LIVE AND LEARN
“The stuff of the mind is so subtle compared to concrete items that are easily given away. When I follow the memories back, I realize the mind holds the even subtler substance of learnings from those experiences. Through reflection and spiritual practice, the learnings of life can be extracted.” (Swami Radhananda, Living the Practice)
I woke this morning to the raucous cries of seagulls wheeling in a sky saturated with fog and rain. The semi-opaque mist rendered invisible the dozen or so freighters anchored in the bay; nothing distinguishing the ocean from the horizon from the sky. But the outside temperature was mild and the staccato tapping of raindrops on the deck brought back memories of rainy days looking after our four young children at Alberta’s Pigeon Lake.
On the one hand a rainy summer day gave us a break from the dawn-to-dusk activity of a growing family, while on the other, the effort required to entertain restless toddlers in a too-confined space was the price I paid. This is not unlike the effort required to reel in a restless mind when confined to an in-need-of-recovery body.
As I write my body is covered in “swimmers’ itch-type hives, and my baby finger is swollen like a sausage from some kind of insect bite. So much so that I took a baking soda-infused bath at 4:00 this morning, and thereafter a Benadryl that knocked me out until moments ago, while I try to rouse myself for my online yoga class.
These minor discomforts can all too often degenerate into a woe-is-me melancholy such that flashbacks to our Pigeon Lake days take on the golden glow of the good old days, (where I’m pretty sure we also got swimmers’ itch) and throws a dark cast over the present moment.
In Living the Practice, Swami Radhananda offers an antidote to getting lost in lugubrious (such a fabulous onomatopoeic word) thoughts:
“There is no need to carry a trunkload of stuff into each relationship or each action. Instead, focus the mind on the moment. Cut the ties of old hurts and memories and images and see the situation you are working with now. The challenge is to continue to create new memories, not be bound by old ones.”
By way of following her advice, I started to watch my thoughts as I went about my Tuesday. Not surprisingly, much of the time I found myself carrying on an inner dialogue that distracted me from truly engaging with the people and activities at hand. This raised the question: “Who is doing the inner talking and who is doing the inner listening?” This brought to mind Michael Singer’s “maniacal inner room mate” in Untethered Soul:
“There are two distinct aspects of your inner being. The first is you, the awareness, the witness, the center of your willful intentions; and the other is that which you watch. The problem is, the part that you watch never shuts up. If you could get rid of that part, even for a moment, the peace and serenity would be the nicest vacation you ever had.”
Swami Radhananda calls that peace and serenity the Divine Moment, a moment when one’s experience is not biased by the inner dialogue, and instead is open to a fresh, open-hearted engagement with life. All of the wisdom teachings I have studied say the same thing in their own way: Sharon Salzberg calls it equanimity. Pema Chödrön talks in terms of having no reference point. Ram Das sums it up with “Be. Here. Now.” And Hindu Vedanta named it Satchitananda, the “Ultimate Reality” or “being, consciousness, bliss”. Clear as mud? I know I seem to have lost the plot.
But what I do know for sure is that I have a ways to go before I am adept at taming my monkey mind. But from the rare divine moments that I’ve experienced, I know it’s worth a try. It requires nothing less than a commitment to “getting over” myself and shutting up my inner roommate’s constant commentary. No wonder Swami Radha calls it the pearl of great price!
Now to create some new memories by heading over to the Harmony Arts Festival for a tribute to CCR’s John Fogerty, and some old time rock and roll. Fortunate me.