-the-Spot Ways to Not Freak Out

Last week I found myself in a challenging situation that felt like a crisis, in spite of knowing that it wasn't -- at least not yet. My husband, who has a history of heart problems, was experiencing dizziness and other symptoms that might have indicated another heart attack, so a friend took him to a nearby ER. I got a phone call to consult about whether the ER visit was necessary, and I agreed that it was a good idea. During this discussion I was a model of calm concern. I remembered to stay grounded in my body, to breathe, to listen carefully. My dear one was in New York City and I was in Philadelphia, so it made sense to wait for a report from the ER before deciding whether to take any action, like hopping the next train to NYC.


I don't know about you, but waiting patiently is not my strong suit. Having nothing constructive to do feels helpless, and that is not a feeling I enjoy. I did what I had been doing, which is to breathe, send positive healing energy to my husband and those caring for him, and get back to the tasks at hand, hoping to be distracted from the supremely unhelpful running commentary in my mind.

At one point I had the bright idea to post on Facebook: What is your go-to method for letting go of worry when there is zero you can do about a scary situation?
I got a lot of very interesting answers, and many of them are listed below. Some are religious or spiritual, some are body-based, some are more psychological. These are practical, easy things anyone can do under stress, and I thank everyone who replied on my Facebook page.

And hallelujah, it wasn't a heart attack. Just a wakeup call.

Coping Methods (in no particular order):

• Breathe.
• Pray. 
• Once when I was scared for someone, I sat through the fear and wrote them a letter. I never mailed it, but the duration of the focus was a true "Holding in the Light." Now I do that by coloring and drawing too. You could do it with movement.
• A prayer I use is "God is with me now and all is well." Also, say the name Jesus repeatedly.
• Something I've used with some success is the idea that if there is no solution, it is not a problem but rather an event -- like, say, a rainstorm. Problems have solutions that require planning and sometimes can benefit from a bit of timely worry.
• I try to stay very present. Wash hands, feel temperature, etc etc....keep coming back....and of course breathe.
• Going for a run.
• Do an activity you enjoy - reading, crafts, TV, walking, etc.
• Put on a song I love and focus on the music. Breathe with it.
• Placing yourself firmly in the present can help. Rub your toe into the floor to remind yourself where you are. Grasp something small, whatever is close by.
• Say the Serenity prayer.
• I remember I am never alone, whether I simply visualize love and support from my community or reach out like you are doing now.
• 4-7-9 breathing. From Dr. Andrew Weil. Breathe deep to count of 4. Hold to count of 7. Exhale to count of 9.
• Look at the big blue sky. Makes every worry seem small.
• Worrying is praying for what you don't want; it is always better to just pray.
• Herbs that ease anxiety and fear - motherwort, oatstraw, nettle, skullcap.
• Under the circumstances, let the rain wash it away. [It was pouring on this day.]
• Looking at what is the worst case scenario and asking if you can survive it. Thank Mother-Father God for giving you the strength to deal with it.
• Trust my gut to take the next step. I choose to take one step at a time without trying to figure out an ultimate solution. I remember I'm not alone.
• Relax your pelvic floor. You will feel better immediately.

I put my favorite one last. I cannot tell you how often that has made all the difference for me. I know it's not helpful or even necessary for others, but I'm so grateful to my Alexander colleague for reminding me of this.

Next time you feel like you are in a tough situation that is out of your hands and all you can do is wait for more information and then be ready to act -- try one of these methods. Or combine several: Breathe and look at the big blue sky and relax your pelvic floor muscles while you remember that you are not alone. And ask for help on social media; people just love giving advice!

Three Words for 2017

Last year I began the practice of choosing three words to inform and guide my life for 2016. They were Prosperity, Interdependence, and Love. During the year I set the intention to notice how these three concepts showed up in various ways, and looked for ways to deepen my understanding of what they mean and how they operate.

Prosperity was the easiest one to work with, perhaps because it is tangible and not esoteric. I expected to learn about ways that are prosperous, and how that might be different from financial wealth. Things like an increase in public recognition of my work was a sign of prosperity, as was the wonderful, generous outpouring of financial support for my MBSR training fund. (You can still give, until January 15, here: https://www.gofundme.com/AmyMBSR) I prospered in positive feedback, in skill development, in deepening connections with others. I confirmed what I suspected when I chose Prosperity: you don't have to be rich to prosper.

Interdependence was so beautiful to work with. This is the most wonderful reality of life, the way we need one another for our well-being. This is not just healthy psychology or sound philosophy, it is nature. Interdependence describes the foundation of all life. Trees, for example, use an intricate network of roots, spores, etc. to communicate and help other trees thrive, because when one tree thrives, they all do. That is true for all life forms, including humans. So in a year that saw the worst effects of polarization, petty hatred, and an "I got mine" mentality, the need for recognizing interdependence has never been more important or relevant. I sought out, and was blessed to experience, many instances of interdepent life. Everything's connected.

Love? Well, love could be the watchword every year. It's still a mystery to me, and as far as I can tell it is the reason we are here. I think life human life is a course -- a doctoral-level course -- in love. I (re)discovered some qualities of love, such as the fact that when love is present it makes you want to move closer to another person rather than farther away, or it makes it less impossible to do so. When there's love in the equation, courage arises, or compassion, or openness and flexibility. Love makes one stronger, more clear, more willing and able. This is why Michelle Obama encourages us to "go high when they go low." This is why Jesus advises us to love our enemies, because in the act of bringing love into the mix, we ourselves change (not sure what it does for the enemy). And of course there's romantic love, sexual love, spiritual love, friendly love, love for the earth, and so on. Love takes many forms and it's been an eye-opener to recognize love in action.

For 2017 -- a year that arrives full of foreboding and determination in equal measure -- I have chosen three words that hold huge potential for personal growth. Like last year, I'm choosing concepts that are a bit daunting. If I want to experience and cultivate these elements, I will need to make some pretty big changes. Part of my discernment process was to identify the words that scared me the most or made me react by contracting. That's often a sign that I'm at my growing edge. I also wanted to notice which words intrigued me the most, what ideas I was willing to explore thoroughly and consistently through the year. It's no surprise that in each case, I am both curious and afraid. How like life!

My three words for 2017 are (drumroll please):

Simplicity

Power

Forgiveness

I'll be writing more about each as the year unfolds, but for now I will say that I chose Simplicity because I tend to over-complicate things and burden myself unnecessarily, and I want to stop doing that. Simplicity is one of the "Quaker Spices" or shared testimonies of our faith, and in my opinion, the least understood or followed by Quakers. Mostly, though, I want to understand my own lack of trust in the simple way.

Power was sort of a no-brainer. The power grab in the U.S. by neo-Nazi elements, the myth of "people power" in an election run by the corporate oligarchy, the stories I keep hearing about how disempowered people feel, the lack of justice for people of color and women and immigrants -- it's all a swirly mass of fear and craving about who's got the power. So I am super motivated this year to learn about what constitutes true power. Stay tuned, I think we're all apt to learn about this in 2017.

Forgiveness feels a little like Love, in that it is universal and absolutely necessary for a peaceful life. My immediate task is to cultivate forgiveness for myself, even as I seek to learn better how to forgive others. I don't believe in New Year's resolutions but I did renew my vow to recognize when I am being unkind or oppressing myself, and then to stop and extend some compassion my way.

Like signposts along the way, my three words guide and even nudge me towards more fully awakening to life. May 2017 provide you with guidance and encouragement as you too seek awakening.

Giving Thanks

Living is tentative and uneasy for many of us right now, especially in the U.S. Gratitude helps so much. It's like a magic energy that alchemically transforms scarcity into satisfaction, half empty into half full. Luckily, we have a whole day dedicated to giving thanks.

Today I am grateful for:

My passion.  When I resonate with something or someone, I’m all in. I may not always be disciplined or consistent, but I am wholly dedicated to whatever inspires me, and I enjoy bringing my total self to the endeavor or the relationship. I give my all. I show up, and keep showing up. For my ability to turn desire into dedication, I’m thankful.

My family.  I’m lucky to have a husband who keeps loving me and growing in companionship, and two absolutely beautiful daughters who are kind and funny, smart and insightful, emotionally sensitive and socially aware. My father, who at 90 continues to seek understanding and healing, has given me a strong spiritual foundation for life as well as an appreciation for nature and the beauty of this world. My brother taught me how to be strong and resilient, and to trust my intuition. My nieces and nephews astound me with their ability to forgive and to develop unconditional love. They are also super creative and persevering in all they do, which gives me hope for the future. Thank you.

 

My spiritual family.  These are my closest friends, advisors, mentors, and cheerleaders. They listen when I ask, are not afraid to call me on my foolishness and wrong thinking, encourage and pat me on the back, give me gifts and let me give to them in return, and generally help me remember to play and be goofy while I still can. Maybe we’ve known each other since high school, maybe we just met last year, but we connect authentically in the heart space (see #1 above). You know who you are. Thank you.

My gifts.  I am an experienced, talented hands-on healer, an engaging and skilled teacher, and a decent writer and editor. I enjoy connecting people with one another and creating networks of learning and support, and I can organize events with the best of them. I am never happier than when I’m planning a workshop or writing a lesson plan or refining curricula. Nerdy but true. My singing and dancing is mediocre but on a good day I can engage in them with gusto and abandon, which is half the battle. For the gifts I was born with and those I’ve worked hard to develop, I’m thankful.

This life.  I feel so grateful to be drawing breath right now, this very minute. My dharma teacher, Mark Nunberg, tells me that there are only two things to ask when I sit to meditate:  1) Am I interested in what’s here right now? Can I cultivate some curiosity about how it is? 2) Do I care about this life which has been entrusted to me? Can I cultivate some compassion for this being?  For my ability to remain interested and caring, both on and off the cushion, I am thankful.

Wishing you and yours a happy Thanksgiving Day and the ability to feel genuinely, deeply grateful for all the many blessings of this human life. Claim them. They are yours, and no one else can know

them and live them like you can.

Namaste.

Surviving Skillfully

For many years now, I have been learning and teaching that mindfulness is a skill. It is not a state of bliss, or wisdom, or mastery, or even clarity. These states may result from mindful living, but mindfulness itself is a skill set that we apply with intention to meet whatever is, however it is, in the moment.

This is simple, but it's not easy. That is why there are a variety of practices that we can engage in to foster and develop our understanding of the skillful means available to us. A short list might include formal meditation (sitting, standing, walking, lying down), mindful movement (qigong, yoga, Alexander technique, tai chi, aikido, etc.), communication practice (NVC, peer counseling, compassionate listening), and reflective writing and art-making.

In a recent newsletter I discussed the acronym RAIN, and how it guides the process of turning toward our experience in order to be with it mindfully. RAIN is most useful at times when one feels overwhelmed with emotion, or confused, or otherwise thrown off course somehow. (It works beautifully in ordinary moments too, but we don't typically feel the need to navigate those moments as carefully.) To recap, RAIN stands for:

R -- Recognize
A -- Allow
I -- Investigate
N -- Not Personal, Nature

Many teachers have offered this RAIN guide. Tara Brach uses it quite a bit in her teaching, and has several examples of how it can work individually and in relationships. I have used it successfully many times, as a way to utilize the skill of mindfulness that I am cultivating, and I'd like to share an example of how it is of great use to me right now, today.

Perhaps only a few of you know that I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse and, as a young adult, date rape. Even as I type that sentence I am using RAIN.

• I am Recognizing the strong sensations that arise in my body, accompanied by thoughts like, "Don't say that publicly. Find another example!" Feelings of embarrassment, shame, fear, and vulnerability are here. 
• So I Allow them to be present, don't fight, accept to whatever degree I can. It's actually okay to be with those feelings and thoughts, because 
• When I Investigate, I find that I have felt this way many, many times, and essentially these are just insubstantial thoughts, and physical sensations in the body. And they are changing. They have a pulse, a texture, a duration. Like everything else we pay attention to in meditation (breath, sounds, etc.), these strong and mostly unpleasant feelings arise, stay for a while, and then change or disappear. 
• I don't need to get caught in the experience, I can know it as Nature arising. I've just shared an intimately personal truth about myself, which breaks the rules of my conditioning, big time. Of course these thoughts and feelings will arise. It may sound odd, but the truth is, this is not happening to me. But I can be with it as it happens.

Okay, to be honest, I'm still working on that last one. It is difficult to stop identifying with my experience. Yet all the great spiritual teachers remind us that we must. Joseph Goldstein says, "the Buddha summed [everything] up in one essential teaching: Nothing whatsoever is to be clung to as I or Mine. This is not a philosophical statement, it is something for us to practice, to realize, moment to moment. This is the practice of freedom."

As a survivor of sexual abuse, the past several days have been severely challenging. Beginning with the release of the recording of Donald Trump bragging about how he can get away with sexual assault because he is a celebrity, to the onslaught of reactions to it, the jokes and discussion on social media, and culminating in that violent war of words we called a "debate," I have been strongly triggered and retraumatized. Maybe you have been too. Chances are good that about 30% of you reading this are also survivors. The rest of you know someone who is.

And I can live through these upsetting, truly hideous personal reactions because I have a skill set called Mindfulness. I have gathered and used many tools for 30 years or more, picked up along the way in psychotherapy, bodywork, 12-step groups, religious practices, and other sources which have helped me heal and restore wholeness. But daily mindfulness practice is really paying off right now. I don't like being triggered, but it no longer needs to run my life or even be a problem.

An acronym like RAIN is a hook to hang our hats on. It's a go-to process that we can access (dare I say cling to?) in difficult moments. It prevents us from reacting unconsciously and engaging in old harmful habits. Even better, it helps us wake up and see when we're reacting out of our old unconscious habits, and stop. 

----------------------------------

Interestingly, the name of one sexual assault hotline is RAINN, and if you need someone to listen and help you, please call 800.656.HOPE (4673).

Drop By Drop

While I was on retreat earlier this month, I became keenly aware of how change happens. The fact that it is always happening -- that impermanence is the most reliably prevalent thing we can experience -- is not news to me. (I quite often forget that I know it, however.) But I was not so familiar with how major shifts in habitual thinking and being happen. It is typical to become a little disheartened at some point on a long silent retreat, and it's especially easy to feel discouraged in everyday practice. It can seem like nothing much is changing, that the encounter with greed, hatred, and delusion is never-ending. In daily life it can feel like my reactivity is always operating, no matter how deep and calm my meditation is, in spite of my intention to be mindful.

During meditation practice I noticed an image arising over and over again: a drop of water falling on a stone in a river. I understood that awareness was telling me to keep at it, that with each sit or walk, with each breath, I was moving toward liberation. Continuity, discipline, momentum -- bit by bit water wears away the stone. Each drop is as important as every other, each contributes to an eventual change of shape.

The Alexander Technique is like this too. At first, lessons are mostly about recognizing what is actually going on, how one is doing things, what habits of movement and tension are present. Once the habits are known, different choices can be made, exploration can begin, new ways of thinking are cultivated. But of course this doesn't last very long; habit is strong, and perhaps at first it is only possible to take a few steps before the old familiar pattern takes over once again. If we can accept that this is the way of it, we will progress in a steady fashion, which leads to thorough change.

Thus the sage advice to "begin again and again." Each time we choose to perform an action with awareness and ease, not allowing the unconscious habits to dictate our behavior, we carve out new neural pathways, so that the next time our body-mind will recall the open and easy way, and old habits are less likely to interfere. This builds a kind of underpinning that becomes more powerful the more we practice. Sometimes it is then possible to have a big change in a short period of time. It feels like a major shift in consciousness or sensory experience just happens, all at once.

Ayya Medhanandi Bhikkhuni describes how this works, in The Dharma of Snow:

"...we need to be able to feel our humanity, to feel our nature from the inside. Not superficially but from within, where the invisible factors of mindfulness, clarity, faith, energy, concentration, and wisdom can dismantle and dissolve years and years of deluded ways of perception, of relating to life. That’s what this practice brings about, given enough patience and diligence and surrendering to the process. It brings about a spiritual transformation. It’s invisible. We don’t know it right away, but after years we begin to see. We see the changes in each other. We see the changes in ourselves. It’s quite remarkable."

I find this essay deeply encouraging, a true validation of my commitment to daily mindfulness practice. I much prefer complete and lasting change that takes time, over quick changes that disappear like soap bubbles.

So no discouragement, at least not for long. Every time we wake up, we wake up a little more.
Namaste.

Leaping Into Mindfulness, Part One

After the Oscars, Before Super Tuesday

Lately I've been pining for a long retreat at Insight Meditation Society (IMS) or somewhere. I get such amazing results in my practice when I have the time and space to do nothing but meditate and do mindful movement. The 9-day silent retreat works in a powerful way to stabilize my attention and lead me into a depth of awareness that daily meditation cannot. Alas, it will be late April before I can get back here:

So I decided to try something I read about or heard from someone like Tara Brach or Sharon Salzburg or Sylvia Boorstein: a one-day silent meditation retreat at home. I chose Leap Day, February 29, because I figured, what makes more sense than to celebrate getting an "extra" 24 hours of time by practicing nonstop silent contemplation of the present moment?

This can succeed because I'm an empty nester, my husband leaves very early on Mondays to teach in New York and doesn't get home until later in the evening. I can turn off the phones, set an away message on my email, and follow a schedule very similar to the one I follow when I'm at IMS. Of course my meals won't be prepared for me, and there won't be a crew to do my dishes, but I have made meals in advance and will cook and clean mindfully (and there's a work period in the schedule). I've arranged my time in 60- or 45-minute segments, alternating between sitting and walking meditation, with periods for meal prep and eating, housework, mindful movement like outdoor walking and Qigong, and even a nap.

The midmorning sit is with guidance and in the evening I'll listen to a dharma talk. I can do this because there are literally hundreds of recorded meditation sessions and teachings at Dharma Seed, a priceless resource for curious yogis and meditators. I will also mine the 31 video podcasts from last October's Mindfulness Summit, which I have archived. There are so many options, I'm going to download a few to my Kindle and then use that for audio and video delivery. Other than that, no electronics allowed! I'll be going off the grid after the Oscars tonight and won't return until early on Super Tuesday.

I realize that one of the other reasons this is possible is because of my privilege. I have a job with flexible hours, I have a safe home, I have good health, I have the ability to give myself this day of self-care. I am grateful for my secure situation in life, and the first blessing I will recite tomorrow is one of praise and thanksgiving.

At this writing, I have about 6 more hours to speak, use my phone and computer, watch TV (the Oscars are like the Superbowl around here), and live "normally."  After the retreat is over, I'll post Part Two and report back on how it all goes.

Does this sound like something you'd like to try too? What would you need to put into place in order for it to be possible?

Namaste.

Three Words

I have decided to experiment with a way of framing my work and life this year, an approach which has often been suggested to me from sources both personal (people who know me well) and professional (experts who do not). I’ve resisted this advice in the past, feeling like it’s gimmicky or limiting somehow. Over the past few weeks, however, I’ve quietly tried it out and it feels helpful. It is simply this: choose three words for 2016 that will guide and inform everything you do.

One blogger, Chris Brogan, recently caught my attention as the latest to recommend this practice. The idea is that the three words inform decision-making, serve as touchstones during uncertainty or confusion, and challenge me to ask deeper questions about my motivations and assumptions. Chris points out the advantage of choosing three words over several or just one: the power of triangulation. Each of the words (or more accurately, the concepts behind the words) reinforce the other two and are in turn nuanced by them.

Choosing my three words was a wonderfully insightful process. I saw more clearly what I value, what I feel I lack, what I’m good at, what scares me, and what brings me satisfaction. That alone was worth it, and you might consider what three words you would choose, even if you don’t plan on holding yourself to them all year. In considering several options, I intended to strike a balance between small, specific action words (“build”) and large, universal ideas (“compassion”), but I’ve ended up with some mighty big, slightly intimidating words, and that’s okay. My three words feel friendly and demanding in equal measure, and I’m surprised at how easy it has been to turn toward them without effort when I need to.

My three words for 2016 are:

• Prosperity 
• Interdependence 
• Love

Rather fundamental, especially the last one. I will be writing about each of the three in the coming weeks, and about how relating to them or using them as guiding forces plays out in my developing work. For now, here’s some working definitions and a few initial thoughts on each.

Prosperity - a successful, flourishing, or thriving condition. Good fortune, success, profitability, affluence, wealth, ease, plenty.

This makes me quite anxious, and I have my Spiritual Accountability Group to thank for that. They rightly challenged me to take a good hard look at this, and now I’m motivated to end my ambivalence about money and success and seek to understand what it truly means to prosper. It also reflects my desire to address issues of class and privilege more directly this year. Some initial questions that arise include:

• What am I doing to thrive, how does my work help others thrive too?
• How can I more easily recognize “scarcity mentality” and embrace present-moment abundance?
•  What’s wrong with making lots of money?
•  How does money reflect, or not reflect, how I value my work in the world?

Interdependence -   the quality or condition of being interdependent; mutually reliant on one another. [Here’sa cool video about one example of interdependence]

This makes me feel so enormously joyful and grateful and safe. It is my antidote to despair. I have taught that everything is connected for 25 years and I certainly know body-mind unity. Yet it is only recently that I have been able to live in the flow of all that is (not constantly of course), sensing the complexity of how everything I can experience is interwoven and affected by everything else. We’re all in this together. Relevant queries might be:

• How can I trust interdependence and act from that trust?
• How does remembering interdependence help to develop compassion?
• What do I gain from my fierce independence? Does interdependence negate that? How does my individuality fit in?
• How does working with myself or one other person serve the whole of creation?
• How does my work with groups reflect my understanding of interdependence?

Love – There are so many definitions, as we all know. This is a link to some of them.

I suppose this could or should be a guiding word every year. This year, I have reached a point where I need to understand Love in a fresher or deeper way. Like the song Both Sides Now, I really don’t know Love at all. I experience it, I share it, I crave it, I am provoked by it, I have potent memories of it, but honestly? It feels like I am just barely waking up to Love. I have so many questions, it makes me chuckle to think of it. Here’s a few:

• Is Love our default setting?
• Love can manifest any way it wants to. How do I cultivate Love skillfully?
• What is the relationship between power, vulnerability, wellness, and Love?

My three-word framework has already made a difference in my confidence level and my ability to relax into everyday living. Somehow, having these big ideas as reference points assists me in navigating my life. I look forward to learning more as I go and sharing what I discover.

I honor the Light within you. Namaste.

2016: Being Simple, Curious, Loving

     Lordy lord, 2015 has been one hell of a year. The painful stuff was hugely painful and the pleasant stuff was supremely pleasurable. Not a lot of in-betweens. When I was clear, I was totally directed and on point. When I was confused, I was in a fog, just lost and wandering about, hoping for a familiar landmark. I established some personal discipline at a new level for me, which really paid off. A few times I forgot or ignored key facts about living as a human, which really cost a lot. Destiny will bitch-slap me when I pretend the rules don't apply to me. Mostly I worked my ass off this year, on both the outside and the inside (because there's not much difference between them). I just kept showing up, which is all person can do, really. The rest will take care of itself, if I can release the death-grip on my agenda for every single second that unfolds in my life. If I can soften, trust, choose faith, open to my innate freedom.

     In 2016 I desire to keep it simple, get curious about what is real in any given moment, and love myself. I really do want to love myself as I am, as I move through each day. When I consider various challenges for the new year, this is the one that seems the most daunting, the most radical. It goes against everything I was taught or learned or am being conditioned to believe.

     I bow deeply in humble gratitude to all the teachers who came into my life this year, whether you intended to help me learn or not. Thank you in advance if you will keep walking with me in 2016. 

     Thomas Merton wrote, "My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone."

     Not knowing is crucial; my happiness depends on it, in fact. When I move through life thinking I know what to expect, or how things should be versus how they really are, or precisely what the outcome of anything will be, I am miserable. I don't mean the instinctual kind of knowing, like when I can sense something true in my gut. I mean the kind of knowing that closes me off, decides what will happen before it has actually occurred, produces reactions in me that are habitual and stale and often inappropriate to the situation. The kind of knowing that believes the story I tell myself, over and over and over again.

     To say, "I don't know" is a little scary, like liberating things tend to be. To shift the perspective and say, "I sense that this is real and I know what I am doing and where I am going, but the truth is, I don't honestly know." Can I let go into that way of being, that open-hearted warrior stance? In 2016 I plan to test the theory that moving through life in faith is a way to love myself, and that loving myself is an act of faith.

     Namaste, dear ones. All blessings as we turn the page and create another year together.