No Mud, No Lotus

Sometimes I'm not quite certain where inspiration will come from as I look for my weekly thought and theme for classes. Next week marks the celebration of Diwali, a 5-day celebration of lights in India. It's a big deal and I would love to be there one of these years to see it in full action. So, I began to think about light as I contemplated my weekly theme which led me to think about darkness. It seems that the past several weeks have been rife with tragic events: hurricanes, mass shootings, and deadly fires in the public realm, and a host of other occurrences in my own personal sphere. I kept wondering what my thought of the week would be, but unfortunately, the difficulties that are present are good fodder for spiritual growth and teaching.

As I thought about darkness and light, I recognized that it's the darkness that gives more power to the light. I love to head out on early morning bicycle rides, right at dawn just before the sun peaks over the horizon. Some mornings it's a striking pink and orange, others just a lightening of the sky. But it's when the sun first strikes the local mountains that always takes my breath away...they ignite in an earthy pink and it's the preceding darkness that makes it so powerful.

When we have the contrast, the light seems more effulgent. I once heard a powerful statement that "our hearts break open so the light can get in." The dark times that we experience are a natural part of living and further along this thought inquiry, I remembered the saying popularized by the Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, "No Mud, No Lotus". What this basically means is that the radiant and stunning lotus flower is anchored in pond water which is often muddy, murky, and lacks clarity. Yet, the flower buds, rising up through the muck and mire to blossom on the water's surface into its full beauty, apparently untainted by the muddy waters. Yet, it needs the mud, as it's the mud that provides the soil for the anchor of the flower and gives it nourishment to grow into its full potential. And once the lotus comes to the end of its bloom, it returns to the mud and becomes compost...readying the soil for the next cycle.

So, in a sens, we need the mud even when it feels like the only thing that exists is the mud itself. We can feel covered by it, unable to recognize the inherent and always present beauty that is ready to awaken. And boy, it seems like there's been so much mud of late!

This week has evolved into thinking about our own inner radiance and when things get murky, we turn back into ourselves with practices of loving kindness. And when we connect into our inner light, we recognize that it's the same light that all beings have within them. The mantra, "Om Mani Padme Hum" is related to this week's theme and is often translated as "the jewel inside the heart of the lotus".  This well-known mantra reminds us that lying within our own hearts, within our own lotus is a multi-faceted jewel. When the light shines onto the jewel, it reflects and refracts the light in a way that is unique to us, our individual selves. The same light will manifest in a different way for all beings, but the source in common is the same light. We connect to our inner radiance with this unique gem sitting in the center of who we are. When the conditions are right and we manifest the metaphor of the lotus, we realize that although we may look different, we are inherently connected.

During these dark and muddy times, it's even more powerful for us to connect to each other and to shine light into the darkness of others. In the process, we know that the mud is a reflection of our challenges, but without it, the beauty of the lotus is unable to manifest. So let's tenderly and with tremendous compassion, honor the suffering within ourselves and to all beings. Let's honor the mud for it brings us into the light and beauty of all that we are.

One-Heart

Before I had even heard about the tragic events in Las Vegas this past week, I had planned to talk about the mantra - Lokah Samasta Sukhino Bhavantu as a theme for the upcoming weeks' classes. This Sanskrit mantra is often translated as "May all beings be happy and free" and further to that, "may the merits of my own life and practice contribute to this happiness". So when we step into our own practice and begin to awaken to the energy of our truest selves, it not only benefits us individually but collectively. Just as a stone dropped into a still pond sends out ripples, we have the capacity to raise a collective intention based around happiness and freedom.

Andye Murphy wrote in an article for Gaia, "Recognizing we are all one, we can move into sincerer compassion for ourselves and those around us. According to Insight State, "we cannot achieve true happiness if we cause unhappiness to other living beings, nor can we be free if we deprive others of their freedom." The mantra moves us into the one-heart.

Ironically, this past week on 60-Minutes they were reporting on the refurbishment of the Hubble Telescope and how its aim is to now look so deep into space that they are looking for the origins of the universe and hence, when it began.  The NASA scientist being interviewed was talking about the formation of stars and planets and basically said that our existence is based on the connection that we are all stardust. Yep...top NASA scientist stating that we have all come from the same source. So when we create suffering by focusing on what divides us, this humble reminder begs to differ. We are all connected. The one-heart.

When tragedy strikes, and it seems to be doing so ever more frequently, how do we manage those feelings of grief, anger, and helplessness? Now, more than ever, we need to step fully into the light of our own inner strength and affirm that the direction we want is one of love, hope, tolerance, and compassion. The practice of beginning with our own suffering, offering ourselves loving kindness is vital. When we sense our knees buckling under the heaviness of our times, instead of pointing fingers and looking outside ourselves, we offer ourselves kindness. As we dig into that intention with an authentic dedication, affirming repeatedly that what we wish for ourselves, we wish for all beings everywhere. To be safe. To be free. To be happy. To live with peace and ease.

Sanskrit mantras are old, especially if you recognize that Sanskrit was one of the originating languages on earth and is now "dead". The words of the mantra, Lokah Samasta Sukhino Bhavantu, have been repeated for millennia, billions of times by billions of people. Each and every time those words are spoken, it's as though the intention for happiness and freedom are once again thrown into a universal prayer.  We have been gifted these mantras and they come fully loaded with energy, having been passed through the generations. In my own personal practice, if I repeat the phrase 108 times for 21-days, do the math-that's a strong setting of intention. And if I share that with others in my community and they do the same thing, the energy exponentially expands with the intention of raising the collective affirmation of wanting happiness and freedom for all beings.

Some say there's a tipping point, that if the collective energy grows stronger, we will begin to exit these dark ages (the Kali Yuga). I know that when I feel the deep despair of such tragedy in our world, I trust what I have been taught---to offer myself compassion. To continually build that well and fill it up so it spills out of me as naturally as an exhaling breath. I am reminded to stay focused on building a conscious and compassionate community. And I am reminded that we are all in this life together, coming together in the one-heart.

Seasonal Transition

You can feel it in the air. It's getting cooler (well, almost) and thank goodness! Apparently, the desert has had its hottest summer on record, so we are more than ready to feel the cooler autumnal winds and temperatures. We have just passed the autumnal equinox here in the Northern Hemisphere (the vernal equinox in the Southern) and fall is officially on its way. The equinox happens twice each year where the daylight and darkness hours are the same. In the north, our days will become progressively shorter as we approach the shortest daylight hours of the year at the Winter Solstice. These shifts in season are times of transition which are demonstrated by the inherent cycle of Mother Nature.

As summer turns toward fall, it's a perfect time to reconnect to the rhythm of the earth and get grounded. It's a time where not only do the temperatures begin to drop, but humidity lessens and winds can increase. Trees respond by dropping the last of their sweet summer fruits ending the cycle of production and head into the cycle of dropping what they don't need to enter hibernation--their leaves. And it's not terribly obvious to us here in the desert. We know that fall is here because we no longer have triple-digit temperatures but we don't have changes in the fall foliage as in other parts of the country. So, in some ways, it's easy for us to miss the signals of change. Since we can get almost any fruit or vegetable at any time of the year, we miss the cue that some of them may not be in season locally.  Without drastic shifts in the weather, we keep on doing what we've been doing.

It can get even more confusing living in a seasonal community. Just as the natural cycle is asking us to slow down and turn inward, people begin to return to the desert. Our roads, restaurants, and social calendars will begin to get busier, beckoning us to get out there and participate, another reason to pay attention to balancing out the increase in activity through mindfully making time to turn inward.

My thought this week is more of a seasonal reminder that we have passed the equinox and things are changing in our environment whether we notice it or not. For us in the Northern Hemisphere, we are approaching Halloween and Thanksgiving, times where tradition brings us to eating more root vegetables, squash, and pumpkins with pomegranates and persimmons coming into season. If we eat seasonally, we feel how it's directing us toward the earth so it's a perfect time to begin letting go and dropping our own "leaves". This time of year is perfect for re-balancing our digestion, possibly through cleansing (Ayurvedic cleanses are specifically geared toward this time of year), to slow down and reconnect to our inner sacred time through ritual and meditation.

Yet, perhaps the greatest gift we can give ourselves this time of year is one of softness. Maybe for the next little while, we let go of being on the self-improvement train and practice loving ourselves just as we are...in this moment.

All At Once

The past two weeks have been intense: we were delayed in Australia six hours for our return flight to the States; the morning after we arrived home, my Mom went to the emergency room; a tree fell across my sister's driveway blocking access to her house; a good friend's Mom had passed away; another friend had to put their dog down and finally, I got a notice saying my insurance had been canceled due to a missed payment. WHAT?! It felt like everything was happening all at once, with just enough gathered momentum to create a feeling of overwhelm. I know that if this had happened 25-years ago, I would've gotten through it but been a hot mess in the process. I never knew that when I first stepped onto my yoga mat that it would prepare me for the ups and downs of daily living but it has, and for that I am grateful.

We expect things to happen in life, big and sometimes intense challenges, but when they stack up in short succession it can be enough to push us over the edge. Our practice can support us in finding what we need to do to keep from submerging. It may get rocky, but we don't capsize as easily. And when life is full of challenges, we are often pulled outward into the chaos. We focus on details of events, begin to project into the future and create stories around the unfolding drama. Yet we know that when we become established in our yoga practice, we remember one of the things it has taught us is to go inside, rather than out.

One practice we've been undertaking in classes throughout the week is related to BRFWA-Breathe, Relax, Feel, Watch and Allow. This is a process that supports us in connecting into the experience and turning our awareness inward so we have an opportunity to dissipate any tension that has a tendency to accumulate when an intense situation arises. Here's a simplified explanation of the practice:

Breathe - See if you can connect to what's happening to your breath in the present moment. Are you able to slow it down? Deepen it? Can you breathe in a way that's even and rhythmical, in and out through the nose?

Relax - During intense situations, we often subconsciously prepare ourselves to fight, flight or freeze which primes the sympathetic aspect of our nervous system. We might notice our shoulders, jaw, chest, fists or belly tightening. Can you notice the tension and relax it?

Feel - All of our emotional experiences are filtered through our physical body. If we ignore, tamp down, or turn away from the emotion it simply hangs out in the tissues until it's addressed. The saying "the issues are held in the tissues" applies here. So as the experience is happening, can you notice where in the body you feel it? Can you describe the feeling?

Watch - As we are finding the breath, trying to relax, and noticing where our tension is held, this part of the process asks us to simply watch, without judgment, the experience. Almost as though we are witnessing it from outside of ourselves.

Allow - Once we've tapped into the experience, we allow it to be acknowledged for what it is. Here we accept what's presently happening.

The beauty of this practice is that it gives us a method for dissipating the energy of intense situations. And the tricky part is that we need to practice doing so BEFORE the intense situations happen. And that's one of the reasons we come to the mat...to practice finding equanimity in the midst of challenging moments. Our asana practice encourages us to be in these situations. Imagine you're doing a pose that really challenges you. Can you find your breath? Relax the parts of the body that aren't needed to do the pose? Feel where the sensations are centered inside your body? Watch the experience and let go of judging yourself? Allow a sense of presence and ease as the intensity builds? It's the same for both physical and emotional difficulties but we need to practice the experience on all levels.

It's ineffective to ask someone in the middle of a crisis to "take a deep breath and relax" if they've never done so before that moment. We come to the mat to practice finding ease when things get challenging so that when everything happens all at once, we have a way of getting through and being with it, perhaps even with a smile on our face!

Footprints

This week I asked people what came to mind when I said the word "footprints". The majority of people said, "sand" and others came up with something along the lines of "leaving an impression". My mind immediately goes to the sand image, in particular, the many footprints I've left along Brooke's Beach where we go for our morning sunrise meditation during the retreat at Sanctuary, in Far North Queensland, Australia. We arrive just before the sun rises over the Coral Sea and the beach has been swept by the overnight waves. Sometimes the sand is smooth and, at others, a collection of sea artifacts have washed ashore. But one thing that is missing are footprints, that is, until we are blessed to feel the sand between our toes as we greet the day. Ahhhhh....what a fantastic awakening!

As I thought more about the symbolism of footprints, impermanence, as well as our carbon footprint, came to mind-what are we leaving behind? I love the idea of having stepped onto many beaches around the world, leaving only my footprints and taking away only photographs. These are the places where my feet have kissed the earth and, really, I am the only one to remember these personal contact moments. Our footprints remind us about walking our own path and about the transient nature of our existence. It is said that we leave footprints everyday, so imagine the millions of impressions you've made throughout your life alone! How many of those have been created by following the footprints left by others? How many of them have been created because you left the known path and  stepped into the unknown?

More deeply, this thought began to germinate during the Sanctuary retreat when a group of people were talking about legacy and what they were leaving behind. I didn't hear the entire discussion, but someone replied, what about your "energetic footprint" that you're leaving behind? That stuck. Think of someone who is no longer on this earth that you knew and what it feels like when you think of them. That's an energetic footprint. Did their behavior influence how you behave or point you in a particular direction?

Not all of us can leave a legacy that's concrete, such as our own dedicated library, small fortune, or many children. But what we can generate is a potent impact through how we have lived our lives. What our yoga teaches us is to explore the multiple layers of who we are, moving through our energetic layers known as the Koshas. We begin by moving our physical body, which is the Annamayakosha (also known as the food sheath). From this obvious physical place, like an onion, we delve through layers of the body, to energy, mental/emotional layers, and more deeply into wisdom and bliss. But many of us who step onto the mat, stay connected only to the physical aspect of the practice and can miss out of the profound experiences if we were to dive more deeply.

This past week, we've been using guided imagery to create energy within our own hearts, expand it and share it with others who are suffering. We've also been trying to sense the pulsation of energy in our body once we have established a particular posture. When we know the pose, we can take our attention away from the mechanics and feel the other sensations which are present. We enhance these connections through other practices of meditation, chanting, guided imagery, and surrender.

Everything in the Universe is vibrating at some frequency. Toning, humming, chanting and singing are our natural ways in which we connect into a felt vibration. Hum the letter "M" and feel it resonate in the chambers of your throat, mouth, lips and head. This is another energetic footprint that can easily be experienced and support us in tuning into the present moment, and when we are in the present moment we are connected to the wider grid of energy.

So this week, reflect on what you are creating in your day-to-day experience and notice if it's aligned with the sense of your truest nature. What imprint is your being making in this lifetime? And if you really need to re-calibrate your frequency, try walking in the sand and let the ocean kiss your ankles...that'll work!

Finding Home

This week I asked people what came to mind when I said the word "footprints". The majority of people said, "sand" and others came up with something along the lines of "leaving an impression". My mind immediately goes to the sand image, in particular, the many footprints I've left along Brooke's Beach where we go for our morning sunrise meditation during the retreat at Sanctuary, in Far North Queensland, Australia. We arrive just before the sun rises over the Coral Sea and the beach has been swept by the overnight waves. Sometimes the sand is smooth and, at others, a collection of sea artifacts have washed ashore. But one thing that is missing are footprints, that is, until we are blessed to feel the sand between our toes as we greet the day. Ahhhhh....what a fantastic awakening!

As I thought more about the symbolism of footprints, impermanence, as well as our carbon footprint, came to mind-what are we leaving behind? I love the idea of having stepped onto many beaches around the world, leaving only my footprints and taking away only photographs. These are the places where my feet have kissed the earth and, really, I am the only one to remember these personal contact moments. Our footprints remind us about walking our own path and about the transient nature of our existence. It is said that we leave footprints everyday, so imagine the millions of impressions you've made throughout your life alone! How many of those have been created by following the footprints left by others? How many of them have been created because you left the known path and  stepped into the unknown?

More deeply, this thought began to germinate during the Sanctuary retreat when a group of people were talking about legacy and what they were leaving behind. I didn't hear the entire discussion, but someone replied, what about your "energetic footprint" that you're leaving behind? That stuck. Think of someone who is no longer on this earth that you knew and what it feels like when you think of them. That's an energetic footprint. Did their behavior influence how you behave or point you in a particular direction?

Not all of us can leave a legacy that's concrete, such as our own dedicated library, small fortune, or many children. But what we can generate is a potent impact through how we have lived our lives. What our yoga teaches us is to explore the multiple layers of who we are, moving through our energetic layers known as the Koshas. We begin by moving our physical body, which is the Annamayakosha (also known as the food sheath). From this obvious physical place, like an onion, we delve through layers of the body, to energy, mental/emotional layers, and more deeply into wisdom and bliss. But many of us who step onto the mat, stay connected only to the physical aspect of the practice and can miss out of the profound experiences if we were to dive more deeply.

This past week, we've been using guided imagery to create energy within our own hearts, expand it and share it with others who are suffering. We've also been trying to sense the pulsation of energy in our body once we have established a particular posture. When we know the pose, we can take our attention away from the mechanics and feel the other sensations which are present. We enhance these connections through other practices of meditation, chanting, guided imagery, and surrender.

Everything in the Universe is vibrating at some frequency. Toning, humming, chanting and singing are our natural ways in which we connect into a felt vibration. Hum the letter "M" and feel it resonate in the chambers of your throat, mouth, lips and head. This is another energetic footprint that can easily be experienced and support us in tuning into the present moment, and when we are in the present moment we are connected to the wider grid of energy.

So this week, reflect on what you are creating in your day-to-day experience and notice if it's aligned with the sense of your truest nature. What imprint is your being making in this lifetime? And if you really need to recalibrate your frequency, try walking in the sand and let the ocean kiss your ankles...that'll work!

The New Normal

If you happened to read last week's blog, you might remember that it was around big changes which I called "seismic shifts". At the end of the week, we moved our Mom into an assisted living facility with a Memory Care unit as she has dementia. We knew the move would be a big deal and didn't know how she would respond. The good news is that the transition went as well as we could have hoped and Mom is beginning to find her way in her new digs. She is establishing a "new normal", which is the thought for this week.

What happens after something big occurs? My experience has been that when big shifts happen, there follows a time of settling. Just as earthquakes have aftershocks post major tremors, eventually, the faults settle into a new position, a new normal. Everything in Mom's world is finding its way. A new routine of when to eat with scheduled meal times. New food. New faces. New caregivers and the newness of having her daughter (that would be me) able to stop by frequently to see how she's doing. We haven't lived this close to each other in a very long time.  I moved to Australia when I was a teenager, away from my family and where I grew up in Southern California. I returned 20 years ago to the Bay Area (seven hours away from Mom), then moved to the desert (three hours away) and now...less than 10-minutes from her. This new normal has been an intentional choice and being near her in the twilight of her life is great for both of us.

Finding a new normal requires a certain amount of surrender, and our theme this week is to connect into our own natural rhythms. As Shiva Rea states, "We are born into a universe of currents..." and allowing those currents to act upon our life circumstances rather than resisting the changing tides, supports us in connecting into the rhythm that is particular to each and every one of us. We want to flow between what we need to open up to and what we can let go of, without getting stuck in either place. This seeking of balance is part of being human. Our biology is constantly trying to find homeostasis and reacts to the cues that lie within. When we surrender, we find ourselves in a state of presence to see what truly is rather than what we wish it to be. 

I had a profound experience of surrendering one day when I was on vacation on Maui. I went into the ocean and got absolutely pummelled by a huge wave and undertow. I'm quite a decent swimmer, yet in those few moments of being pulled under I had the fleeting thought, "oh...so this is how I die!" and then, I surrendered to the power of the wave. Some part of me instinctively knew that trying to swim my way out of the tumble would prove useless. So, I didn't resist and instead let myself pop up when the time was right. I staggered out of the water, my bathing suit askew with sand in every possible opening but with a sense of "hey, I didn't die!". It was the letting go to that unexpected and somewhat violent moment that let me feel the beauty of another breath.

I know that many of us have had the experience of clinging to our old normal, particularly when on vacation. We have a few days away in a stunning locale and the day before we leave, we finally relax. It's as though the clinging to our previous normal slows down our ability to find a way to let go into the new "holiday" routine. I find this happens when I travel just after I've had a busy working period trying to "get things done" before heading away. Part of my brain seems incapable of letting go the habit of checking email, ensuring schedules are adhered to, and looking to what's next on the to-do list.

So my intention as I step into this new normal, with my Mom as the other player in the scene, is to truly enjoy the moments of simply being in her company. The practice of presence and the letting go of expectations are things I'm working on to establish this new normal.

Welcome to the desert, Mama!