Dear Reader, I offer here a George Harrison meditation. Before we embrace (or struggle with) the meditation practice we might take for granted, or if we are just beginning to consider a contemplative discipline, let’s look to someone who made our predicament possible…
Our meditation begins on a recent hazy Saturday morning. In a t-shirt, shorts and a baseball cap, my neighbor Paul was tinkering with the speedboat in his front yard. As I headed out my driveway for a run, Paul looked up and waved. On weekends from Boston, Paul and his wife visit their summer camp here near Harvey’s Lake in Northern Vermont. Not anxious to begin my efforts (it had been a while), I walked across the narrow road separating our houses to say hello. Continue reading “George Harrison Meditation”
You might wonder what Earth Day is all about. If I may ask: is our planet earth “a thing” we can celebrate? If “our” earth got lost and we had to track it down in another galaxy, how would we know we had found it?
Perhaps you would need to visit your old neighborhood to see if your house or apartment was still there. But your neighborhood is something that sits on the earth, right?
“Even by meeting someone’s eyes, we let go of where we are holding back.”
— Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche
Metta (or Maitri)
Metta, from the Pali language of ancient India, is associated with a short Sutra in which the Buddha extols the virtues of kindness. Typically, the word Metta (Maitri in Sanskrit) translates as “Loving-Kindness” or “Friendliness”.
The Buddha’s message of kindness does not point to a moral obligation or address a fundamental fault—quite the opposite. Rather it is a question of what is natural on the journey to enlightenment. In the Buddhist tradition, it is by practicing kindness that we create the conditions for waking up to our inherent goodness and compassion.
This past Christmas Holiday, I was able to share a moment with my granddaughter who was staying over. In the car, during one of many excursions, we enjoyed a song from the 1980’s that I had heard many times but was new to her. It has a great beat and simple lyrics which makes it easy to sing along. The song stayed in my head 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 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.
“Here is the moon of great bliss and skillful means. And here is the sun of wisdom and shunyata.”
Chögyam Trungpa, Rinpoche from The Sadhana of Mahamudra
For millennia, Asian countries and cultures have celebrated the Lunar New Year. Depending upon the country, this new moon holiday will fall within two months after the Winter Solstice. In the Shambhala community (we follow the Tibetan tradition of Losar or “New Year”) the first day of the new Fire Bird year is Monday, February 27th. Shambhala Centers worldwide will celebrate this day. Everyone is welcome.
Greek civilization used a lunar calendar. Thanks to the Roman Emperor Julius Caesar, since 46 B.C.E. we’ve been using a calendar aligned with the earth’s orbit around the sun. This calendar was refined in the Middle Ages by Pope Gregory, which is why our current calendar is called Gregorian.
How to start meditating? Different traditions answer that question differently. In Buddhist mindfulness, you start by focusing your attention on the breath. The Buddha himself gave instruction on this breath meditation in the Anapanasatti Sutra.
According to this Sutra, or discourse by the Buddha, there are steps along the path of mindfulness. The way to begin, however, is to be aware of the breath−or more precisely−the sensation of the body breathing. Meditation Practice could start in many ways, but we are already in the habit of relating to our body (and happily, we are breathing). So the breath is a natural and familiar focus for gathering the mind.
In the sutra, even before the Buddha gives instructions on how to meditate, he gives advice on preparing to practice. In other words, even when we’re doing meditation at home, there is a way to begin.
I sit on a few nonprofit boards. The continuing decline in stock markets has left these institutions possibly imperiled. At the beginning of the week, on Monday, I had a mole removed. An hour drive through blowing snow to a visit with the dermatologist scheduled two months earlier. During the drive, a cell phone call from a patron to invite me to assume temporary Board Chair responsibilities for a struggling arts organization. More time will be needed. Outcomes uncertain. The phone call makes me remember long-scheduled commitments to teach meditation looming ahead on my schedule. I had yet to prepare for these.
In the examination room, stripped down to my underwear and socks. The doctor asked me if I thought meditation could be “healing.”
Here it is, my big chance to influence Western Medicine. “Yes,” I answered, intoning with talk of body, mind, and breath. Key, I added, was intellectual understanding or “view” for successful meditation practice. All of this while the doctor scanned my exposed skin with what looked like a fancy magnifying glass. Somewhere in the middle of my pitch, I lost him. Running behind schedule with his patients. Limited time for chitchat, I guess.
He stopped his scanning at a mole on my back.
“Whoa. OK, this one’s gotta go.”
“Oh, really. When should we do this?” I asked, imagining a time down the road when the thought of this procedure would fit in comfortably with all of the worries pressing in on my schedule.
“If it’s OK with you – Now.”
I sputtered something about my immediate plans for the day and then came up with the real question – “Will it hurt?”
“Just a pinch.”
Some more reassurances and a needle prick later there was casual talk about the doctor’s upcoming trip to San Francisco, future emails and phone calls with “results”. Eavesdropping, I thought he was speaking to the nurse until it dawned on me that he was talking to me — referring to the erstwhile piece of me that needed to be tested for cancer. Six days later and a few fitful nights and anxious dreams, the still sore, quarter-sized crater in my back is looking like it just might heal and I haven’t heard anything from the good doctor.
“You are so lazy!” my wife, Jeanine exclaims in exasperation on Saturday – referring to a paper shopping bag emptied of its contents but left to languish for an hour on the floor of the kitchen. I couldn’t disagree. Heightened anxiety distracts me. If left to fester, immobilization is the result. OK, so call this existential crisis “laziness”. I didn’t have the energy to split hairs. In any event, to be sure, more than my usual share of household ineffectiveness had characterized the past week.
During this week my customary morning meditation practice has also faltered. Sure, meditation practice is healing. But probably not if you don’t do it. Last night having exhausted all distractions, I finally talked myself onto the Zafu and Zabuton in our meditation room. While sitting and paying attention to my breath, I faced my anxiety. A jumble of thoughts and emotions pressed on my mind and future. Behind all of them lingered a heightened sense of mortality. My practice was pinching.
Slowly, coming back to mindfulness of my breath, I stopped fighting. The anxiety relaxed into a sense of sadness and loneliness. Was my suffering brave, a profound and timely confrontation with impermanence? Or was it the worry-prone machinations of a comfort-obsessed coward? No way to know. Sitting on my meditation cushion, late on Saturday night, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The sad lonely feeling was a relief. My mind was settling. A week of dithering about, trying to postpone this meeting with myself, was over.
Saturday night I slept well. Sunday morning, for the first time all week, my physician-mind woke me up with a prescription for “healing” meditation.
“Oh really,” my anxious-mind replied. “When would you like to do this?”
“If it’s OK with you”, my physician-mind replied, “Now.”
Editor’s Note: In diagnosing suffering, its cause and remedy, the person known as the Buddha is sometimes called “The Great Physician.” For inspired and thoughtful texts on healing meditation see Tulku Thondup’s Healing Power of Mind and Boundless Healing. For the tradition’s take on what the “physician-mind” might look like, see the Medicine or Healing Buddha.
We might think of community as something external to our life, something extra. We have our car, our home, our job, and then we have our neighbors, our coworkers: our community. But community is not just the people who live next door or who work in the same office, it is also the people who pave our roads, who work at the power plant, who grow the lettuce we eat and truck it to the store. Community is every connection we have with the world around us that sustains our way of life.