Cheerful New Year

Shrine Room Ikebana
Shrine Room Ikebana

Last Wednesday the 25th of February was a new moon day. It was also the day that the Samadhi Cushions staff celebrated the lunar New Year. Losar in Tibetan, this is called Shambhala Day in our community and it is how we mark the beginning of New Year.

For some of us, the day included practice of Sakyong Mipham’s Birthday Sadhana – a beautiful contemplation on the preciousness and fragility of this life as well as the meaningfulness of our actions and their effects.

We celebrated the day at Karmê Chöling, the affiliated retreat center nearby. The highlight of the day was a festive lunch offered by the retreat center for staff and visitors. The retreat center was in full splendor with a beautiful shrine, fresh Ikebana, as well as the annual reading of I-Ching. The day was capped with a “Shambhala Ball.” Which included a procession of some of the community leadership. Upon entrance to the ball, each leader was asked a question related to meditation practice – with the rest of the community looking and listening attentively.

The 10 days leading up to the lunar New Year are understood to be fraught with the possibility of the ripening of negative potential – both internally and environmentally. The distressing news on the economy in the last few weeks certainly hasn’t undermined this view. On this day we renew our aspiration to be of benefit to others and to relax the reflexes of self-concern. This seems especially difficult to do in these times, which challenge our presumptions of security and stability. Nevertheless, there is no doubt that somehow exerting ourselves on behalf of others – following the path of the Bodhisattva – is the only way forward both for us and our fellow citizens on earth. To paraphrase the Dalai Lama – if you want to be happy, think of others.

This year is the year of the Earth Ox and is said to signify new beginnings. Endurance, however will be necessary and steadiness is needed. Especially in this year, the choices we make will have a long-term impact. These choices should be good. To the extent that our actions reflect an understanding of underlying realities, they will yield positive results. This is a year to “go with the flow.”

In my experience, the best way to do that is grounded in the practice of meditation. Sitting on our meditation cushions and practicing mindfulness slows us down, allowing for the possibility of recognizing the flow while at the same time realizing that we have the personal strength and flexibility to let go when we need to. Happy and cheerful New Year. The very best of “the flow” to you in the year ahead.

Anywhere But Here

Sweat seems to have broken out on your upper lip, even though the late afternoon temperature is cool. You have a knot in your stomach and a searing pain in your left shoulder with no idea why. The polished wood floor seems to be moving up toward you, and the room, though large, feels small and cramped. You don’t remember the name of the person on your right, even though it seems you’ve been in the room with them forever. In any case, they haven’t moved in so long, you’re beginning to think they’re asleep — or worse. Crazy wild thoughts and emotions surge through your head and as they do, tears well up. Your hosts seemed nice enough at first, but now they appear menacing and militant. You’ve come to the conclusion that your survival depends on not moving or fidgeting at all, and in the back of your head a plan of escape is forming. Based on a simple deception, it will begin with the pretext of a trip to the bathroom and end — with any luck — at your abandoned car in a parking lot at dusk. If the plan works, you should be able to escape without detection.

A recurring dream about being kidnapped by drug lords? A never-ending holiday meal at your in-laws?

No. Welcome to Day Three of your first mindfulness meditation retreat. You have 7 days to go and you are beginning to realize something you didn’t really know before — meditation takes guts. At the same time, a question is beginning to dawn. Either intensive meditation practice is a recipe for insanity, or — and this is even more disturbing — your thoughts are in the habit of strutting around in your head like inmates at a madhouse. Apparently, it is only your frenetic habits and schedule that has kept you unaware of the state of things.

This last question begins to sow a seed of doubt. You had always treated your experience more or less objectively. You are here, your experience is there. Good happens, bad happens. You react accordingly. Day three raises the question: What if things don’t work like that?

Day Three is full of physical pain, mental suffering, and bewilderment — and a hint of terror. Your experience, however, comes directly up against a dawning realization: in the midst of the personal drama – NOTHING IS HAPPENING. You are sitting up straight in a quiet room on a meditation cushion. You can feel your breath going in and out. A gong rings now and then to signal walking meditation, mealtime or bedtime. By most measures, the retreat center feels secure and inviting. Only the sense of quiet, the many hours of sitting still, and the absence of familiar distractions and preoccupations are foreign.

Maybe I’ve exaggerated a bit, but this scenario represents a crucial moment in the life of a meditator. Eventually, the obvious benefits of regular meditation, both mental and physical, may draw you to explore intensive practice. It is in the intensity of retreat that habitual patterns of thinking and feeling are fully exposed. These insights aren’t exclusive to the practice of meditation. Endeavors that intensely engage our body and mind make us to notice how we get in the way of our own aspirations.

The mirror on our experience in a mindfulness retreat, however, reflects not only dysfunctional aspects of our relationship with our experience and ourselves, it also highlights the inspirations behind our never-ending strategies for coping with this confusion. Without familiar distractions and comforts, what we notice is a sense of speed. We are always pushing. Always reaching for a solution, a fix. While clearly helpful, short daily or occasional meditation practice can sometimes suffer from this habit of always attempting to patch over — fix-up — our experience in some way.

On retreat, the push behind these efforts to manage experience is exposed and exhausted. We consider for the first time that we could just be, simply, nakedly — without the promise of a “next thing.”  We find ourselves suspended in space. It is scary, but at the same time, strangely familiar. As we slow down, our senses are sharpened and details reveal themselves. Thoughts buzz, but plainly out of step with the simplicity of experience; they lose their power over us. We notice our reaction to situations, but it is becoming harder to say which came first — our experience or how we feel about it.  We begin to see that our habit of constant movement toward or away from situations and experience doesn’t help. We become inspired to sit still.

Looking at the thought of escape on Day Three inspires a frank conversation with ourselves:

“OK, we get to the car, then what?”

“We ride.”

“Where do we go?”

“Well, for starters a burger would be nice. You need protein.”

“A hamburger?! After all we’ve been through together, all you can think about is a hamburger?!”

“Well, I’m not really into tofu. Anyway, I said for starters.”

“And after the protein?”

“We ride.”

“Where?”

“You need rest. You haven’t been sleeping well. Somewhere where you can rest. You should sleep.”

“Sleep? I’ve been getting plenty of sleep. And all I’ve been doing is sitting here. Where – where do you want to go?”

“Doesn’t matter really. Anywhere.”

“Anywhere?”

“Anywhere but here.”

This last admission makes you sit up on your Zafu cushion with a start. “Anywhere but here?” Something about the tone of the voice. This is how you’ve been talking to yourself? For how long? You become curious, suspicious even. Who are you, really? What are you about? Hamburgers? You readjust your posture and settle onto your meditation cushion, resolving not to move.

Strangely, the pain in your shoulder has vanished. You feel relaxed and good. The colors and shapes in the meditation room have become clear and bright. The timekeeper’s face seems soft and kind, no longer menacing. Outside, a light snow has begun to fall. Through the window, you can see the late afternoon sunlight catching the tops of the branches on bare trees, giving them a pinkish glow. In the distance, a swath of whitish blue sky is visible, the edge of a cloud bank lit by evening sun.

Suddenly, the beauty of it all takes your breath away. Next to you, the head of the unmoving person has begun to nod. You hear the unmistakable sound of a gentle snore. They’re not dead; you think to yourself, they’re just asleep. From the kitchen comes the smell of dinner and your stomach grumbles. You’re hungry. The smell is familiar, miso soup — most likely with tofu. You smile.  For the first time, in a long time, you’re not going anywhere — and it’s fine.

You’re just here.  Welcome.

Editor’s note:

At Samadhi Cushions, we emphasize that meditation should be comfortable. We make and sell meditation cushions and benches with dedication to the idea that the posture of meditation doesn’t have to be torture.  To be honest, our inspiration goes deeper. Yes, we do want you to be comfortable. Yes, please do choose your favorite color so it matches the decor in your meditation space. Yes, please learn the basics of Calm Abiding Meditation in a regular meditation practice at home. This is how most of us begin and a proper beginning is important. At the same time, we understand comfort in its original meaning — to give strength. We make cushions so they will support you at critical moments — like late afternoon on Day Three of your first meditation retreat.

Meditation: Learning to Stay (and Go)

This past Christmas Holiday, I was able to share a moment with my 10 year-old  granddaughter. In the car, during one of many excursions, we enjoyed a song from the 1980’s that I had heard many times and she was hearing maybe for the first time. It has a great beat and simple lyrics which makes it easy to sing along. It also increases the likelihood of the song getting stuck in my head, which it did long after the Holidays had passed.

As Valentine’s Day approached, this song came back to haunt me. On this day devoted to romance and relationship, some of us will be faced with exploring the boundaries of love  with those we care for.  Mixed and missed messages from our partners, friends and family may cause us to doubt the nature and tenure of our relationships and compel us to look for answers to our insecurities.

Experience in meditation can help us navigate the tumultuous waters of relating to loved ones, but it also teaches us that the first relationship we have to cultivate is the one with ourselves. Missing this last point seemed to characterize the lyrics from the song, Should I stay or should I go, from the British rockers – The Clash. The song I enjoyed in such a fresh new way with my granddaughter.


Darling you gotta let me know
Should I stay or should I go?

To be honest, there is something that makes the heart a little lonely in the process of meditation. We admit to ourselves that there are no answers from “others.” There are only our own answers. This is because the questions are our own.

Now I need to address the singer:

You may be looking for answers outside yourself. In meditation, we sit with ourselves and our questions. The question itself points toward its answer. When is the last time you actually sat with yourself? Something about the tone here suggests that its been a while.

If you say that you are mine
I’ll be here ’till the end of time

This request puts your partner in a difficult position. As a meditator, you may have transcended the concept of time, but a promise to be in the relationship until this illusory concept ends may still seem like an overly long commitment — even for your beloved. A meditator will give room for anything to arise in the relationship. As discussed earlier, the future may not include you. This is consistent with your study of impermanence.

Always tease, tease, tease
You’re happy when I’m on my knees

The kneeling posture is traditionally the posture of supplication and respect. It is meant to be pleasing, so there is no reason why your beloved shouldn’t appreciate it. But be sure to kneel on a zabuton mat replacing your zafu with the kneeling bench if you plan to be in this posture for a long time. Clearly, you are no stranger to prayer – which is good – but being teased may be a message from the phenomenal world: lighten up! This light-hearted attitude is the essence of meditation and will serve you well when the final answer comes down. Note: it could also be that your partner is unkind.

One day is fine the next is black
So if you want me off your back


In meditation, we learn to accept the ebb and flow of life and to allow space between ourselves, our loved ones and, well — their backs.

Once again you are pushing a bit. Why are you on your beloved’s back? And if you are, meditation should help you be there in a caring, sensitive way – so they won’t want you off or maybe won’t even realize that you’re there. Seriously, it’s doubtful that honest and direct communication will take place from this position. Hint: you know you’re on your beloved’s back when you don’t bump into each other any more.

If I go there will be trouble
And if I stay it will be double

There is no escape from the troubles of life and relationship. Your song reflects this insight.  At least you are admitting that hanging around might be hard, but how do you know this? From your experience of the past?  In meditation we realize that things are neither as good or as bad as we think they are, and that while we are likely to repeat destructive patterns, the present  moment is always here and always fresh. We are never condemned to repeat the past. Don’t assume the worst. For that matter, there is no reason to assume anything.

This indecision’s bugging me
If you don’t want me set me free
Come on and let me know
Should I cool it or should I blow.


Let’s face it, inviting your beloved to tell you to “blow” isn’t the most romantic thing you ever did. Meditation makes us sensitive to the power of language. Your “edge” expressed here is no doubt beginning to trouble your beloved — serving to undermine your own case, so to speak. Meditation also helps us read signs from the world. Have you wondered why your loved one doesn’t answer you?

Come on and let me know
Should I stay or should I go.

The discipline of meditation should help you to stay, as you may have heard. But what if your partner doesn’t want you to stay? How does meditation address that? The experienced meditator will be able to “sit” with the request to “go” and hear it clearly without overlaying their own confusion. Of course, at some point even the experienced meditator will have to go (if asked to do so).

If that is the case, there is no doubt that this shift, while hard, will be an opportunity for you. The fact of change means we can deepen the only truly lasting relationship we have — the one with ourselves. There is no question that, in the relationship we have with ourselves, we should stay, not go. This is the path of meditation. It takes heart.

Cheerful Valentine’s Day from the Staff at Samadhi Cushions

Facebook

We’ve put a Samadhi Cushions page up on Facebook.  So now if you’re on Facebook during working hours and notice that I’m online, that of course means that I am working diligently.

The slightly more exciting, if less time-wasting, news is that the Lojong Slogan Cards are back in print and back in stock and ready to ship.  So everyone who was missing a reminder to regard all dharmas as dreams, to self-liberate even the antidote, to be a child of illusion, to transform mishaps into the path of bodhi,  to be grateful to everyone, to always maintain a joyful mind, to abandon any hope of fruition, once again you can obtain this wonderful aid for training with slogans in all activities.