Have you been “hit on” for Christmas?

     

The morning felt scattered. I was running late and I drove into the church parking lot sliding through the six inches of snow that had fallen over night.  Nothing was plowed yet.  I grumbled.  Grabbing my random things, I slid from my seat to the snowy carpet and slammed the door behind me.  I was rummaging for the keys to the church door when I saw him walking toward me. 

He was a dark figure, tall and thin wearing a black long coat that was ripped under the arm and had no buttons.  He wore a tattered watch cap and canvas sneakers.  He had no gloves and no teeth.  I knew him from a previous encounter.

I thought to myself, “Oh no.  Not now.  I don’t have any small bills to give him.”  I knew it was what he wanted.  I tried to pretend he wasn’t there and walked determinedly toward the steps to the side door.  I heard him call to me in a raspy voice… “Hey… Hey…  lady… wait…”  Was that God calling me?  Not now.

I turned to him and we recognized each other.  I had given him some money earlier in the fall when the weather was warm and I had a few dollars in my side pocket.  It wasn’t a hassle.  Now it’s a hassle.  So I told him I didn’t have any money.  That was a lie.  I had a $20 bill in my wallet, which reminds me of an episode back when my kids were little and I did give away a twenty dollar bill.  That’s another story for another time and it’s now over forty years later. 

I started to walk away from him and darn if my heart didn’t pump out a little bit more love.  And that conscience sitting on the tip of my shoulder said to me… “But it’s Christmas!”  So I stopped and looked at him.  He had a scruffy grey and black beard, and blurry dark eyes that squinted from the wind-driven snow.  He didn’t smile at me and his mouth was now shut so I couldn’t see his missing teeth anymore.  I wondered who he might have been years ago.  He actually reminded me of one of the kings in my Christmas manger set.

“I’ve got some loose change in my car and I’ll give it to you.”  He stood behind me as I unlocked the door and reached over and grabbed for the handful of change.  “Here.” I put the fistful of coins into the palm of his hand and our skin touched.  He was cold and his hands were dry and chapped.  “I don’t know how much this is but you should get a cup of coffee out of it.”  He thanked me walked away with his coat flapping in the wind.

I thought about him off and on that day and reminded God about the time I had given the twenty dollars away all those years ago.  So it’s okay that today I didn't give it away.  Then later that day I stopped at a drive-through for coffee and reached into the car cup for change.  It was gone and I had to use the twenty dollar bill.  I mentioned to the attendant that I had just given all my change away to a homeless guy.  She handed me my coffee and about $18 and said… “Well only God knows what he’ll do with it.”

She was right.

Tonglen; A Meditation Prayer for the Heart of Our Life

   

In my Christian understanding of prayer, I petition my Holy One to care for my family and friends that are in need of inner guidance or health or for the needs of a suffering world.  I petition for myself, perhaps sitting in quiet prayer with the Sacred, my Beloved, to channel wisdom, strength, and understanding of a trying situation.

In my study of Buddhism I learned about another kind of prayer, if you will, called Tonglen.  It is a process of "taking on, and giving out."  It is also called the meditation of "Sending and Taking."

Tonglen is a meditation done in conjunction with our breathing, and in relation to our family, friends and even those with whom we are in conflict, perhaps those we might call our enemies… to all beings, we gather them to our self... into our heart.  

As we breathe out, we imagine that with the exhalation goes all our happiness and all the causes of our happiness, all the good karma that we have, we send out in the form of white light or white smoke.  We send this out to all beings to touch them, so that they might obtain happiness, peace, well being and loving kindness. 

As we breath in, we imagine that all the suffering, the causes of suffering and the bad karma that others are experiencing, are drawn into our hearts in the form of darkness or black smoke. This darkness enters and merges into us, so we imagine the taking on of suffering of other beings.

In the beginning there can be fear and trepidation of doing this form of prayer.  Why should I take on more suffering and pain than I already have?  We begin to "feel" what it is like for other beings to be burdened, to be hungry, sick, or alone.  It is a way of "feeling" the suffering of others, and then "releasing" it.  Of bringing this suffering into our hearts, healing it, and then letting it go.

Remain always mindful of the taking and sending of this process. 

I thought about this meditation and way of prayer after a conversation I had this week with my son, and also with knowing the burdens all my children are carrying these days.  As a parent, I want to lessen my children's suffering and I want to send them joy and peace.  I want this for all children, for all my friends and family.  But to take on their burdens seems an overwhelming task and perhaps even more than I can or want to handle.

In my spiritual direction resources I recently read about a mentor that suggests Tonglen practice as a way of working with the spiritual needs of his clients.  He suggests that we tell the person whom we want to hold in our heart, we will carry half of their burden for them for a short while as a respite for them.  He suggests we ask them to imagine what it would feel like and what it would be for them to have someone carry half their burden.  We can't actually change the burden, but lessen the weight.  Only life will change the burden, only coming events, choices, actions will change what we have to carry and what we can give away.

This is not a practice for all people.  We must individually know ourselves and our limitations.  But if you can imagine taking on even a small portion of a loved one's burden (or any burden) through this process of prayer and meditation, it will begin to expand your heart energy.

Pema Chodron says we can do Tonglen at anytime and for any person in any situation.  She says,  "So on the spot you can do Tonglen for all the people who are just like you, for everyone who wishes to be compassionate but instead is afraid, for everyone who wishes to be brave but instead is a timid. Rather than beating yourself up, use your own stuck-ness as a stepping stone to understanding what people are up against all over the world. Breathe in for all of us and breathe out for all of us. Use what seems like poison as a medicine. Use your personal suffering as the path to compassion for all beings." 

By doing Tonglen Meditation on a regular basis, we will let go of negativity, open the heart center, and develop clear thinking that leads to wise choices.  Tonglen Meditation helps us to deal effectively with difficult people and stressful situations. If more of us replace negativity with compassion and wisdom, we will heal ourselves, each other, and the world. These last words are from a website I would recommend you to use to help you do Tonglen:     http://www.tc.umn.edu/~camer008/meditation.tonglen.html

I am taking in my children's pain and suffering and sending them light, joy, peace, and the knowledge that "nothing is forever…" except my love.

Some of this information was taken online from the Oral Instructions on the Karma Pakshi Practicegiven by Thrangu Rinpoche‚ to the retreatants of Samye-Ling, December 1993.

Can You See Me?

I had the privilege to speak at a friend’s installation this month in Morganville, NY.  It was in a little white church in a perfect little town with a horse farm across the road.  Many people came to celebrate the occasion. 

When it was my turn, I made my way up to the pulpit and as always, I stood a little on tip-toe because I am short in height, just about 5 feet, and I looked out at the congregation and smiled and said,  “Can everyone see me?”  There were smiles back at me and a gentle chuckle from the group.  I continued to share how I knew this pastor and I read a poem from Billy Collins, one of my favorite poets.

Afterwards I sat back down and was very relieved that all went well.  You see, I have some performance anxiety and although I have always been in a public eye, so to speak, I have always preferred to stand back from an audience.  People might think just the opposite of me as they see me in various public arenas, on the pulpit,  the opinion page, and especially now in social media, where I love to share my life experiences and “chat” with friends and family. 

But can “you see me?”  I thought about this comment that got the chuckle and began to hear a deeper question seeking a deeper meaning.  “Can you really see me?”  Do you know who I am?  Do any of us know our sacred stories?  There seems to be fear about sharing what’s at our core self, and yet I think sometimes that is what is most important in “seeing” one another.  It’s when I tell my story that you can begin to really see me. And when you tell your story, I begin to really see you.  I think sometimes that if more of us had this opportunity there wouldn't be so much anxiety, animosity, or misunderstandings.  And perhaps there would not be so many lonely people in the world.

I think about some of the words from the Billy Collins’ poem I read:

This is the best kind of love, I thought,

Without recompense, without gifts,

Or unkind words, without suspicion,

Or silence… 

(Aimless Love, in the book, Nine Horses)

The Tormented Turtle

 

The Tormented Turtle   

For most of my life, my chosen totem has been turtle.  It showed up early in my life and its spirit and presence has traveled with me over the years.  I have turtle symbols all over the house, and as much as other animal spirits have come into my dreams and reality, it is the turtle that has had a constant presence.  Such is the reason for this blog that I share with you today.

On a quiet Sunday afternoon recently, my wife and I sat in the car by the side of a pond in Seneca Park.  She read aloud from a book we are sharing while I watched people walking, feeding the ducks, and sitting quietly fishing. 

As she read I noticed a man at the edge of the pond holding onto a struggling creature that I thought at first was a fish he had caught.  Then I realized he was holding a large turtle by the tail and the turtle was trying to escape his hold.   The more the turtle struggled, the more agitated I became.  I wanted to run over and tell him to let the turtle go.  I watched as a second man brought a plastic bucket with a lid and the turtle was thrown into it.  I was angry but didn't make a move. 

I began to wonder what would happen to the turtle.  Did it know its fate?  Would the man take it home to eat or give it to his children as a pet?  Either way it was a dismal scenario.  I thought about offering them money for the turtle, but what if they wanted more?  If I walked over to the men, my companion, who is an animal activist, would rear up and challenge them to let the turtle go.  I suppose that would not be a bad idea if it weren't for the thought we could be maimed or shot.  People have been killed recently for lesser or no reason, which ironically may be the same for the turtle.

I am feeling guilty for not trying to rescue the turtle.  I spoke to my wise son about this experience and his warm, generous ways suggested that maybe the man had hooked the turtle with his fishing pole and it would have died anyway.  I’m thinking that’s just a kind excuse.  We talked about how many people see aquatic animals as food.  Animals are always being taken by humans for food or the sport of game.  There are tons of “what ifs,” and “maybes.”  Still, I did not act upon my heart’s pain.  I turned away and did nothing.  Now I lament.

Some of the symbolism of the turtle totem is staying grounded, even in moments of disturbances and chaos, emotional strength and understanding, and an affinity to the ancient wisdom of the earth.   The wisdom of the turtle totem teaches us about determination and staying strong despite obstacles or distractions. This animal encourages those who have it as totem to listen deeply to their guidance and trust their path no matter what.

Even as I neglected to act on her behalf, turtle has given me her wisdom to go forth responsibly and to do the right thing the next time I have the opportunity.  She has never let me down.  Thank you to beautiful turtle.

 

Some information in this blog was taken from: http://www.spiritanimal.info/turtle-spirit-animal/

Being in August

This is what I acknowledge:

Looking down,
all manner of things are moving;
the grass moves in the wind,
the tiny ants scurry up, down and around;
the clover moves beneath my fingers and toes.

Looking up,
the clouds move,
the leaves rustle in the trees,
the birds move on the branches,
my eyes move with it all.

Looking in front,
the water in the sprinkler moves,
the flies move about the lavender,
the bees move at the top of the oregano,
my eyelids move in the sunlight.

Looking behind,
I cannot see anything.

Karma, Trayvon, George, and We

I am currently studying various religions for my graduate program at the American Institute of Holistic Theology. In this term I am reading about Buddhism. In Damien Keown’s book, “Buddhism: A Very Short Introduction,” he writes that the “doctrine of karma holds that the circumstances of future rebirths are determined by the moral deeds a person performs in this life.”  (pg.29)

Karma originated in ancient India and was incorporated into many Asian cultures.  Here in the West, the practical understanding of karma is that “what goes around comes around.”

Keown goes on to write:  Not all the consequences of what a person does are experienced in the lifetime in which the deeds are done.  Karma that has been accumulated but not yet experienced is carried forward to the next life, or even many lifetimes ahead.   Certain aspects of a person’s next rebirth are thought of as “karmically” determined.  These include the family into which one is born, one’s social status, physical appearance and of course, one’s character and personality.  What then makes actions good or bad?  From the Buddha’s teaching, it is largely a matter of intention and choice.  (pg 39)

Flash ahead to February 26, 2012, Sanford, Florida; 17 year old Trayvon Martin is visiting family and friends in a Gated Community in the Florida town.  He leaves a convenient market around 7 p.m.   It is raining.  George Zimmerman, 29 years old, lives in the gated community and is part of a neighborhood watch program. He is walking in the rain and believes that Trayvon is a suspicious looking person.  He begins to follow him.  A series of events will lead to the shooting of this 17 year old man and his death.  It will also lead to a life-changing experience for the 29 year old man.  It will lead to a national uproar over the Florida law of “Stand Your Ground” that gives way to defending one’s life up to the point of extermination of the “other” should the one who feels threatened make that assumption (choice).

So here it is; intention and choice.  No one other that those two people were at the scene of the shooting.  No one really knows what happened.  A life was taken and a life was changed.  Whether the change will be a positive or negative aspect to George's life, we will never know.  We will never know how karma will affect Trayon's lives or those of his family and friends.  We will never know if those of us who have experienced this life occurrence will be changed.  How will it affect our karma?  And even if we do not believe in karma, how will we chose to live our lives having seen and witnessed or heard or read about this event?  It happens every day in our world in so many different ways.  The violence is consuming us.

In our Christian tradition we pray, “thy kingdom come.”  And yet, I think not.

 

Breaking the Heart A Little

This is an experience I want to share with you because I think it's a story that needs to be shared.  And isn't that what life is all about...  sharing our stories?

I was on my way to Naples, NY to have a Memorial Day and birthday party with my wife's family.  We were driving her car, which is new to her, because the old '99 Camery had too costly a job to make it worth the while to fix it.  It had served her well, 170,000 + miles!  It's true what they say about the Camery's that just keep going.  And this newer version, a 2007 year model seemed to be a car we could trust, except for one thing.  It's security system was extremely touchy.  It would lock itself and arm the car randomly. Then when we'd get in or out of it, the alarm would go off.  This didn't seem a big problem until that Sunday.

We needed gas, so we drove into the station at the Victor, NY exit.  I was driving and pulled up to the pump and Peg got out of her side and went in to give the attendant the money before she filled the car up with gas.  A car drove into the station and pulled in front of me to that pump.  A rather handsome guy got out to get gas.  I noticed this, because he seemed dressed professionally.  He went into the office.  As he walked by, our car  armed itself.  I heard it lock but didn't think anything of it.

Time was passing by and Peg had not come out of the office.  She was talking to the man who had gone in after her.  This kind of annoyed me as we were running late and we were due at a certain time for dinner.  They finally both came out.  Peg pumped gas, opened the door and our alarm went off... honk, honk, honk... etc.  The guy in front pumped and drove away. 

I asked her if she knew the man she was talking to.  She said no.  He came into the office and was very annoyed that when he walked passed our car, I hit the locks.  You see, he was African American.  I was morified!  Damn this car!  I felt embarrased and even angry that he would think that about me.  But then Peg and I talked more about the incident.

I am a white woman.  I was sitting alone in the car.  I am over 60 years old.  And yes... Ego says...  you are a good woman and would never do such a disrespectful thing.  That is MY experience.  But what is HIS experience?  Could it be that he has white women moving away when he enters an elevator, or stands in a bank line, or who lock their car doors when he gets too close? 

My first question to Peg was "Did you defend me?"  Well... no she did not defend me.  She explained to the man how our car was having security system issues, which may have seemed lame to him until our horn started blarring.  But twice she said to him... "You are absoluting right about this!" 

Yes, it was wrong to lock the car door at the moment he walked by, even if I wasn't the one who initiated the lock.

Learning To Love Like They Do In Heaven

 

I’ve been thinking lately about love and how I love others and how they love me.  I’ve been thinking about the restrictions I put on love, who I can love and who I sort of can love and maybe who I should not love, although the latter seems to rub against the grain of my religious teachings.  Perhaps the mystery is how much I can love someone or just exactly how I show my love for another, or out of fear, why I don’t show my love at all.

A recent article about Pope Francis kissing the feet of young women prisoners is an example of how they must love one another in heaven… with no restriction.

I think about when I have loved someone so very dearly here on earth, and they pass to the next journey, they are immediately with those whom they have loved before me.  And I find other people to love, perhaps even as much as I loved them.  What, then, will our love for one another be like when we all gather together in the same “other” place?  Is there enough room in my heart for it all? Someone once said that when we “cross-over” we take with us all the love everyone ever had for us, even those we might never have known or loved.

Jesus had a special way to love people.  And it didn’t matter whether they were men or women or young or old, or sick or healthy, or whatever the difference might have been.  So then we, too, are called to this “Christ-way-to-love.”  Scripture sort of says it is in loving God first that we learn to love others, and ultimately to love ourselves.

This kind of love is how I love my spouse and all my children, my parents, the parents I never knew, the brother and sister I never met.  The love I had for my first best friend or the neighbor who played jacks on the front porch with me when I was a child.  The love of my art teacher who told me never to be afraid to share my feelings, and my grandmother who loved me just because she knew I needed it.  Do we start this love here and now and then fully and fearlessly become that love in heaven?

Whatever this love is, and however we learn to share it with one another, I want it to be a part of my life right now, on this earth, at this moment.  I want to love you like they love one another in heaven… now, so when I get there I’ll know exactly how they do it.

The Presence of Healing

Recently my spouse took so sick from the winter virus that has plagued so many of us this year we needed to call an ambulance and have her taken to the hospital.  Once there she was stabilized and I sat at the end of the bed while the attendants poked, prodded, pinched and squeezed the body into the direction of healing.  I soon realized that another kind of healing was coming in the presence of the  person sitting at the side of the one who is ill—the presence of healing.

I was, however, aware that I too was becoming sick.  I didn’t want to alarm my spouse so I quietly excused myself and returned home for what I thought would be a short while to pick up clean clothes and check to see all was well at the house.  But the virus was a mean and insidious creature that soon took me down with chills, aches and pains, toying with my mind and balance.  I was not going to make it back to the hospital. 

I lay on the couch wondering what to do.  The weight of my responsibility as a caretaker who should be at the bedside of the one she loved was almost as bad as the virus that had overcome me.  What to do?  What I needed most was to sleep and what I wanted most was to be at the hospital.  But I had no choice in the matter so I called a dear friend and asked if she would be my proxy and sit by the side of our beloved one.  She said yes, and I then fell soundly asleep until the next day.

The specifics of the events that followed are not as pertinent as the simple act of someone being present to another.  Not only did this presence begin to heal the one in the hospital bed but it began to heal the one who was also at home with illness.  There are scores of examples where the mere presence of another loving person has become a healing or calming factor in an otherwise chaotic scenario. I think of  Job and his friends who sat with him during his crisis; of  Mary and Elizabeth who found comfort in each other’s presence as they faced an unknown future; of soldiers huddled together in a trench seeking strength from one another’s presence, perhaps even calming an uncontrollable fear.  The list goes on.  Maybe you have your own experience of presence.

This week I walked the sacred labyrinth with other women from my church.  The walk is always a sacred step but this night, as I watched the faces of the ones I have come to know and love, I was particularly filled with peace in my heart by the holy presence that each woman had for one another as they walked quietly through the paths.  And I was especially taken by the light on the face of my beloved, now healed from her illness, walking rhythmically to the sound of the harp playing, the soft sounds of fabric, the gentle breathing, simple healing presence that another brings to the moment.

                                        the Labyrinth at Asbury First United Methodist Church, Rochester, NY

The Snow Is Snowing

 

The snow is snowing, which it’s supposed to do in February here in Western NY.  It is a kind of lovely snowfall, full and white flakes determined to cover the ground and the trees, the bushes, sidewalks and rooftops.  If you venture to go for a walk, it will gladly cover you, too.

There is a Zen saying I recently read:  "The snow falls, each flake in its appropriate place."

As I went searching for the originator of that statement, I came across the following from a blog site by Jane Goodwin:  http://www.janegoodwin.net

These were a few favorite statements I liked about snow:

We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand … and melting like a snowflake.  Let us use it before it is too late. — Marie Beynon Ray

Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories. –From the movie An Affair to Remember

Silently, like thoughts that come and go, the snowflakes fall, each one a gem. — William Hamilton Gibson

The snow doesn’t give a soft white damn who it touches.   e e cummings

As the snow continues to fall outside my window today, there is a kind of melancholia that overcomes me.  Perhaps it’s memories of days gone by when I could actually “play” in the snow, full-snow-suited-up and not worrying one bit about frostbite.  Perhaps it is remembering that snow-shoeing trek I took a few years back with Pack, Paddle & Ski up in the Candice Hills and realized that it’s far easier to be at the end of the line of “walkers” than at the beginning.  Although I must say that being at the beginning of the line allows for one to view the forest untouched, blanketed white and shimmering with a kind of magical glow.  And you are the only one whose foot will touch the top of that white crest for that one moment in time.

As I bring my thoughts back into the “now”, and simply watch the snow fall, the melancholia drifts away.  The author who wrote “The snow falls, each flake in its appropriate place,” took the time to be in the “now” of that moment, not past, not future, and saw how the snowflakes fell one on one in their appropriate places.  All in all, it is only this moment in time that gives the greatest meaning to my life. 

O God, you are my God,

Earnestly I seek you;

My Soul thirsts for you,

My body longs for you,

In a dry and weary land

Where there is no water.

Psalm 63

 

How often I read or hear, “Where is God?” or “I am seeking God?”  It reminds me of when I am looking for the lost eyeglasses that are on the top of my head.  Why is it I can’t just feel the glasses on my head?  What made me put them there in the first place rather than down on the desk or table where I could then find them more easily when I need them?

 

One thing that comes to my mind is preoccupation.  How is it I get so tied up with my work or chores or whatever I might be worrying about at the moment that the preoccupation over shadows the most meaningful spaces of my time?  And why do I keep those resources or saving-graces so out of reach so that when I really need them, they are not there for my fortitude?

 

Ultimately, I believe I cannot be separated from God.  My Soul, my Spirit, the Light, the Energy, the essence of all things in and outside of me IS God, (aka: pantheism). Does that make me God?  Perhaps in some ways it does, in that it recognizes the God within.  But the human element called Ego, has the darnedest time letting go of materialism, control, attachment, worry, you get the idea. 

 

Until I can embrace the Divine within, I will always be looking for those glasses that are on top of my head. 

 

The Un-Mindfulness of Doing

The Un-Mindfulness of Doing

There is no where I have gone today that someone is not talking on their phone, using their iPad, texting while walking, driving or sitting on a bench; walking toward me on the sidewalk speaking to the Blue-Tooth on their ear or listening to sounds on a headset that is connected to something other than a human person.

There is a kind of awkwardness sitting alone in a café, having a cup of coffee waiting for your meal and not reading, texting, watching a nearby television or talking to someone.  You are there by yourself, with yourself and there is no external entertainment.  I will often take my pen and jot words on my paper napkin-- the start of a poem or essay-- a reminder of something I will do later in the day. This seems to fill the emptyness.  And yet "always doing" is extremely "unmindful."  When I sit quietly with my cup of coffee and become aware of this short-lived awkwardness, then I become centered.  I have learned to just sit and be quiet.  It's not always easy to be mindful in an unmindful world with such an enormous amount of distractions.  But mindful quietness is a gracious discipline that brings me peace of mind and closer to God.

 

I have recently read some poems of the Hindu mystic, Nanak.  As one of the great teachers for the Sikh community, he placed a great amount of emphasis on the need to wait for divine truth, to be silent before it.  His poems breathe a deep tranquility and he speaks of the value of pondering and listening;  “Those who hear, flower forever;  From listening, sin and sorrow disappear…”  He preferred to withdraw from the world rather than engage it.  He is said to have spent a great amount of his lifetime in silence, inactivity and somnolence.   It is also said that when he died, his body turned to vapor and two piles of flowers remained in its place. (1)

Here is part of a poem by Nanak that especially speaks to me:

If the True Guru is gracious

Trust becomes complete.

If the True Guru is gracious

No one ever wastes away.

If the True Guru is gracious

Trouble is a thing unknown.

If the True Guru is gracious

One is painted with God’s hue.

If the True Guru is gracious

How could there be fear of death?

If the True Guru is gracious

One is given instant joy.

If the True Guru is gracious

One finds life’s nine great jewels.

If the True Guru is gracious

One mingles with the Truth.

 

Nights, seasons, dates, times

Air, water, fire, hell:

In the midst of this is the earth,

A place to rest from travel and practice religion,

And in it there are manifold lives—

Names without number, names without end—

They act.  And when they act, notice is taken

By Someone who is true, whose court rules true,

Whose council of just ones radiates light

As the Vigilant One sets his mark on our deeds.

Well done or ill done—the verdict is found.

So says Nanak in chant and song.

 

(1)    Comments and poems taken from “Songs of the Saints of India,” Hawley and Juergensmeyer