Author: bondjanet

WHO AM I?

There were at least three people sharing a pool lane with me this morning. All having a lot to say. Making waves on the otherwise glass-calm water. The pool was empty. The personalities disturbing the peace of an aquamarine morning were all in my head. So many conversations going on. Such a great way to spoil an exceptionally clear and warm morning. Finally, floating on my back and staring up at the cloudless expanse of robin’s-egg-blue, I was able to witness this inner bickering with just enough equanimity to temporarily drown out the noise by repeating the Divine Light mantra that I learned at Yasodhara Ashram in the late 1980s:

“I am created by Divine Light. I am sustained by Divine Light. I am protected by Divine Light. I am surrounded by Divine Light. I am ever growing into Divine Light.”

Later, as I reflected on the dissonance between the restless activity of my mind and that infinity of blue sky, an excerpt from Swami Radhananda’s Living the Practice came to mind. In her chapter titled “A Skylike Mind” she writes:

“We spend so much time identifying with the busy mind, the monkey mind, the restless mind, all the names we label it with. We focus on the limitations, rather than the potential. We try to control it, overcome the negative tendencies, but what if we let the Light in? What if we recognized our minds as Light?”

Simply put, we identify all too often with one or two facets of our psyche, call them personality aspects or egos that run the show. When we feel threatened or vulnerable, our reasoning faculties can get hijacked by the reptilian brain that psychologist Dan Siegel explains with the analogy of a two-storey home:

“The downstairs brain, often referred to as the reptilian or primitive brain, contains the brain stem, limbic region and the amygdala. This instinctive part of the brain is well developed from birth and is responsible for basic physical functioning, along with the innate threat responses of fight, flight, freeze, or [appease].”

This downstairs brain is also responsible for producing strong emotions like fear and anger that can, if the upstairs brain is insufficiently developed, completely override the rational, thinking capacities and cripple one’s ability to make sound decisions, control their behaviour or show empathy.

Seigel’s analogy continues with: “the upstairs brain can be imagined as a light filled, airy, second storey study, library or bedroom filled with windows and sky lights, enabling us to see the world more clearly.”

Siegel describes the exchange of information between downstairs and upstairs levels of the brain as a staircase. When working well, the staircase enables us to consider the emotional and physical messages coming from the downstairs brain and use the thinking and analysing upstairs brain to determine a course of action. Unfortunately, much of what we witness in society today is illustrative of a failure to ascend that staircase. A failure, on a very fundamental level, to control our self-serving agendas or kneejerk defenses. In Untethered Soul Michael Singer calls this impulsive, immature aspect our “inner maniac”.

Swami Radhananda has this to offer:

“When the Light lights up your mind, first you may have to address what it reveals – all the fears hidden in the dark, the issues left unaddressed – and clean up the clutter. And with the space that emerges, you may then experience a different kind of fear, what you could call a holy fear, a fear of the unknown, luminous mind.

“To face the awesome part of ourselves is a difficult thing to do. We live in a mundane reality, and to go from the mundane to the unexplainable is a huge step for the mind. You will find that you are asking new questions, such as: Who am I? What is my responsibility, knowing that this luminous place is possible?”

I do know that this luminous place is possible. I know its my responsibility to ascend that staircase each and every day. And I know when I’m nowhere near being in that second-storey brain. In the pool this morning I could honestly say I was out of my right mind. Even to register this is a major victory.

Using the tools of journaling, breathwork, mantra chanting and/or Light Invocations, I am steered intuitively to the messages I need, which is to firmly step away from the inner conversations, as I did by switching to the Light mantra in the pool. More often than not, these conversations are just the residue of hidden fears and unfinished emotional business, the product of convoluted logic, or no logic at all. That cleaning up this clutter can be a colossal struggle only shows how far I yet have to go to achieving Swami Radhananda’s skylike mind:

“This is what yoga is all about – building awareness of the Light and building the courage to live life. “I am not the body. I am not the mind. I am Light eternal.” Make the space available – have a skylike mind that holds the Light.”

Aum Namah Sivayah

Here are two links that might serve for future use in the struggle with your inner maniac: https://youtu.be/TaqQlW-3yDg?si=fHhNhRuAc3rDJPw1

and https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Divine_Light_Invocation/RQ088-vIVhQC?hl=en&gbpv=1&printsec=frontcover

PEOPLE POWER

BLOG 41

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed, citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.” (Margaret Mead)

Last Thursday I spent a fulfilling couple of hours preparing Easter baskets for foster children and other underprivileged youngsters. I stumble on the word ‘underprivileged’ because it suggests that a certain segment of society decides what constitutes a ‘privileged’ lifestyle. I’d almost prefer to use the word ‘under-served’ because that suggests society in general owes all of our youngsters an equal opportunity to grow into their full potential.

As naïve as that notion may be, it never hurts to work towards it, which is what happened with regards to the Easter baskets. It was a kind of reverse “loaves and fishes” parable: rather than the story of how a very few baskets circulated at an ancient gathering miraculously provided food for the multitudes, our group of a dozen or so people started with ten empty baskets and ultimately filled twenty-eight of them to the brim with everything from toothpaste and brushes to coloring books and stickers and stuffed animals, colorful eggs and candy kisses. And whatever else I’ve forgotten to mention but which I know will bring delight to many a young child.

My word of the year has been ‘trust’, and this exercise reinforced that quality or ideal in spades. When I signed on to the Easter basket project I envisioned going to Target or Walmart and loading up on such goodies as I imagined a four-to-six year old child might need or want. But, distracted by hosting several of our “nearest and dearest”, I had done absolutely nothing when the appointed day arrived. I found myself debating even going to the gathering, feeling embarrassed to be arriving empty-handed. But I went anyway, trusting that there was yet some way to make a meaningful contribution. As if to affirm this, when I arrived I saw that the work tables and surrounding “floor space” on the grassy field were groaning with bags upon bags of thoughtful, useful and whimsical items. Including, of course, candies galore. And oodles of craft materials to turn ordinary baskets into enchanting works of art.

All that was needed were ‘bodies’ to do decorate the baskets and distribute the goodies among them. I could do that! I might even eat the odd candy…

Needless to say, I’m glad I went, if only to witness the incredible generosity of this “small group of thoughtful and committed citizens”. But there was more to be learned than just trusting it would all work out in the end. While our two dozen plus Easter baskets won’t make a big dent in the glaring needs of the greater community, I realized that it wasn’t up to me to solve all the world’s problems. It was more a case of building “Rome” one small act of kindness at a time. And it led to the discovery of a very positive movement about which I had no prior knowledge.

While looking up the exact wording of Margaret Mead’s quote, I landed on a site called WorldChanging:

“WorldChanging.com works from a simple premise: that the tools, models and ideas for building a better future lie all around us. That plenty of people are working on tools for change, but the fields in which they work remain unconnected. That the motive, means and opportunity for profound positive change are already present. That another world is not just possible, it’s here. We only need to put the pieces together.”

This seemed congruent with what happened in our Easter basket gathering. In our small way we put the pieces together from the various and assorted offerings that each in our own way brought to the table. I credit a long line of community-minded people who work, in the spirit of Aloha and Ohana, to make life better for the under-served population of Hawaïi Island. I felt I was contributing in small measure to this powerful force that is gathering momentum even as its opposite, the forces of resistance and reactivity are taking the spotlight away from positive change. Doesn’t mean it’s not happening. As the WorldChanging quote goes: “another world is not just possible, it’s here.”

Aum Namah Sivayah

PS I only ate a small snickers bar. My inner child was delighted!

BACK TO THE GARDEN

“Let us be grateful to people who make us happy. They are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.” (Marcel Proust)

The problem with reading “Daily Om” before blogging is the feeling that there’s nothing more to be said. They’ve said it all, and better. You might think so too, should you choose to look it up. As I write this, the day’s installment is about ‘worth’. It’s tempting to copy it verabim, just so you’d get the benefit of it. but I didn’t and I won’t, lest I just rehash a good essay in my own way.

Thankfully, I then received a gift from a “gardener who made my soul blossom”, and set my mind on a different trajectory. She is one of a trio of people (who also have their own behind-the-scenes people) who combine into a force for good that I can always refer to when I encounter something that makes my soul wither.

For example, I woke with lyrics from the Beatles tune “Hey Jude” in my head that probably came from a conversation I’d had about “weltschmerz” (world pain) the previous evening. “Hey Jude” alludes to that kind of disillusioned sadness:

“And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain,
Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders.
For well you know that it’s a fool who plays it cool
By making his world a little colder…”

Though I had to look up the exact words, the message was clear, “Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders.”

I picture the triathletes I sometimes encounter on the sea wall, faces grimly set with physical effort, while somehow trying to convey the impression that running in the hot Hawaiian heat isn’t the worst kind of torture. As a person who spends a lot of time trying to strike a balance between what I hear “on the street” and what, in my heart, I believe is possible, I have a tendency towards weltschmerz, (which is why I know the word): “mental depression or apathy caused by comparison of the actual state of the world with an ideal state.” And this struggle invariably shows on my face.

One noteworthy thing I gleaned from the Daily Om post about worth was how much my sense of self-worth influences how I respond to the world:

“You are born worthy — it is intertwined with your very being. Your concept of your own self-worth is thus reinforced by your actions. Each time you endeavor to appreciate yourself, treat yourself kindly, define your personal boundaries, be proactive in seeing that your needs are met, and broaden your horizons, you express your recognition of your innate value. During those periods when you have lost sight of your worth, you will likely feel mired in depression and insecurity, and lack of confidence. You’ll pursue a counterfeit worth based on judgment rather than the beauty that resides within. When you feel worthy, however, you will accept yourself without hesitation. It is your value as an individual, who is simultaneously interconnected with all living beings, that allows you to be happy, confident, and motivated.”

In this way I learned that it’s not only me who suffers if I diminish my self worth, but those around me who benefit from the actions taken by a happy, confident and motivated person.

Needless to say, it was a great affirmation when I encountered the Proust quote about charming gardeners who make our souls blossom. It might not have struck me so deeply had it not come from an actual gardener whose efforts, along with those of a landscape designer and a contractor are combining to create an Eden (sans apple tree and serpent) in my own back yard.

Far better than mourning the illusions I carried about how the world should be, I can daily pay forward the thoughtfulness, generosity-of-spirit and can-do attitude that these three stellar humans, and their respective crews, exude. Their positivity is contagious. They have left a mark on my heart that reminds me I’m surrounded by good, kind, honest and thoughtful people. These are the fellow gardeners I seek, and have found in abundance, in my own back yard.

Please know that you are one of these charming people who make me happy whenever I see you. I’m grateful for you and everything you do to make the world a better garden.

KARMA

“As ye sow, so shall ye reap.” (Someone biblical)

As I was rooting around in the fridge for lunch this afternoon I came upon a container holding the seeds I had scraped from two particularly tasty papayas that were given to me recently, with the intention that I should scatter the seeds in the raw land at the back of our small property, cover lightly with a layer of soil, and see if we could germinate a small grove of papaya trees. Enlisting our landscaper for the task of scattering and coating them with soil, I was advised that in such a manner the birds would get the seeds before they had a chance to sprout. She suggested that I start them in pots where I could bury them deeper in soil to discourage any predatory birds.

As with other seemingly good ideas that required more work than I’d bargained for, I put the seeds in the fridge while I pondered (aka forgot) their fate. Until today. Having thrown countless papaya seeds in the compost, or worse, today my recession mentality kicked in and I felt compelled to plant the special seeds that had been given to me. I did not want to let down the side, garden-wise. So, rather than scatter the seeds randomly I dispersed them evenly between three cleared-out herb pots, and a bald patch next to the now-idle-but-for-a-thousand-cockroaches composter. I covered the seeds generously with soil and watered them in, just as raindrops signaled a temporary halt to the job. At which time I returned to this blog, and the many metaphorical associations with seeds that I’ve encountered in Swami Radha’s teachings. The first to come to mind was the following, from the chapter on “Good Intentions” in Time to be Holy:

“You can have very good seeds, but if you put them in poor ground they will not even take root and no shoots will ever come up because they are not nourished. If you put your spiritual seed in poor ground, it is exposed to all sorts of things like competition and envy: I’m bigger; you have been initiated longer; I’m first. These things do not belong in your spiritual life.”

Not only our actions but the thoughts that engender them expend energy that can be used for good or evil, the consequences of which will surely find us, if one believes in the law of karma. How do I know this? It’s not rocket science. If I want to lose weight, get in shape, learn to speak Spanish or grow papaya trees, there’s a universal law of cause and effect that says my rewards will be directly correlated to my effort. Given the right conditions, if I plant enough papaya seeds, I will inevitably get at least a few papaya trees. I won’t get orange trees. And the better I care for my papaya plants, the more abundant the fruit. In this way I am invoking the law of karma every day in every small act that is aimed at making the world a better place. As I witness the many disillusioning (if not downright terrifying) behaviors playing out on the world stage today, I invoke this law of karma as I know it to have operated so many times in my own life.

But, as I write this, I’m overcome with a great weariness. My inner saboteur is coming up with case after case wherein, with the best intentions, things do not appear to have turned out as desired or intended. In that sense, I am a microcosm of the population at large. The forces in me that would discourage even an intent – let alone a positive action – are at work in most of us at some time in our lives. Such forces as indifference, indecision or antipathy can overturn one’s best efforts to shift the needle from competition and greed to altruism and charity.

It is for times like these that I have ‘banked’ spiritual capital; through hours of chanting, reflection, and study of sacred texts I have planted, nurtured and harvested the seeds of wisdom that luminaries like Swami Radha have shared with me. I have learned to surrender my questions in meditation and prayer, and let the answer emerge organically. Today’s answer: just do the best I can with what I have where I am.

So today I planted papaya seeds. And a blog.

Oh, and the ‘royal we’ have also planted lime trees. If only I could grow blueberries, I’d have a tropical breakfast trifecta.

PURPOSE

“If you don’t know where you want to go, it doesn’t matter which path you take.” Lewis Carroll Alice in Wonderland

This morning as I pondered the theme of purpose, I pictured myself in a car idling at a crossroads; instead of four options — left or right, forward or back — the roads fork off in all directions like the spokes of a bicycle wheel. My imagination then expands this image into a three dimensional ball with spokes on all surfaces like a large pincushion. Soon this image morphs into a sun with its rays beaming in every direction. And this in turn reminds me of a talk I attended about the Keck Observatory. It was dazzling to see screen images taken of outer space, and marvel at the massive, complex telescopes that captured them at Keck.

In Yoga a Path to Awareness” Swami Radha writes that it is difficult (if not impossible) “for the individual to comprehend the tremendous phenomenon of the whole cosmos in which we find ourselves. Yet somehow we have to form a relationship to the cosmos or find our place in it.” Finding my place in the cosmos has been a lifelong pursuit.

Taken at a more relatable level, here on planet earth I can at least get a sense of the trajectory I’m on by tracking my footprints. By reflecting on the choices I have made that led to where I am today. Arthur Frank, a respected Canadian psychologist and author wrote:

“To live is to write one’s credo, every day, in every act. I pray for a world that offers us each the gift of reflective space, the Sabbath quiet, to recollect the fragments of our days and acts. In those recollections we may see a little of how our lives effect others and then imagine, in the days ahead, how we might do small and specific acts that create a world we believe every person has a right to deserve.”

From this I get a sense that purpose is not something that falls out of the sky to land in my lap and steer me for the rest of my life. And further, I realize it’s unhelpful, if not dangerous to compare myself to others who seem more certain and self-determined. I remember marveling at a relative who confidently claimed he had known he wanted to be a surgeon since he was a first-grader. He never wavered. My own youthful aspirations were more congruent with those of young girls everywhere: I wanted to be Elizabeth Taylor in National Velvet; a veterinarian; a ballerina; a famous artist and influential writer.

The latter ambition, that of writer, gained some traction through creative writing classes at university, and courses in Radio and Television Arts at NAIT that eventually landed me a job at an ad agency, and finally a somewhat unspecific writing job at the Alberta government’s Public Affairs Bureau. All of which I left behind to raise a family for the following few of decades.

My true and lifelong passion did not reveal itself until the Recession of the ‘80s. Having lost our business, our home, our livelihood and the social status that went with it, I realized that the only unassailable possession I had was ‘me, myself and I’. Sad to say, I didn’t even know who ‘I’ was without all the external trappings that supposedly defined me. Around this time a friend introduced me to the teachings of Swami Sivananda Radha, and these have indeed guided my subsequent adult life:

“When you recognize and accept the gift of consciousness, you realize it’s time to do something with it. That’s when you get control over your life. You don’t feel helpless, no matter what is going on in the world around you. And the inner security that so many people try to find through higher education, more money, greater social status, now comes through your own efforts.

“Sometimes, on an individual level, we can also have what I call “silent revolutions.” The silent revolution is when you change on the inside, taking a new look at life and who you are. You may decide that life has to change, but you can’t change the world. So what can you change? Only yourself, and you might be able to help change others – awakening them to the need for greater awareness. You can sharpen your intelligence. You can even cooperate with your own destiny. You don’t have to wait until life breaks you down in pain. Pain is a great teacher and for some, it is the only teacher. But life doesn’t have to be that way.”

This is why I continue to pontificate about leading an examined life. Urging people to go within, clean up your own back yard. The better I understand what makes me tick, the clearer I am about what is authentic to me and what is mere conditioning; the stronger I am about correcting negative behaviors and thought patterns, the more effectively I will respond to whatever daily life presents. And that, I believe, is a worthy purpose.

“Know thyself, and thou shall know all the mysteries of the gods and of the universe.” (Ancient Egyptian expression)

IMAGINE

“Vision without action is merely a dream. Action without vision just passes the time. Vision with action can change the world.”

(James Christensen, The Art of James Christensen: A Journey of the Imagination)

One of the things that has occurred to me in the process of recovering from surgery is a need for some kind of creative stimulation, something engrossing that can help pass the time I’d normally be spending in more outgoing, physical activities. Sadly, I’ve spent too much of this precious “down time” binge-watching Jack Ryan, and then trying to erase that gratuitious violence with episodes of “Young Sheldon” and/or “Frasier” reruns.

I am well aware how toxic it can be to feed my imagination such disturbing images as often witnessed on TV, or described in the books I’m reading. (NB Thanks to “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” I now scrupulously read reviews and download samples/trailers before committing to any book or film that might give me nightmares for weeks). This strategy is not a case of sticking my head in the sand and avoiding anything controversial or unsettling. Rather it’s a matter of using my inner resources, in this case my imagination, to the best possible advantage.

As to cultivating imagination, I once gave a workshop in which I asked participants to write down any pressing issue, obstacle or problem they’d brought with them to the workshop. Then, after a time of spiritual practice or quiet reflection, I posed the question: “If it didn’t have to be this way, how else could it be?” (This is also useful in dealing with problematic habits like procrastination — which is why I’m “cramming” to finish this blog before midnight on Monday). The point is, we often create a self-fulfilling prophesy by telling ourselves why things have to remain the same: “I can’t change X,Y,Z because of A,B,C!”

In some cases this is indisputably true. But not all. And probably not even most of the situations in which we feel stymied and/or incomplete. If we genuinely wish to make changes in our lives, (vs blaming and complaining) we need to at least suspend this belief about how things have to be, and recruit two of our most powerful tools: the power of choice and the power of imagination. Rather than accepting something as a necessary evil, say watching the evening news, I can choose to engage in any number of more constructive activities that will better prepare me for a peaceful night’s sleep. Researchers tell us that what we see or hear just prior to bed is apt to both seed our dreams and influence the next day’s mood.

Despite having created some helpful bedtime routines, and starting my day with practices designed for balance and equanimity, I am not impervious to the bombardment of information that Swami Radha describes below, in Kundalini Yoga for the West;

“The complexity of life has become such that one becomes either panicky or lethargic. In the latter case, the attitude of “It doesn’t matter anyway” may act as a key sentence in the mind and, through its unaware repetition, may achieve an almost hypnotic effect. Once settled in the mind, it is kept alive by emotions that can be both desperate and depressive. If violence is not one’s nature, resignation to life seems the only way. The natural life rhythm simply cannot absorb the constant impact of news, television and urban living, combined with the many power struggles that are outside the domain of an individual’s control.”

I refuse to buckle to either hypnotic suggestion or desperation/depression. Instead, I have begun a practice of listing what is currently disturbing me, and, after quiet reflection, asking myself how else it could be. When I hear stories of cruelty, corruption, hatred or greed I enlist the opposite of these behaviors, thus substituting gentleness for cruelty, honesty for corruption, loving kindness for hatred, and generosity for greed. Every day presents myriad opportunities to embody these and many more positive qualities. As Swami Radha would say:

“It’s up to each of us to develop a balanced, healthy diet for the imagination, a taste for quality and compassion, that can then manifest and help create the kind of world we want to live in.”

The power of choice emboldens me to co-create the change I wish to see in the world today. Besides, I can still eat popcorn without having to watch TV or movies…

TENACITY

“If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you…” (from If, by Rudyard Kipling)

The above quote from Kipling’s famous poem comes to mind as I watch all manner of palm fronds tossing crazily around the property like people losing their heads. Even though I sit in the protection of our main hale and have the luxury of watching these phenomenal winds from a safe distance, something of the disturbance in the atmosphere has upset my own equilibrium.

The other day the roar of the ocean was sufficient to draw us out, bowl of popcorn in hand, (wisely covered by a towel to weigh it down) and propel us to what we hoped might be a sheltered place at the beach to witness nature’s power and majesty. We found that tenuous shelter in the lee of a large ironwood tree, from which base we could view one hundred and eighty degrees of ocean fury, great white plumes erupting as wave after wave crashed into the reef and sea wall along Kuki’o Bay, and south to Kikaua and other tempestuous bays.

While, of course, I have the option to remain indoors when the natural world is deemed inhospitable, I don’t have such a ready escape from the realities that buffet mind and spirit on a regular basis. I’m always surprised that buffoons in high places can find willing henchmen to satisfy their foolish whims. Much of what I hear and read beggars belief. While it’s true that BS baffles brains, it must be equally true that stupidity begets stupidity, attracting and multiplying itself like the heads of Hydra.

What prompted this rant was a dispatch I recently received from a friend in Jerusalem, detailing the history of violence against the Jewish race, and which has revived its ugly head in the form of fresh aggression and rising anti-semitism.

I’m not suggesting that I know enough to have an opinion about world affairs. Certainly I’m not seeing much to convince me that we’re not all going to Hades in a hand basket. The furious winds that are literally raging around me seem like dramatic foreshadowing, and I wrack my brain for something positive to hang on to. Hence the reference to If. And a further reference to Willian Ernest Henley’s Invictus, the poem that carried Nelson Mandela through his darkest hours imprisoned on Robben Island:

“Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.”

As for Robben Island, although it is most famous for being the site of Madiba’s (Mandela’s) imprisonment, the island is a microcosm of Cape Town’s [and arguably our own] social and natural history. Today, it is a profound reminder of the brutality that was apartheid, but also a reminder of the tenacity of the human spirit and the resilience of nature.

As a bulwark against cynicism and despair, I mentally transpose Mandela’s ultimate triumph onto all the struggling tribes, nations and individuals I’m hearing about today. Like Mandela, stubbornly holding out hope in the face of all this daunting information. Clearly Henley and Kipling experienced their own dark night of the soul, and shared their struggles, as do poets and even pop singers today, to inspire others with their messages of optimism and bravery. Reaching beyond their individual experiences to express what is intrinsically human — the struggle between good and evil, selfishness or self-less-ness. Obstinately clinging to the belief that small acts of kindness and compassion will ultimately prevail.

Who am I to disagree?

FAITH

“Be faithful to that which exists within yourself.”(André Gide)

The other morning I watched what I thought was a frog bobbing around in the flower bed. Before long I realized it was a tiny earth-coloured bird, clumsy and almost flightless. After observing its attempts to fly, I got the sense that it had fledged too early, and it’s likelihood of survival, especially in a garden frequented by feral cats, was discouragingly low. And thus commenced the perennial human dilemma, do I intervene in some way to increase the odds of survival, or let nature run its course?

I intervened.

I sprinkled a handful of ground chia seeds on the sidewalk nearby and checked periodically to see if it had been depleted. My spirits lifted when I saw that the seeds were almost gone, until I learned that my husband and current nurse-man/sherpa had swept them off the path.

Later, reading on the lanai, I observed the two parent birds hopping and chirping, demonstrating flying to their floundering chick. To no avail. Later, finding the chick huddled next to a table leg, I had Jim place a dish of water on the deck next to it. He kindly splashed some water on the ground to clue in our chick to the contents of the dish. Then we left for dinner and it was too dark to see the baby bird on our return.

I woke the next day reflecting on the necessities for survival. With the vulnerable chick in mind, the first words that came to mind were food and water, safety and shelter. So I decided if I found the chick again I would bring it inside our main hale, leaving the sliding glass doors open wide during the day, so the parents could still encourage their offspring, but where the cats wouldn’t be so bold as to enter. As of this writing, I have only heard various chirpings, but no sign of our baby bird. Would I dare to activate my plan if I were to find it again? If not, why wouldn’t I?

Well I did find it again. Or at least what remained of it. A small scattering of minute feathers told me all I needed to know. Then the recriminations started. I should have searched for it the night before. Could have better ensured it’s safety. Could have acted more decisively. Shoulda, coulda, woulda.

The whole process showed me how I’ve elevated self- doubt and second-guessing to a fine art, one in which, regardless of what I choose, I’m damned if I don’t, and damned if I do. It’s not so significant that my dilemma be a matter of life and death, albeit a baby-bird-size one, as it is important to see how crippling indecision and self-doubt can be. To compound it with self-recrimination only adds insult to injury. How to break this vicious circle? As I was ruminating about this pattern a friend sent me the quote from André Gide:

“Be faithful to that which exists within yourself”.

If faith is the antidote to doubt then what exists within me that I might have faith in? My intuition? My inner wisdom? What happens when I can’t hear or don’t respond to intuition’s promptings? What is happening when I’m crippled with indecision?

To answer these questions I turned to a post by life coach Martha Beck: “How to Stay True to Yourself—No Matter Who You’re Talking To.” Beck writes that crippling indecision is often caused by looking to others for acceptance, approval or affirmation. Even if there’s nobody around! Being ruled by what others might think compels me to take on the role of two or more people: myself and whomever else I have internalized. It is fear, on some unconscious level, of making mistakes and being ostracized from the tribe that creates the endless loop of yes-no-maybe-so. Step one in getting out of this loop is choosing to believe in my own intrinsic value.

According to the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy:
“The intrinsic value of something is said to be the value that that thing has “in itself,” or “for its own sake,” or “as such,” or “in its own right.” Extrinsic value is value that is not intrinsic.”

The more value I place on extrinsic markers of success and acceptance (aka fame and fortune) and by which yardstick I compare myself and everyone else, I will lack faith in my innate worth as a person. And unfairly place people above or below me in an arbitrary hierarchy as unsound as a house of cards. Better I do unto others as poet Roy Croft wrote in his “I Love You” poem:

“I love you for
putting your hand into my heaped-up heart
And passing over all the foolish, weak things
that you can’t help dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out into the light
All the beautiful things
that no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find.”

Amor Vincit Omnia

BLOG 34

CURIOSITY

“This is a dream. I am free. I can change.”
(Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche)

As I begin this week’s blog, I shield myself from a fiercely windy Hawaiian morning in the relative shelter of the lanai. Across from me the soaked trunk of a coco palm, its crown cut off by the roofline, so resembles the leg of an elephant that it gets me thinking about these magnificent beasts (about which I know next to nothing). Because the theme for this week’s blog presented itself as ‘curiosity’ I became curious about elephants, and curious to know if they were known for having curiosity. This sparked a fascinating foray into elephant research and lore. So much so that I lost my original train of thought and got wrapped up in the ethics of keeping such known-to-be-highly-intelligent creatures in circuses, zoos and even sanctuaries.

The following quote brought my attention back on topic:

“One characteristic that is readily apparent with elephants—and with many other species—is that they can exude a wide variety of personalities. They can be bold or shy, laid-back or short-tempered, curious or afraid, and the list goes on.”

In fact, scientists are discovering that elephants are also creative problem solvers, they mourn their lost loved-ones, and are self aware:

“Self-awareness in both animals and young children is usually tested using the ‘mirror self-recognition test’ to see if they understand that the reflection in front of them is actually their own. Only a few species have so far shown themselves capable of self-recognition – great apes, dolphins, magpies and elephants.” (Cambridge University)

It’s humbling to contemplate just how smug we humans can be regarding our presumed emotional or intellectual superiority over the animal kingdom with which we share our origins. But, once aware of this tendency, we can use our mental capacities to adapt and change in ways that improve living conditions for a wide variety of life forms. Flexibility of thought combined with creative application of new insights and ideas are what give us our advantage over less evolved creatures. By constantly pushing out boundaries, humans have come from living in caves without plumbing or electricity to inventing the plethora of mod-cons that we take for granted today. From occupying a small plot of earth from cradle to grave, we have used modern technology to travel the globe and extend our reach even into outer space.

In this spirit of exploration and discovery I have begun studying Andrew Holecek’s Dream Yoga; Illuminating Your Life Through Lucid Dreaming and the Tibetan Yoga of Sleep that was casually given to me by a neighbor who somehow ended up with an extra copy. In this offhand way I received something that has more than piqued my curiosity, seeming to answer a question I had been asking as to the next steps on my evolutionary journey. My question had been: “If life is but a dream, how can I free myself from the illusions that I have mistaken for reality? How can I change my sense of self in essential and profound ways? Upon first perusal I read:

“This book is like a tour into your innermost self. As many guidebooks say, we’re going to leave familiar territory and journey into foreign lands. It takes an intrepid spirit to leave the comfortable and familiar and travel into the unknown, but as any seasoned world traveler knows, the moments of hassle and discomfort are worth it. You will return from this inner journey, just as you would any outer sojourn, a better and more worldly person. You will become infinitely more cosmopolitan because you will connect not just to the people you might meet in places like Istanbul or Delhi (if you were to venture out into the world), but to all people everywhere as you venture into a shared inner domain.”

What better time to take such a journey than when I am sentiently recovering from hip replacement surgery? As is my wont, I looked up ‘sentiently’ to make sure it was a word, and found the definition: “a way that shows that someone or something is conscious and able to experience feelings.

I had actually meant to use the word sedentary: “(of a person) tending to spend much time seated; somewhat inactive” but gravitate to ‘sentiently’ because it conveys my intention to use this fallow time to take stock of my life. To come to terms with the feelings of apathy, and thoughts of mortality that had lately taken up residence in my mind, circumscribed as it was by chronic pain and limited mobility.

As I’ve just begun reading, there’s little I can say about this new line of inquiry, but am encouraged by what I gleaned from the introduction:

“This inner journey may take you temporarily out of the comfort zone of your familiar home in the gross mind and outer body, but it will eventually deliver you to your true home in the center of yourself, and the bed of mind that you share with all sentient beings. Then you might arise from this bed and come back from this inner journey to re-inhabit your outer forms, and your everyday life, with the newfound treasures you have discovered within. And perhaps, just like the masters of old, you will then offer these riches to others and invite them to do the same.”

Heigh ho, heigh ho, it’s off to dream yoga I go…

“THE GUEST HOUSE

“This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.”

— Jellaludin Rumi

Today is Sunday, and normally, on a Sunday I would have a blog under way, or at least an idea of a blog that could be sent off on Monday. But I am not at that place. And I’m not there because pain has zapped all of my energy, and pain meds — taken or not taken — have put me in a fugue mood, which I will now have to look up to see if it means what I think it does.

It doesn’t.

“Mental health professionals can diagnose dissociative fugue disorder using the DSM, or Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. The symptoms are: sudden travel with the inability to recall one’s past and confusion about one’s identity. If these symptoms are causing distress or impairment, and cannot be explained by another condition, it is a fugue state.”

Well, there goes that approach; I’m not in a fugue state. ‘Funk’ might sum it up, but fugue has an appealing sort of onomatopoeia about it. Fugue just naturally bleakens one’s mood. It’s a sludgy-molasses-in-January sort of word that I’m thinking suits me perfectly this early evening. It’s not a state of mind that I’m willing to entertain very often, or for very long. But this funky-wannabe-fugue mood has a place in Rumi’s teachings, and that’s a compelling enough reason to bring in into the room, as they say:

“The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.”

So how does one greet the unwelcome thoughts and emotions that occasionally come calling? How does one incorporate or embrace pain? And how might having my mental furniture, my thoughts, opinions and constructs ‘swept away’ serve my greater well-being? To me, the answer is simple. Know thyself.

I cannot imagine a more important reason to know and master myself than to discern when my thoughts are not my own. Whether they be chemically-induced or brought on by a steady diet of other people’s opinions and beliefs, I need the self-awareness and strength of character to separate these external influences from my authentic thoughts and ideas. That’s what the Buddha meant by: “…after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.”

In last week’s blog I asked “Is there some way to reframe our worldview to include the good, the bad and the ugly that we cannot avoid witnessing? Without becoming cynical and fatalistic, discouraged and defeated? If the point is not to reshape the world to comply with our cherished ideals, in what way might we reshape our minds to embrace the world as it is, and find a purposeful way to exist within it?”

Simply by observing my mind I could recognize the thoughts that were as unwelcome as they were improbable: my Apple Watch was, in all likelihood, not gaslighting me, and my carpet was not deliberately trying to trip my walker. My bath towel was not intentionally trying to sprain my wrist by snagging on the hook, and finding the toilet seat down in the middle of the night was not some kind of evil conspiracy.

It’s easier to spot the ridiculous thoughts than the subtle self-sabotage that says the nurse, surgeon, physiotherapist, receptionist etc. don’t know what they’re talking about. And then give myself permission to act contrary to my best interests. My greatest hedge against that happening is to maintain a consistent spiritual practice. To clear my mind with mantra and/or centering breath work. To observe the inner narrative first in my journal, before giving any power to it.

Then, I can eat a Justin’s dark organic chocolate peanut butter cup and vow that tomorrow will be a different day.

Amen