A yogini at large

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?

RISE ABOVE

“Look at your life sometime from a cosmic view: here is this whole cosmos and there, somewhere, are you. What do these things really matter? Your needs for exaggeration and self-importance are insignificant. You have to learn to step away from yourself and see that, because where will you be if every grain of sand becomes a big issue? And really the events of daily life are only insignificant grains of sand.”
(Swami Sivananda Radha, Time to be Holy)

Early the other morning we went boating with some friends to look for dolphins and manta rays, and do some snorkeling. I had woken up with a bee in my bonnet (really, that’s such an evocative metaphor!) that kept me from registering the exotic scenery, or truly engaging with present company. At one point I gazed off into the distance where I picked out the gauzy shape of Mauna Kea, with its modest crown of observatories, looming behind the darker and more distinct pu’u of Uluweuweu. Suddenly the thought occurred to me to “just rise above”, as does this misty mountain peak, and seek that third person omniscient perspective that Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche describes in Meditation in Action. (At the moment I can’t find the exact quote!)

Trungpa urges the student to objectively observe situations and relationships from a higher perspective (as from the press gallery at a hockey game). From this higher, more detached vantage point one is asked to witness one’s own behavior, and that of the other person or persons, without attachment to any particular opinion or idea. It could be considered playing your own devil’s advocate. Or perhaps a divine advocate — one who can do such mental gymnastics as to truly see and understand another person’s POV, while not necessarily condoning or agreeing. I have often read that, if someone’s behavior triggers an emotional reaction in me, it might be that I too have that shadow aspect in me. Is it possible, when I think someone else is being unreasonable, in fact, a real jerk, that I am seeing a reflection of some unconscious part of myself? If I then ask myself what I would have the other person know or do, can I then apply that information to my own behavior?

It sometimes takes a very little shift on my part to effect a positive change in a relationship. Giving others the benefit of the doubt can change the dynamics between us even if I don’t understand what it is that irritates me or stirs a negative reaction. In Time to be Holy Swami Radha advises:

“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.”

That momentum comes from the effort I make to rise above my own petty irritations and narrow perceptions. My attempts to increase my self-awareness, my compassion and my capacity to forgive benefit nobody more than myself.

As one of my fellow paddlers said, “we’re all in this canoe together, and we must learn to paddle as part of a team.”

Kahuna Nui Hale Kealohalani Makua – “Love all you see, including yourself.” — Hale Makua

HEALING

“The world we are living in needs healing — the healing qualities of positivity, silence, relaxation, care, compassion and cooperation. We hear daily reports in the news of people in pain, hunger and poverty, of killings, sickness and death. When negativity and greed tip the balance, the world becomes an unhealthy place to live, lacking the physical and spiritual resources to care for people. We often feel helpless and separate from the rest of humanity. But remember that we are not separate beings. We can cultivate our emotions, use our intuition and forgive. We need to consciously access the will to bring healing forces into the world in which we live and into ourselves”. (Swami Radhananda: forward to the yoga of healing Timless Books, 2016)

As with probably every literate person in the western world, I have been deeply disturbed and saddened by the news coming out of the Middle East. Much as I prefer a “head in the sand” approach, (what with all this Hawaiian sand to be had), I know that that is not a viable response to what is happening globally, and — most especially — locally. So I look to the yoga of healing authored by my teacher, Swami Sivananda Radha, for more constructive ideas:

“The power in healing is that even though we are in a painful situation, we don’t flinch. We incorporate, we embrace. As we live through these experiences we note the pain, our reactions and our resolve to be clear, to learn and do our best in the situation. Whatever we can do to heal keeps the learning positive and supportive. In doing so, we will gain a sense of victory and an understanding of what life is really about”.

An understanding of what life is really about is my motivation for blogging and, in general, for leading an examined life. The practices offered in the yoga of healing provide a structure upon which to build such a life, one that combines action and reflection with a view, as Gandhi would say, to being the change I wish to see in the world today.

Self-observation is perhaps the cornerstone to building what Swami Radha calls one’s cathedral of consciousness. As with any sacred refuge, one does not want the surrounding gardens to be choked with weeds and debris. But that is often what figuratively blocks our access to inner, healing energies. If I am to recruit my own healing energies, I am challenged to confront the inner filters and distortions that overshadow my powers of observation, my ability to see what is actually happening, and then address whatever seeds of negativity I may have sown in the world. Swami Radha would call that clearing karma.

In order to clear karma I keep a daily journal to track my footprints and review where I have succeeded, where I have erred, and candidly assess what to keep, what to change, and with what to do away.

Swami Radha advises:

“Record the events of the day — what has happened, what has not happened, but also what you had wanted to happen. What are the actions [including watching/reading too much news] that have led to becoming upset or emotional? Can you recognize the roots and cut them off, thereby changing your attitude and allowing for new insights and a new approach? Such a discipline will develop in you an ability to concentrate and to renounce the intruding forces of self-importance and all the other ego manifestations that divide giving and receiving, birth and death, light and dark.”

The above is very à propós my efforts to improve our kitchen/dining/living hale — aka the heart and soul of our cottage —while having to contend with those invasive palm roots. They were exposed at a time when I had other more subtle (but equally invasive) issues to deal with in my personal life. I had to dig deep enough to see how unconscious thoughts and mechanical habits, plus the ever-baneful power of self-suggestion were conspiring to threaten my relationships and weaken mind and body. In so doing, I unearthed a powerful source of energy and inspiration to, among other things, share the tools and teachings that have helped me navigate my earthly journey.

I cannot concur more strongly with Swami Radha, or encourage you more sincerely, to make your inner garden the place you begin to respond to the world’s problems. It is a landscape rich with possibilities for expanding your awareness and increasing the effectiveness of whatever your endeavors. As Radhananda writes:

“We need to consciously access the will to bring healing forces into the world in which we live and into ourselves.”

Consistent self observation, in the context of a spiritual study and practice, is a highly effective route to doing just that: becoming the leaders and healers we all have the potential to be.

Now back to unpacking. Chop wood, carry boxes.

ROOTS

“This path of using life to evolve spiritually is truly the highest path.” (Michael Singer Untethered Soul)

Since the middle of summer the royal We have been renovating our cottage in Hawaii. As with all such undertakings, challenges have arisen that we had not anticipated, one of which was an accumulation of palm tree roots that were pushing up the walkway and even threatening the foundation of the building (called a hale in Hawaiian). After the trunk was cut in sections and removed, several days were spent severing the thin, stick-like lateral roots that had spread in all directions. As the excavator dug deeper, it revealed a mind-boggling network of roots wrapped bristle brush-like around the base of the stubbornly resisting stump. Quite the undertaking.

If ever I needed a literal image of what Singer meant by old, ingrained thought patterns clogging up the “ground” of the psyche, this was it. He describes it thus:

"You take a set of thoughts in the mind and you hold onto them. You make a highly complex relational structure out of them, and then present that package as who you are. But it is not who you are. It is just the thoughts you have pulled around yourself in an attempt to define yourself.”…and…”If you dare to look, you will see that you live your entire life based on the model you built around yourself.” 

According to Singer, we cling to this arbitrary construction, this self-created identity as if our lives depend on it. And as far as the ego is concerned, we do.

When circumstances agree with my ego’s model of what is acceptable or desirable, I believe my life is running smoothly. When events conspire to upset this carefully curated self-concept, I resist them, with vigour. Why? They’re just arbitrary ideas of how I think things should, could or ought to be. These concepts are unnecessarily limiting. Worse still, to whatever extent things don’t go as I want or need in order to preserve my self-image, I experience pain and suffering. Singer offers this advice:

“You must look inside yourself and determine that from now on pain is not a problem. It is just a thing in the universe. Somebody can say something to you that can cause your heart to react and catch fire, but then it passes. It’s a temporary experience. Most people can hardly imagine what it would be like to be at peace with inner disturbance. But if you do not learn to be comfortable with it, you will devote your life to avoiding it. If you feel insecurity, it’s just a feeling. You can handle a feeling. If you feel embarrassed, it’s just a feeling. It’s just a part of creation. If you feel jealousy and your heart burns, just look at it objectively, like you would a mild bruise. It’s a thing in the universe that is passing through your system. Laugh at it, have fun with it, but don’t be afraid of it. It cannot touch you unless you touch it.”

Of course in theory I am keen to have everyday irritations pass through me, and presumably lots do. But, as Singer is at pains (pardon the pun) to point out, some of these irritations do not pass so easily, because they are connected — like those tenacious lateral roots — to past traumas that I’ve barricaded in my body, so as not to feel their full impact. Now they lay in wait for something to hit the spot where I’ve hidden them, and the result is far more painful than if I’d been able to let them pass immediately after they happened.

The other day one such reaction pointed me to Singer’s theory about buried, volatile energies. Somebody made a comment that “set my heart on fire”, and my ego went on a rampage looking for ways to defend/assuage this achy-breaky feeling. Singer offers this explanation:

"It is because deep inside there is pain that you have not processed. Your attempt to avoid this pain has created layer upon layer of sensitivities that are all linked to the hidden pain.”

Hence a seemingly innocuous comment penetrated the layers I had built around some ancient emotional injury, and my gut reaction was to stop the buried feelings from emerging at all cost. But, given Singer’s guidance, I saw the incident as an opportunity to evolve. Daring to look more deeply into these disturbed energies, I was able to see their roots in childhood experiences of censure or rejection. As an adult I have other ways of dealing with fresh or ancient disturbance, such as patience, tolerance, acceptance, forgiveness and compassion. Any and all of these are better than a lifetime of clinging to old emotional baggage under the illusion that it will protect me from pain.

Instead of fighting back when my model was attacked, I quietly waited for the fire to burn itself out, which it did much faster than I could have imagined. In its place came a sense of freedom, of release from that egoic palm tree in my psyche.

Happy Halloween!

CAN I? WILL I?

“Finally, exasperated, I asked her if after 107 years she had any advice for younger people. She looked up at me, eyes flashing. “Yes,” she shot back. “Life is short. Don’t run so fast you miss it.” (Dan Buttner, The Blue Zones Quotes)

At 73, I’m in the throes of making minor lifestyle adjustments that I’m hoping will yield major results. I say minor because I’m aware of a tendency to set major goals for myself, only to start too fast and lose momentum half way through. The more ambitious the goal, the lower the likelihood that I’ll see it through. What can derail me is the sheer, intimidating mass of the undertaking. So, now to break it down into simple, chewable bites. And recruit the help I need to do so.

It’s the same when facing any daunting task, as was cleaning out a basement full of storage in order to move homes a couple of years ago. So as not to get derailed in our move to the condo, I recruited the services of a friend and lifestyle manager, the lovely Louise, to help me work through things one small task at a time. With each small accomplishment a momentum began building. Increment by increment we tackled the whole basement, and other rooms besides, all the while having a good time. At one point, mired in piles of old photos, Louise sensed me freezing up and gently asked: “What’s happening for you right now?” What was happening was my being drawn down a rabbit hole of old memories, overwhelmed at the speed with which so many decades had passed. And not a little overcome with a sense of urgency, in my eighth decade, to make the best of the time I had left.

Perhaps this is what resonated when I later encountered Dan Buttner’s Blue Zones series on Netflix, and the words of the 107 year old crone: “Life is short. Don’t run so fast you miss it.”

Robert Kane, another Blue Zones advocate, offers this advice:

“Rather than exercising for the sake of exercising, try to make changes to your lifestyle. Ride a bicycle instead of driving. Walk to the store instead of driving. Use the stairs instead of the elevator. Build that into your lifestyle. The chances are that you will sustain that behavior for a much longer time. And the name of the game here is sustaining. These things that we try — usually after some cataclysmic event has occurred, and we now want to ward off what seems to be the more perceptible threat of dying — don’t hold up over the long haul. We find all sorts of reasons not to do it.”

This advice is counterintuitive to the inner script I’ve been following — or should I say running to — for many years. That script was about ticking boxes and chalking up achievements as if rehearsing for the role of Super-Human Being. In the process, as the saying goes, my mind was writing chèques that my body couldn’t cash. Most recently, my hip is paying the price for that over-ambition. Even as I was told to pace my PRP recovery slowly, to resume my physical activity by small, incremental steps, I perversely tried to prove I could get back to my prior fitness routines as soon as possible.

Too much, too soon. And my orthopedist was not at all pleased.

While exhorting others to become more introspective, it took an embarrassing exchange with my orthopedist for me to understand the “why” of leading an examined life. I had been focusing on a tiny subset of life, my fitness/self-image, under the illusion that to constantly “best” myself is to justify my existence. Not so. Rather than constantly searching for a sense of purpose, or asking what to do with the time I have left, all I really need do is apply in daily life what I’ve gleaned from decades of transpersonal studies and training. Be my own laboratory and take small, reproducable steps in the desired direction.

This brings us to my proclaimed “minor lifestyle adjustment”. My goal is to pace myself as I incorporate the things I’m learning from the Blue Zones folk about well-rounded diets, exercise, and lifestyle. Rather than letting the fear of mortality drive me to ever greater achievements, ever more “enriching” experiences, my new goal is be fully engaged in daily life, establish healthful longevity habits, and sustain them for as long as possible.

Can I? Will I? Stay tuned…

EXPECTATIONS 

Me (to the stranger standing next to me at the breakfast buffet): “So how’s your day going?” 

His reply: “It’s going fine. But then, I set a fairly low bar.” 

This seemingly innocuous comment made by a fellow hotel guest has nonetheless had quite a lasting effect. It often comes to mind when I find myself stewing about an outcome that didn’t quite go as desired. When that happens, I am compelled to ask myself why I think the events of daily life must conform to my particular “bar” in order for me to be satisfied, or happy? Upon reflection, it occurs to me that learning to manage expectations is one of the more daunting “growth tasks” one encounters when aspiring to lead an examined life. 

So much of my conditioning, and indeed what I continue to see in magazines, films and on social media, biases me against accepting the harsher aspects of reality, the things that don’t fit my script. It also goes against what Michael Singer says about happiness: 

 ​“The real question is whether you want to be happy regardless of what happens. The purpose of your life is to enjoy and learn from your experiences. You were not put on Earth to suffer. You’re not helping anybody by being miserable. Regardless of your philosophical beliefs, the fact remains that you were born and you are going to die. During the time in between, you get to choose whether or not you want to enjoy the experience. Events don’t determine whether or not you’re going to be happy. They’re just events. You determine whether or not you’re going to be happy. You can be happy just to be alive. You can be happy having all these things happen to you, and then be happy to die. If you can live this way, your heart will be so open and your Spirit will be so free, that you will soar up to the heavens.” 

Singer claims that making the decision to stay happy, to stay open and embrace all of life’s experiences — good, bad or indifferent — with an open heart, is actually a very high spiritual calling. So, ever the sceptic, I’ve been experimenting with that calling. I’ve been learning to more easily let go of my personal opinions and subjective ideas of how things could, should, or ought to be, and instead let others’ suggestions or preferences take priority. (Or at least listen to them for five minutes.) In the short time that I’ve been practicing this new habit, the results have been surprisingly gratifying. 

An example might be choosing to relinquish my role of hosting Thanksgiving weekend at our cabin in Whistler. This is a tradition we have observed since building what was meant to be our primary residence in 1993. (Our then teenaged children rebelled and we instead rented in the city for the next couple of decades!) 

The decision taken to spend the holiday in the city confronted me with the changing dynamics of our growing-up family. Being ever the mother hen, (or mama bear, depending on the “threat”) I like nothing better that having our various and assorted family members breaking bread together. There were so many reasons why this year had to be different. Not least of which was the fact that there were to be twenty-four of us in number. Gone are the days of stacking kids in every available nook and cranny. Some of the grandkids are now tweenies or teens, and all of them value their privacy! 

An additional wrinkle to celebrating at the cabin was the recovery time I needed for my hip to heal. This ruled out climbing the multiple steps it would take just to get to said cabin, along with whatever hiking, biking (or dancing, you never know..) I might have wanted to do while up there. It also ruled out standing in the kitchen all day, orchestrating dinner for two dozen loved ones. 

As you’ve read in a previous blog, the inactivity imposed for my hip recovery was highly frustrating. Not just because I missed my fitness routines, but also, I realized in retrospect, because I suffered from a lack of control. Simply put, my expectation of how Thanksgiving should be did not conform to the reality. The only way I was going to enjoy the holiday — versus pining for the past — was to embrace and make the best of the new situation. With an open heart and mind. This I did, with more ease and equanimity that I thought possible for a control freak like me. In the end, my daughter took on the cast of thousands on the Friday, and I was able to produce “Thanksgiving Lite”, on Sunday, when half of our number went elsewhere. 

It wasn’t quite Singer’s “soaring up to the heavens”, but for each cherished belief that I was able to relinquish, there was an equal degree of freedom from stale-dated, “just because” routines that no longer served everybody. It ushered in a renewed sense of collaboration that took into account the various agendas of our (mildly outspoken) family members. 

And I didn’t even have to lower the bar!