Author: bondjanet

WELTSCHMERZ (World Sorrow)

“You said one could be deformed by this country, and yet it seems to me one can only be deformed by the things one does to oneself. It’s not the outside things that deform you, it’s the choices you make. To live anywhere in the world, you must know how to live in Africa. The only thing you can do is love, because it is the only thing that leaves light inside you, instead of the total, obliterating darkness.” (Criena Alcock in My Traitor’s Heart, by Rian Malan)

Wikipedia defines Welt (world) schmerz (pain) as a combination of sadness brought on by witnessing the evils of the world; and the suffering brought on when reality falls far short of one’s standards, expectations or ideals.

In essence these are the same thing, but they differ in degree. It’s undeniable that there exists in the world death, disease, hatred, cruelty, injustice, poverty, and countless other evils. This fact alone can swamp a person in confusion and sorrow. But to experience true Weltschmerz one must be under the illusion that this is NOT how the world is supposed to be. This suggests that somewhere in our collective or individual imagination there “exists” a world that has never actually been. The pundit Travis McGee describes Weltschmerz as “homesickness for a place you have never seen”.

There must be some perceived advantage to this belief, or it wouldn’t be held by so many people. Nonetheless, it needs to be more thoroughly examined to discern whether or not it continues to serve a useful purpose.

From whence do we get our illusions or beliefs? 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?

In the closing section of his book My Traitor’s Heart, Malan visits a White woman named Creina Alcock, whose life shines like a beacon of hope in a strange and complicated land. Alcock lived on the border of Msinga, a tribal homeland, where she and her husband struggled to build a sustainable rural development project among the local black communities. When Alcock was widowed after her husband was murdered while trying to negotiate peace talks during a tribal disturbance, Criena was pressured by friends and family to abandon the project.

With ample reason to give up on Africa, and humanity in general, Criena instead chose what she called the way of love:

“I felt utterly betrayed by loving. All the things I had ever been told about love just weren’t true. It was all full of false promises. I understood that love was a safety and a protection, and that if you loved you would be rewarded by someone loving you back, or at least not wanting to damage you. But it wasn’t true, any of it. I knew that if I stayed, this was how it was going to be: It would never get any better; it would stay the same, or get worse. I thought, If you’re really going to live in Africa, you have to be able to look at it and say, This is the way of love, down this road: Look at it hard. This is where it is going to lead you.”

Malan, an investigative journalist, chose to focus on Alcock in the closing section of his book in order to shed a glimmer of hope on what otherwise reads like an apocalyptic inevitability. It’s also a cautionary tale for those of us living outside Africa.

Watching TV or reading print media, I too fear that the world is careening towards the obliteration of which Alcock is speaking. So I ask myself: What can I do to reverse this trajectory? What can anyone do to bring about a peaceful resolution? While there’s much to address on so many national and international levels, I can think of no better place to start than in my own back yard. And, thanks to my impending hip surgery, I’ve experienced first-hand the kind of love and care for one’s neighbors (read Aloha and Ohana) that Alcock is talking about.

I can honestly say I’ve never experienced such an outpouring of well-wishes nor such genuine offers of help. Which tells me that love goes both ways — in Alcock’s case, it’s about persistence and forgiveness when our best efforts are met with resistance or rejection. And it’s about loving our neighbors and lending a helping hand in times of need. It’s the strength of conviction that every act, no matter how small, truly matters. And it’s gratitude for all the large and small gestures of Aloha that have come my way. All that remains is to pay it forward, with interest.

“E lei kau, e lei ho’oilo
I ke aloha.”

“Aloha is everlasting,
Worn like a lei throughout all seasons.”

ACCEPTANCE IS KEY

“Think of people like flowers. Roses are beautiful, but they have thorns. You have to be very careful before you touch thistles, but even weeds are healing plants.” (Swami Sivananda Radha Time to be Holy)

Lately I have made myself homesick by using a screen saver app that posts a random selection of people from my photo archives, some that go quite far back in time. This morning I was treated to a candid photo from several years ago, featuring a young grandson in a rather hostile pose. Normally I try to preserve the happy-face photos that one sees on family holiday greetings, but I’ve taken so many of the grandkiddies that some of them will inevitably be captured in boredom, anger or simply a goofy mood. (One such photo features a grandchild rolling his eyes back as if having a seizure, which creeps me out whenever I see it, but it’s hard to find and delete the actual image).

Many of the photos remind me of our now teenaged grandkids at a time when they were sweet and cuddly and virtually worshipped their grandfather and me. And when they never thought to lip me off! Seeing such before-and-after photos of our grandkids reminds me that whatever stage they’re now in will also, inevitably, pass. This makes it easier to forbear when one or two of them are being royal pains in the…tuchus.

A word closely related to forbearance is acceptance, and in it’s more sublime form, we have equanimity. Perhaps these are sequential steps along the evolutionary journey. Forbearance implies a stoic, stiff-upper-lip attitude that is only apt to hold for so long. When something comes along to trigger that pent-up frustration, anger or resentment, we risk blowing up at some relatively innocent “victim”. It’s called taking hostages. In fact, I gave someone a taste of that today, sad to say.

Having the humility and self-awareness to accept these irritations as necessary to my spiritual growth can be a bitter pill to swallow. When one can say “thank-you” for such unsolicited (read unwelcome) sources of learning, one will have come a long way towards self-mastery. Which is the point of leading an examined life.

In her chapter titled “Getting (I typoed “Gritting”) Along With Others” in Time to be Holy, Swami Radha offers the following:

“There really isn’t anything or anyone absolutely bad or negative, and nobody benefits from your effort to understand that, except you. It helps to remember that each one of us is not an island, and that we have our seasons, and our ups and downs. Life is not just a straight line. It’s a wave. Sometimes you are on top of the wave, sometimes you have to go to the bottom, and then you have to make sure you have enough momentum to come up again on the other side.”

In an ideal world, forbearance evolves into acceptance and acceptance evolves into the more steady state of balance and harmony that I associate with equanimity. Conversely, the degree to which I can maintain a state of equanimity is a measure of how far I have come in accepting myself and others.

In Sharon Salzberg’s Lovingkindness: the Revolutionary Art of Happiness, equanimity is said to be the most essential of the four brahma viharas or “sublime states of mind” to which Buddhist seekers aspire. The first three virtues consist of metta (gentle friendship), sympathetic joy (celebrating the good fortune of others), and compassion (walking with others through their sorrows); while the fourth, equanimity, is described as a “spacious stillness of the mind, a radiant calm that allows us to be present fully with all the different changing experiences that comprise our world and our lives.”

Equanimity is something I aspire to but am a long way from making a steady state, so today I’m setting my mental compass on ‘acceptance’. With my word of intention for 2024 being ‘trust’, I am doubly equipped to deal with the hiccups that presented themselves this week, as furniture that was ordered months ago finally arrived but was the wrong quantity, colour, shape and size. Perfect, I thought! I can accept that this too shall pass, and trust that we can rectify this first world problem. Would I prefer not to have to do that. Absolutely. But personal growth is about dealing with the situation in which I find myself and doing my best to problem-solve and move on, without blowing up or taking hostages.

If life were always easy there’d be no need to work on myself, no incentive to evolve at all. Difficulties and dissonances are catalysts for leading an examined life. As Swami Radha asks:

“Can you put yourself on a course of evolution and cooperate with it, not leaving it to chance – wondering, will it work, will it not work? Can you take matters into your own hands and direct your life so that you can say, “Living is a particular art and I have made the best of it.”?”

Can I? It’s worth a try!

January 8, 2024

TRUST

“To move on to your next phase, you need to shift from the outer guru to the inner guru, or what Jesus called “the kingdom of God within.” It means quieting the emotions and really listening. When you need the guidance most, it is available – but you have to look for it.” (Swami Sivananda Radha: yoga a path to awareness)

The day after a very low-key New Year’s Eve (a glass of bubbly at a neighbor’s, followed by bed at 10:30 with a grand-dog burrowed between us, quaking with fireworks fright) I was reminded that I hadn’t yet committed to a “word of intention” for 2024.

In a pre-Christmas meeting some friends and I pondered this suggestion of choosing a word of intention, something that would succinctly remind us of a quality we wished to cultivate in 2024. At the time I chose the word “trust”. I had so much going on and so little control or certainty that the best I could do was trust it would all work out.

Then I promptly forgot all about it.

But no matter, for when someone asked me how our holidays went, I replied that I felt lucky not to have been run over by the moving train that I had set in motion with my pre-Christmas ambitions. Maybe a better metaphor would be that of riding a wave that miraculously didn’t break and smash me on a reef. The wave was one of trusting that my motivations were pure and my intentions sincere: I just did what my heart compelled me to do. In some ways it felt like a wild ride because my usual control-oriented patterns were suspended and I led with a kind of trust that has been inhibited for much of my life.

My previous and long-standing M.O. was to operate from a risk-averse place of needing to assess any negative consequences and/or anticipate what could possibly go wrong. Some call that paralysis by analysis. It’s a surefire way to stay mired in indecision and second-guessing. As Goethe wrote (and I’m so fond of quoting):

“Until one is committed, there is always hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative and creation, there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too.”

In my case, the commitment I made in November to “trust”, (despite having let it slip my mind) worked its way deep into my psyche, so that I acted on it spontaneously, somehow circumventing the gatekeeper of my risk-averse ego and simply riding the flow that I couldn’t predict or control. Swami Radha would call it cooperating with my evolution of consciousness:

“Once you see the tremendous opportunity that life gives you to cooperate with the law of spiritual evolution, you will want to increase your efforts in personal development. Divine law has a specific application for each individual, suited to the karmic situations of our unique paths, but the overall purpose of life is the same for everyone. If you accept the challenge of evolution of consciousness, you will find that you have much greater equanimity to face whatever life offers. The option is always open to either cooperate with evolution or to resist the divine plan. If you make the choice to cooperate, you will undoubtedly experience increased peace and happiness.”

Over the holidays I did experience increased peace and happiness over years past, and much of that is due to having trusted my inner guru, my heart.

Otherwise, there is simply too great an array of external authorities offering advice about how to lead my life.

A sampling: “”Ego Death: Restore Your True Self-Identity”; “Change your mindset, change the game”; “Breathe to Heal”; “How to protect your brain from stress”; “Test your might! Shaolin spirit”; Quantum physics for 7 year olds”. And that’s only part of a YouTube page. It’s a smorgasbord that gives me a stomach ache even before attempting to ingest any of it.

This “indigestion” is as good a reason as any to build trust in my own authority. And NOT because I’ve done years of study and practice. Much of that was just a distraction, driven by a need to excel at something. That’s not what you need to be your own authority. To be your own authority takes courage and conviction, the belief that the wisdom and guidance one needs is within and can be accessed by quieting the emotions and really listening. Right now. Right where you are.

Of course this is ironic because here I am blogging, offering suggestions about leading an examined life, giving my ego a boost when I hear back from one of you. But all of it is in hopes of your finding your inner guru, to assure you that cooperating with your evolution of consciousness is worth it.

As T.S. Eliot said: “…and the end of all our searching will be to arrive where we started, and know the place for the first time”.

Whatever your word of intention, my wish is for you to become your own authority, discover your inner wisdom and divinity, and set an example for other people.

Jan. 1, 2024

RISK

“The person who risks nothing does nothing, has nothing. All we know about the future is that it will be different, but perhaps what we fear is that it will be the same. So we must celebrate the changes because as someone once said, everything will be alright in the end, and if it’s not alright, then trust me, it’s not yet the end.” (The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel)

As New Year’s Day approaches I weigh the risks involved in answering a dare to polar plunge in Green Lake with my son and various other family members. This should not be too intimidating. I’ve already plunged in the ocean a few times since returning to B.C., with the difference being a pool, hot tub, steam room, and hot drinks a few steps away. Unless we break a hole through the albeit thin ice in front of the lake cabin, this adventure requires a drive to where we last saw open water, which will at least be a walk of some distance from where we park the car. That, for me, will be the hardest part. Because I’m already strategizing how to answer this challenge, I know I will inevitably go. Which may be why the above quote stood out for me.

I’d been looking through my notes for a quote by Hillevi Ruumet, a transpersonal anthropologist and professor at ITP, now Sophia University, whose work on the evolution of consciousness has had a lasting impact on me. But, as is often the case, what I’d recorded about risk, from Marigold Hotel, is not unrelated to what drew me to Ruumet this particular morning.

In her model of psycho-spiritual development, Ruumet uses the chakra system to describe the various stages a human attains to in order, ideally, to fulfill their evolutionary potential.

In explaining what she calls the “Spiral Dance” Ruumet outlines several stages that build on both horizontal (psychological) and vertical (spiritual) growth and integration. Think of a seven or eight story building that fans outwards and upwards from a central core with differing tasks associated with each “floor”.

In her chapter on “Evolution and Maya” Swami Radha expands on this theme:

“THERE IS A DISPARITY in the evolution of consciousness in human beings. Groups of people develop at different rates, side by side. There are on earth right now some people who have still not developed a written language. Yet there were people living in the Middle East thousands of years ago who wrote works which later became part of the Bible’s Book of Proverbs. They were people with very high ideals and insights on how to conduct life and how to take care of other human beings less fortunate in their grasp and intelligence.”

For those of us who have the luxury of time and/or inclination to devote to our personal growth, there is also an unspoken imperative to do so. As much as we have a duty to secure our socio-economic futures, we have an equal responsibility to fulfill our psycho-spiritual potential, in order to care for other, less fortunate beings. I know from experience how intimidating real personal growth can be. Confronting our illusions is hard, as is cleaning up our karmic back yard. Once we have achieved a certain degree of material comfort and financial stability it is tempting to stay with the devil we know even if, in some vague way, we sense we’re missing something vital to a full “360 degree” life.

Ruumet offer this insight:

“There can be no happiness in staying at a stage we have outgrown, because a part of us always remembers what we were really called to do, and failed transitions can be tragic, even lethal. The depression that often accompanies such a failure in someone who has clearly been called to the next stage but refused it (often for “sensible” reasons) can manifest across a whole range of psychopathology, have personal and career consequences, and cause “soul loss”. We must keep growing or, as Jung suggested, we risk becoming caricatures of ourselves.”

I have built my spiritual house, such as it is, over decades of daring to face my own demons (which frankly don’t seem to get any less, so much as just different) and in doing so I’m building spiritual resilience in the same way I’ve built physical resilience by regularly dipping into the frigid Pacific. And now Green Lake! For the past couple of nights my three sons, a daughter-in-law and I have made our way down to the dock and gingerly climbed off into the glacier-fed water.

No Wim Hof’s us, we were nonetheless chuffed to have done it, not so much for bragging rights (though I did get the record for number of dunks, three) but for the sake of pushing beyond our limits, our fear of the dark and the unknown. Not to mention the cold! Which is also why I lead an examined life. I know from experience that there is always more to explore, and each small victory over some bad habit or each way that I add value to someone else’s life is its own reward. And taking calculated risks is the only effective way forward.

As Anais Nin wrote: “And the day came when the risk it took to stay tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”

Is today your day?

CHARISMA

charisma (n.)
1875, “a special spiritual gift or power divinely conferred, talent from God” (as on the early Christians in “Acts,” etc.), Latinized form of Greek kharisma “favor, divine gift,” from kharizesthai “to show favor to,” from kharis “grace, beauty, kindness”.

“The meaning “gift of leadership, power of authority” is from c. 1930, from German, used in this sense by Max Weber (1864-1920) in “Wirtschaft u. Gesellschaft” (1922). The more mundane sense of “personal charm” recorded by 1959.” (Wikipedia)

The other night I attended a high school holiday concert consisting of various band and vocal performances, and featuring the usual range from sullen teens barely moving their lips, to those outstanding few who were fully invested in what they were doing. Despite wanting to be democratic in my attention span, I was consistently drawn to one or two performers who stood out by the gusto with which they played their instruments, or projected not only their voices but something of their personalities. The word “charisma” came to mind. Despite their awkward teenaged bodies, and probable social anxieties, there were certain students who consistently drew my gaze with their beaming smiles and utter lack of guile. I wanted to hug them, or better yet, swaddle them in bubble wrap. I wanted to protect them from the petulant miasma of their peers. And from an adult world that would judge them by other, soulless criteria.

But another thought superseded this negative assessment and shifted my perspective a hundred and eighty degrees. I suddenly realized that I was not there to watch Mr. or Ms. High School Popularity perform for posterity, but rather to witness a precious few who seemed impervious to what their peer group considered cool. And who, by their very resilience, had the future potential to become powerful leaders and influential teachers.

This reflection on resilience and imperviousness brought to mind the lotus, a plant that has, since ancient times, featured prominently in the yogic teachings.

Considered one of the most sacred plants in the world, the lotus is a perennial, aquatic specimen that has a daily-life cycle like no other plant. The ultimate light-worshipper, the lotus roots itself in the muddy bottom of still or slow moving water, its lengthy stem reaching through the aqueous gloom to the surface, where it emerges in a starburst of exuberant bloom. Thanks to a protective outer coating that repels dirt and water, these day-blooming plants close and submerge at night, only to re-emerge, gleaming and pristine, with bright morning sunlight.

Symbolically speaking, because the lotus rises from the murky water without stains, it is often viewed as a symbol of purity, as well as strength, resilience and rebirth. Yet another association with the lotus is transcendence: it represents the transcending of man’s spirit over worldly matter, since it rises from the underworld into the light. And therein lies the thread (dare I say stem) that connects the choir, charisma and the lotus.

I ask myself what special qualities, grace or gift might these few students possess in order to make such a touching impression? How to define their unique appeal, the je ne sais quoi that drew my attention to them, time and time again? And what special sauce makes them impervious to other people’s actions or thoughts? What makes up the protective outer coating that, as for the lotus, repels figurative dirt and water? And finally, how am I to protect myself, not only from such external “slings and arrows” but also from inner thoughts that wander down crooked emotional paths and psychological dark alleys?

Can one cultivate charisma? Or is it a divinely conferred spiritual gift, talent or power that is forever out of reach of mere mortals like me? When I think of the students who impressed me at the concert, I imagine that they came by their skills through a combination of innate talent, practice and training. But their appeal had more to do with who they were as humans, their courage and commitment. Their capacity for joy and humility. And for not taking themselves too seriously.

I can’t much carry a tune, and was a dismal ukulele player, but I believe I can, inspired by these outstanding student examples, make the best of what God, and my gene pool gave me. Which today means diving whole-heartedly into our chaotic and excessive family Christmas gathering. Celebrating the gift of exuberant grandchildren. Patiently catching the crickets that escape from the bearded dragon’s cage. Passing around the expensive but slightly bent chocolates that were inadvertently melted over the heating vent. Working around a dog that lies in the middle of the kitchen when we’re trying to make dinner. Biting my tongue when tempted to tell others how things should be done. And praying for the resilience to count my blessings as we spend the next week cleaning up the mess.

Ad Lucem.

STEERING BY STARLIGHT

“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight,
Wish I may, wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight”.

The other day our friend Ron sent us pictures of the recent Ursid meteor shower, one of the most extravagant he has seen, taken from 9000 ft up on Mauna Kea mountain. As the tallest peak in the Hawaiian islands, Mauna Kea is the site of thirteen international observatories that track the cosmos from one of the clearest vantage points on the planet.

Apologizing that, at 2:00 a.m. the quality of the imagery was compromised by ambient light from all the spectators’ vehicles, our intrepid photographer left the 36 degree F temperature and headed back down for what I presume were hot drinks, a shower,
and maybe a catch-up forty winks. It struck me as impressive that so many people were willing to stay up so late (or rise so early) to catch this spectacular show that their headlights compromised our friend’s photos. I also admire Ron’s passion for photography, and especially his willingness to risk frostbite in order to capture this rare meteorological phenomenon (for armchair astrologers like me to stargaze vicariously). Clearly a fascination with all things celestial is shared by many, including the person or persons who first recorded the rhyme I was taught as a child.

Looking up the origins of wishing upon a star, Wikipedia had this to offer:

“The superstition of hoping for wishes granted when seeing a shooting or falling star may date back to the ancient world. Wishing on the first star seen may also predate this rhyme, which first began to be recorded in late nineteenth-century America.”

In regards to the ancient world, I do know that the tribes which originally populated Hawai’i put the stars to good use, navigating their way across vast swaths of open ocean by applying their knowledge of the night sky. Hence the origins of steering by starlight. I asked myself what steering by starlight might mean metaphorically, what thoughts and ideals might guide my evolutionary journey and hopefully manage my monkey mind, the inner saboteur? What practical routines and activities could I perform consistently, so as to free myself from the conflicting desires and conditioned beliefs that prevent me from going where I want to go and being who I want to be. (I know something gets in the way of the perfection I seek!)

I remember reading a quote that went something like: “If you don’t know where you want to go, any road will do.” Going, being and doing require some sense of purpose and direction if we are to live and die consciously. While purpose and direction can change as one ages, every individual has to decide for him or herself what is to be the guiding, or Pole Star at any time of their life. At this stage of my life (but also for the past three-plus decades), I am guided by a desire to evolve in consciousness, to cultivate intuition, and build courage, character and awareness. I do this as much for my children and grandchildren, their friends and subsequent generations, as for my own edification. Though self-acceptance, self-love and self-compassion are essential qualities, I still believe it’s possible (and sometimes imperative) to become a better me. And no better time than during the holiday season, when my illusions of the Norman-Rockwell-best-Christmas-ever interfere with the peace, harmony and ease of well-being I’m hoping to achieve.

In Time to be Holy, a Pole Star of sorts for my spiritual journey, Swami Radha reminds me to take myself less seriously:

“We all enter situations where something irks us, and for a couple of days we may have all sorts of mental conversation about it. If you can put these insignificant things aside without being disturbed in your peace, your sense of harmony and your sleep, you will have taken a great step toward conquering yourself. Many of the things which bother us are very insignificant. We give them a big importance from our sense of perfection, but most of the time our idea of perfection is insignificant. It really doesn’t matter.

“All our thoughts, our dreams, our speculations, our opinions, our convictions and our beliefs really don’t amount to much, except in the area of Higher Consciousness. It is your commitment to the Divine that is the important thing. That is what gives you your place in the cosmos.”

My goal for this season, and in the coming months, is to take whatever life presents me with as a gift, as a chance to learn, to grow, to see the best in others and bring out the best in myself, and take my humble place in the cosmos.

As poet Mary Oliver wrote: “What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

WHAT GOES BUMP IN THE NIGHT

“Lean to the left; lean to the right; stand up, sit down, fight, fight, fight!” (High school sports cheer)

This old sports cheer came to mind while trying to salvage a stand of flax grass that had been flattened by a carelessly disposed garden hose. As I attempted to get the perilously slanted spears to stand upright I thought of how hard it can be to shift far-leaning beliefs, and to what extremes people can go in defending these oft-arbitrary ideas. Not to mention at what great cost to our peace, harmony and ease of well-being. As the sports cheer would imply, there’s a desire in humans — indeed a survival instinct — to belong, to prevail, to fight, fight, fight for the winning side. The motivation most common behind these instincts is fear. Our old reptilian brain’s fear of rejection, abandonment, of being ostracized from the tribe. Fear of suffering in its many guises. Being able to confront our fears is a prerequisite to leading an examined life. As Ram Dass wrote:

“In the process of learning to be mindful, and to age in a conscious way, fearlessness is an essential ingredient.” He continues:

“This fearlessness involves the willingness to tell the truth, to ourselves and others, to confront the contents of our minds. We must be willing to look at everything — our own suffering as well as the suffering around us — without averting our gaze, and allow it to be in the present moment. Rather than closing ourselves to fear, we learn to open to it, to sit with it, allowing it to arise and pass in its own time.”

In this way, fear can be understood, for example, as what makes a chair piled with old clothes in daytime morph into a menacing monster in the dark of night. Whenever a figurative or literal light is turned on, one can better see things in their true proportions. Trust me, I know of what I speak. Lately I have been waking several times a night with an unruly host of potential problems running around in my head. Some of these problems arise from uncultivated imagination, not being willing or able to distinguish between my own and others’ opinions and beliefs, fearing what will happen if I risk implementing my own ideas. Thinking that in some way my safety and security depend on others accepting, agreeing with or approving of me. I witness the stand-up/sit-down of conflicting thoughts that make forward momentum almost impossible.

Of course, by way of problem-solving, you’ve never heard me suggest keeping a spiritual journal…

Anyway, I’ll say it again. Confronting the contents of one’s mind in a journal helps to dissipate the emotional reactions that can do so much collateral damage. The point being that one can work out such problems more easily by first writing them down, allowing oneself to see what’s happening with some degree of detachment. “Parking” such thoughts in my journal also allows me to shelve them for the time it takes (at least for the rest of the night) to get more information or clarification.

Another effective way of gaining perspective is through a spiritual practice that I learned at Yasodhara Ashram, called straight walk thinking.

A simplified version of this practice is to write what you know of the problem on a piece of paper, leaving space for further reflections once the exercise is done. Place these notes on a chair a few feel in front of you. Center yourself with some form of calming breathing, (I do the easy method: inhaling to four counts and exhaling to four counts) and then simply walk to the chair, pause, turn around and walk back to your starting position. While holding your questions or concerns lightly in mind, walk a quarter of the way around a circle with the chair as the center. Stop and look at the problem from this new angle. Walk to the chair, pause, turn and walk back to this second point. Repeat for a further quarter circle until you are behind the chair, still a few feet away. Pause briefly. Walk to the chair and pause again. Retrace your steps to the three-quarter point. Pause. Complete the circle by walking back to you starting point and once again turning to look at the chair. Walk back to the chair, retrieve and sit with your piece of paper, and jot down any further thoughts or feelings that arose during your walk. Images, associations and/or memories might come to mind while doing the walking and pausing. Record these.

Know that your right brain speaks in symbols and metaphors, and these are the intuitive gifts that you can unwrap by taking time, as the Buddhists would say, to accept, distill and rest. Invoke a feeling of gratitude for whatever gifts your subconscious, intuitive mind has given you. Perhaps summarize your reflections in an easy-to-remember-affirmation that you can call to mind throughout the day. Perform any actions your insights have prompted. The more you cultivate your intuitive mind and act on your insights, the greater power you have to transcend your inner saboteurs — those menacing monsters of uncultivated imagination and uncontrolled emotions that stunt your spiritual growth.

Remember, they’re nothing but a pile of old clothes.

Aum Namah Sivayah

LET THERE BE LIGHT

Nov. 29,2023

“On March 15, 1667, Louis XIV made Gabriel Nicolas de la Reynie the Lieutenant General of Police, entrusting him with the task of making Paris more safe. In addition to quadrupling the number of policemen in the city, one of the measures was to install more lighting. Lanterns were placed on almost every main street and residents were asked to light their windows with candles and oil lamps. The idea was to prevent lawbreakers from dodging the police or hiding in dark alleys, therefore reducing the crime rate. From here on, the city gained the nickname La Ville-Lumière (‘The City of Light’).” (Culture Trip Tours website)

After a hectic but ultimately fulfilling day, packed with information that was too dense to process at bedtime, I went on Amazon and bought the first escapist book, $2.99 on Kindle, that I could find — the hook being the word “Paris” in the title — which at least promised some daydream-worthy descriptions of the ‘City of Light’ and ‘Love’.

Indeed, proving that age is a state of mind, the lovelorn, thirty-five year old protagonist begins the prologue with: “The only thing worse than having a mid-life crisis is finding out about it from your dad”, and who, having thus self-diagnosed, concludes with: “I felt about a hundred years old”…”A withering antique, dusty from lack of use and no longer relevant. That was the day I decided to go to Paris.”

Always keen on escapism, I woke at 4:00 a.m. the following morning, pondering Paris’s appeal to generations of seekers and dreamers. I was particularly curious about its universal association with Light, as Light and its symbolism feature prominently in the yogic teachings. The Culture Trip quote continues with:

“From the late 18th century to the 19th century, the city of Paris became increasingly known as a centre of education and ideas throughout the whole of Europe, inspiring poets, philosophers, engineers and scientists galore. As well as the gradual increase in wattage, this context of innovation and enlightenment is what helped reinforce the symbolic significance of Paris as ‘The City of Light’.”

(Further digging revealed less salutary connotations for how Paris became known as the City of Love. Due to various socio-economic factors in mid-to-late 18th century Paris, prostitution was rampant, so much so that the label “City of Love” became a cynical epithet for what was actually considered the Brothel of Europe. But that’s for another blog. Or never.)

How is this relevant to my theme of “leading an examined life”? Because who isn’t looking for a haven of light and love? Add peace, hope and joy to the mix and we have our wish list for Christmas. But it’s not surprising that, depending on our circumstances, the holiday season can intensify a sense of grief and loss, despite the promise of sugar plum fairies and grög. The pressure to exude comfort and joy can be daunting for those struggling with any number of difficulties. Long chilly nights and short gray days can evoke Paris in its unenlightened age. Like the thieves who stalked her too-dark city streets, a mind burdened with too many concerns needs a source of illumination to recognize and transcend thoughts that rob one of energy and momentum.

For me, illumination comes from tracking my footprints in my journal, and then, via spiritual practice (mantra, meditation, dream work, Light invocations), surrendering these cares to a higher intelligence or energy — my divine committee. Reviewing my journal helps identify the traps I set for myself, and then mindfully loosen negative thought patterns and habits that create a sense of discontent.

As you know, my personal (and minor) loss has been that of mobility; which my imagination tells me will be compounded by trying to celebrate the holidays in Whistler as we have done for the last twenty plus years. The multiple steps up to our cabin, likely coated with ice and snow, are apt to pose a challenge. As will gift shopping, provisioning, cooking, and getting any type of exercise. First world problems all, I nonetheless struggle with a feeling of impotence, of identifying with the protagonist’s self-description: “a withering antique, dusty from lack of use and no longer relevant”.

Such are the rabbit holes I can fall into without the yogic tools I have been focusing on in these blogs. I remind myself of what Swami Radhananda wrote in the introduction to the yoga of healing, which is an excellent guide to ‘enlightening’ the senses, one’s windows of perception:

“Yoga brings us to wholeness. The benefit of coming into health and wholeness through self-awareness is that we stop being just a body — needy, grasping, selfish — and become a living being in the process of gaining wisdom and compassion. This is where we need to develop faith and devotion to seriously be involved with subtle lightness of being. When you do everything in your power to keep your focus on the Light, and bring Light to each person in your life, then you are being responsible for your health and having a positive effect on others. The more positive view we have, the more positive effects we can have on the world around us.”

It takes effort to flip negative thoughts into positives, to change knee-jerk reactions that no longer serve me into considered responses. But it’s worth it. Just as, seen in another light, my lack of mobility can be a not-so-hidden blessing. I can let others take on my “traditional” stress-inducing roles while I sit back and relax by the fire with our grandchildren! Bring on the sugar plums and grög!

PS There aren’t actually two dots over the ‘o’ in grog, but I think there should be.

THE LAW OF ATTRACTION

“L’ingratitude attire les reproches, commme la reconnaissance attire de nouveau bienfaits.” Madame de Sévigné

Though the French don’t celebrate an official Thanksgiving (as it is done in Canada on the second Monday in October, and in the United States on the third Thursday of November), gratitude is a universal language that speaks volumes through its expression in words and gestures. The above quote by Mme de Sévigné, part of an online French course that I vow to study seriously and then forget immediately, can be summed up in English to mean “like attracts like”. More literally translated, it means that ingratitude attracts disappointment, whereas gratitude attracts further benefits. Such a self-evident truth can be easily dismissed with an everybody knows that complacency that erodes the importance of actually living it.

How often do we ask ourselves, when confronted with an unwelcome event or outcome, if it is a result of something we’ve said or done; our karma, so to speak? Conversely, when something desirable happens, can we see the train of thoughts and action that attracted it? Can we model our behavior after the qualities we find attractive in other people? Their kindness and consideration; their empathy and generosity? How else to become the truly human (goodness-embodied) beings we have the potential to be? How can we “people” our world with individuals whose values align with our own, whose goals mirror what we are trying to achieve?

For a superficial but memorable example of the law of attraction, I recall what once happened while traveling in France. I bought a deep-blue satin dress in a charming market town, and while wandering the cobblestone streets I mentally conjured the ideal piece of costume jewelry to accessorize my new purchase. I wanted something colourful and chunky, like random-sized pop-beads, but not the cheap plastic variety. To my happy surprise I stumbled on just such a necklace of bright red ceramic beads separated by tiny gold spacers. I was elated. And not a little surprised that I should find something so close to what I had imagined. I immediately began to mentally conjure up bigger and better things I wished to make manifest in three dimensions. (You can imagine how that went…)

Since then, having learned to temper my expectations, it still sometimes happens that I “magically” stumble upon things or people I want or need to find. This serendipity keeps me watching out for signs or affirmations that I’m on the right track with any decisions or choices I’m in the process of making, including my deliberations regarding my gimpy hip.

While I think it’s due to divine grace more than my own flawless behavior, I am exceedingly thankful for the way friends (near and far — I’m a bit of a complainer) have come to my aid when my hip became particularly painful. Help came in the form of walking aids (which I was initially too proud to use), and detailed information about surgical options (about which I was in denial). I was even introduced to a respected orthopaedic surgeon who holds occasional clinic hours in Waimea. Without the latter showing me an X-ray of my bone-on-bone hip I might’ve been willing to wait for a now-imminent hip replacement. The serendipity didn’t stop there. I was also compelled (again, reluctantly) to see a myofascial trigger point release therapist who literally got me back on my feet. It strikes me as no coincidence that I have benefitted from some impeccably timed “interventions”. Left to my own resources I’d probably crawl under a rock (a version of my head-in-the-sand tendency) or get addicted to street OxyContin.

I’ve also considered the role of Providence in these happy-chance meetings. Goethe’s poem on Committment comes to mind:

“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation) there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too.

“All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issue from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.”

Whether it be the law of attraction or an intense commitment to relief and healing, (perhaps they’re the same thing), I’m now suffused with gratitude that these unforeseen incidents, meetings and assistance have been raised in my favor. If I’m committed to anything it is to paying forward the benefits I’ve received in whatever ways I am able. Which included sending a big, heartfelt thank-you to my entire blog Ohana, for all the support and encouragement you have given me as I navigate my physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual journey. You do not go unnoticed.

Alors, levons nos verres et soyons reconnaissants!
So, let’s raise our glasses and be grateful!

COMMITMENT

“You will always have highs and lows in life, and you will have them in your spiritual life. Don’t think you will always be riding the crest of the wave. When you do that, spiritual life is easy. But when you are down in a valley and you think the big wave is coming down to crush you, that’s when you have to stand up and look at your commitment and remind yourself. Put yourself into the Light. Bring Light into your life and into your dark corners of selfishness and self-importance. What you are committing yourself to is eternal life. The choice to do that is yours.” (Swami Sivananda Radha, Time to be Holy)

As with most mornings, I started today’s centering practice outside in our pai pai, just before sunrise. The palm trees across from me cut dark silhouettes against the weak early light. Now, only an hour later, I note the greening of my surroundings; everything taking on its usual colour and vibrancy as my mind takes on a hopeful approach to the day. I take the scene unfolding in front of me and explore its symbolic meanings. I move away from the black and white thinking with which I sometimes wake into a more open and receptive mental space. Today I reflect on how appearances shift with the presence or absence of light, and what that suggests about my own positive or negative states of mind. What would it mean to shine the light of insight and understanding on issues and problems? What part does intuition play in my approach to people and situations? It is this line of thinking that brings to mind Swami Radha’s comments in her chapter on Commitment: “Bring Light into your dark corners of selfishness and self importance. What you are committing yourself to is eternal life.”

Am I?

Swami Radha’s teachings intentionally raise as many questions as answers. If not more. It’s also ironic that I have, in reading Time to be Holy, encountered the metaphor of big waves two weeks in a row, especially since we’ve been having bigger than usual waves here in Hawaïi. Is it possible to be figuratively crushed by the weight of too many opinions? Too much talk about what is right and what is not?

Later this morning, as I swam lengths to mobilize my stiff hips, I reflected on how lucky I am to have access to a pool at a time when walking is challenging. (A new hip is in my future). I thought of the now-homeless people in Maui. Of the families suffering in Ukraine, and the Middle East. Sadness for all the things I cannot change slowed my stroke to a snail’s pace, (or whichever aquatic creature hardly moves — perhaps a sea cucumber!) as other questions presented themselves:

“How does my sadness serve the world? How do depression or discouragement, regarding what I see and read, help anybody?”

The answer came immediately: “They do not serve. Not at all.” Nor does “playing it small”.

As Marianne Williamson (now running for president of the US) writes in A Return to Love. “Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn’t serve the world.”

Williamson’s reference to it being our light, not our darkness that frightens us, stimulates a shift in perspective once again. Rather than wallow in survivor guilt, in worry for the bleak state of the world, another possibility is open to me. I can light my surroundings with an example of gratitude and generosity. Of patience and tolerance, compassion and positivity. I can emanate joy and happiness. Might I, as Paramahansa Yogananda writes: “take only the good from my life experiences, and preserve only the good in my memory”?

And, by thus shining my light, am I making a commitment to eternal life?

Are you?