Category: Everyday practices

Don’t Hit the Fast-forward Button

November 2, 2020

4 Noble Truths, Equanimity, Everyday practices, fearlessness, impermanence, not abandoning, Self-care, self-compassion, The Eight Worldly Winds, The End of craving, Thich Nhat Hanh

Buddha with cranes, photo by Celia

“And the Blessed One addressed the bhikkhus, saying: “Behold now, bhikkhus, I exhort you: All compounded things are subject to vanish. Strive with earnestness!”[58]
This was the last word of the Tathagata.”
~”Maha-parinibbana Sutta: Last Days of the Buddha” (DN 16), translated from the Pali by Sister Vajira & Francis Story

For everything there is a season,
and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.
~Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
(English Standard Version Bible)

Dear friends,

Last week, I honestly looked at my desires and saw how much I wanted to fast forward life, to be past this election, past the pandemic. I wanted it over and was not looking forward to living through the process of having these things unfold moment by moment. I had real resistance to this pain of uncertainty and the not knowing. When I was able to stay present with the discomfort with compassion, something shifted. I don’t know exactly the catalyst. I do know that there was a moment of joy when I recognized that I have been taught how to hold my suffering. I know what to do and I am doing it.

There is a joy that comes when we do not abandon ourselves, when we have the confidence to stay present and to say, “I got you. I am here for you, no matter what.” I come back to this self-compassion over and over. It is the most transformative and powerful medicine I have received from my practice. Showing up and knowing that no matter how good or how bad, I have the resources to stay.

The Buddha’s teaching on the Eight Worldly Winds, also called the vicissitudes, has helped me put my experience into perspective. 2,600 years ago, the Buddha said, “Monks, these eight worldly conditions spin after the world, and the world spins after these eight worldly conditions. Which eight? Gain, loss, status, disgrace, censure, praise, pleasure, & pain. These are the eight worldly conditions that spin after the world, and the world spins after these eight worldly conditions. (Lokavipatti Sutta: The Failings of the World, T. Bhikkhu, trans.)”

In this ancient teaching, we can see the universality of loss and pain. We encounter this in the first Noble Truth, that suffering, or stress exists. We also know that there are causes and reasons for suffering. This is the second Noble Truth. When we see the causes for suffering and discomfort in our lives, this gives us understanding and clarity. Recognizing these conditions leads us to the Third Noble Truth, that there is the opposite of suffering. The law of impermanence teaches that nothing can exist forever, this too will change. It cannot stay the same.

I can feel lots of compassion for us as a country and a world, longing for this pandemic to end, longing for racial justice, for change, for hope. And I remember a teaching by Buddhist nun Pema Chodron who was caught in distress. Her teacher asked her to notice the years of habits it took to for her to get into that state and to know it would take a while to get out. As a country, we have been planting the painful and violent seeds of racial inequality for more than 400 years. It takes time to uproot those dangerous vines long interwoven in the culture of America. This requires staying with the frustration, the discomfort, and the exhaustion. If we know how to show up when we are in pain, we will have more ability to be the hand that risks discomfort by pulling out the creeping thorns by the roots.

When we leave our experience, we lose the opportunity to develop trust in ourselves. As we learn to stay with the difficult and painful with compassion, we also learn how to titrate—not to exceed our capacity—to have a touch and go relationship with suffering that can help us to stay in self-trust. This is already the Fourth Noble Truth, stepping onto the path of practice ascribed by the Buddha. This path is powerful medicine to strengthen us against the forces that can overwhelm and destabilize our minds and hearts.

In 2013, Thich Nhat Hanh gave a series of retreats titled, The Art of Suffering. I remember him saying that he would never want his children to go to heaven if there were no suffering there. They needed suffering—a little bit, not too much—to grow and to stretch. They also needed to experience suffering to know what the end of suffering feels like. There could be no heaven if there was no opposite of heaven. This is the law of non-duality. Nothing can exist by itself alone. It needs a counterbalance or opposite to allow it to be known.

In the retreat, Thay spoke about staying present with our suffering, owning it, being available for it. When I want to fast forward through my life and wish it all away, I deny that I have competency and the presence to take care of myself. I forget my own resilience and strength and dodge whatever I see coming out of fear and reactivity instead of taking a breath, feeling my feet on the ground and connecting with my deepest intention, the realization of cessation, freedom, or nibbana. When I know suffering, and also know my own ability to accompany myself, I know the end of suffering.

Liberation is the act of non-abandoning is a way I show myself kindness and trust. I trust that I can be there for me. I trust that my presence liberates myself from the prison of helplessness, from rushing through. I can call upon my supports, my ancestors and those I admire who have lived through wars, through oppression, through situations that I have not experienced in my life time and they still found their freedom. Freedom is a way to reclaim our power.

The more our culture is infiltrated by algorithms that direct us towards what to feel, what to believe, who to trust, the more we are manipulated by what is outside of us. Returning to ourselves, to reclaim our freedom and our innate goodness is a radical act of self-accompaniment. We are truly free when we know that we have our own support no matter what comes, and we are ready, excited even to meet that challenges of accompanying ourselves.

When we have touched the benefits of practice, of meditation, stillness, and centering, we are able to return to the place in us. We learn over time that this is not dependent upon conditions. It is determined by our commitment to our own liberation, our own enlightenment. Enlightenment is the promise that we are born with the ability to live in the classroom of our lives and to learn what is necessary for us. Enlightenment is the stilling and the end of our desire to make this moment any different. We do this practice, not by giving up, but by straightening up.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

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Standing Up and Coming Home

June 22, 2020

Activism, Everyday practices, racism, stopping, Taking refuge in ourselves, Thich Nhat Hanh

Lion’shead Peony, Photo by Celia

“I stand up for you.
You stand up for me.
We stand up together.
And this is how we do it.
I care for you.
You care for me.
We care together.
This is how we do it.” ~Larry Ward, Senior Dharmacharya

“We all have to suffer less in order to restore some kind of balance within ourselves. Only then can we engage in meaningful and collective efforts to build peace in the world.” ~ Thich Nhat Hanh, Calming the Fearful Mind: A Zen Response to Terrorism

“I am part of this universe. The air is part of this universe. With each breath, the universe changes. With each inhale, the universe changes. With each exhale, the universe changes.” ~Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche, In Love With the World: A Monk’s Journey Through the Bardo’s of Living and Dying.

Dear Friends,

These are exciting and unprecedented times. In the recent weeks we have witnessed a world-wide awakening to responsibility and accountability. As we are called to witness Rayshard Brooks’ killing by police, we are also seeing White bodies standing with Black bodies calling for justice and change. This is a big shift and it is time. My purpose in writing this is to call us all in to witness change happening and to see that sometimes things appear to happen slowly and sometimes they appear to happen very quickly. I also want to acknowledge that unrest, fear, instability, and continuing conflict can take a very real toll on our physical and mental wellbeing. Black and Brown bodies who have lived with the understanding that they are not safe have an inherited heightened level of stress and vigilance. I have heard both outrage and a bittersweet relief that when the whole world saw the lynching of a Black man, the whole world responded with swift condemnation and mourning. This response is overdue and seeing what happened on the streets of Minneapolis and Atlanta made it very clear that living in a Black body—we are less safe in this world than if we are in a White body.

For White people right now, I have heard shock and heartbreak and there is broken trust in the system they believed supported justice. For People of Color there is the heartbreak of once again seeing oppression and murder. For all of us in this world, living with the Corona virus, job insecurity, the increasing polarization of political and social differences, all bodies are feeling this vigilance and exhaustion. We are longing for a safe home, for comfort, and predictability and finding more instability each time we turn on the news. We know that for systems to change, sometimes things need to fall apart. No political regimen, no system, no country, no being is exempt from impermanence. Change is hard on us and we are in a time of profound and rapid change. We may wonder where can we find a calm center of rest, where is home now?

Thich Nhat Hanh (2010) writes, “I don’t suffer because I’ve found my true home (p. 8).” This home is not limited to a specific location, even confined to a country. “Thanks to mindfulness, I was able to find my true home in the here and now (p. 12) …Our true home is the place without discrimination, without hatred (p. 13).” Thay tells us, when we can touch into this moment, we can rest free from worries about the past and fears about the future. The peace and stability we are able to produce in this present moment creates the next moment. Coming home to ourselves is a way to stop, rest, and heal…which we need to do in order to engage in the heavy lifting that is required of us.

As one teacher described the Buddha’s teaching on the three universal marks of existence, “Everything keeps changing; it will shake you up and it’s not personal.” Right now, we are shook. We are tired and there is more to be done. I am calling us all in to find rest in the midst of unrest, in this moment that is filled with the potential of change and with real hope. Our ability to care for ourselves and to recognize that we are already co-creating the future with each breath we take—the universe is different. Each thought we produce changes our minds and hearts. The way we think, speak, and act creates a mark on the world and on our consciousness. Our freedom is paired with responsibility which includes responsibility for caring for ourselves, for finding our own ability to come home to ourselves, to have faith that enlightenment is inevitable.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

Reference:

Nhat Hanh, T. (2010). Together we are one: Honoring diversity celebrating our connection. Parallax: Berkeley, CA.

Here are some opportunities to practice:

A link to Resmaa Menaken’s free 5 day workshop to heal racialized trauma https://www.resmaa.com/

link to an article Dharma teacher Cheri Maples wrote about being a Buddhist Cop, https://www.lionsroar.com/a-buddhist-cops-approach-to-justice/

Please click to see a sutra study offering from Dharma teacher Larry Ward:July 15^th, 7 pm, online. Join Larry as he offers study and practice with the Lokavipatti Sutta: The sutra on the Failings of the World. https://www.thelotusinstitute.org/calendar/sutra-study

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Permission to Rest

January 6, 2020

Everyday practices, Mindfulness, Patience, Resting, Self-care, Slowing down, stopping, Uncategorized

Dear Friends,

We’ve made it past the holidays and stepped into the New Year. This is the time of year when we live with less daylight and most of us spend more time indoors, especially in the bitter cold and snow. If we pay attention to what we see that in the natural world, there is something called “winter rest” that is slowly and quietly happening. The animals are in their burrows and the plants are in their dormant stage. Although they look quite still, all the while in these protected realms, there is photosynthesis and cell development going on in the buds and twigs. The trees use little water and sugar and take care of all the housekeeping involved in the growth cycle. They utilize this period of dormancy to prepare for the time ahead and the push of the lifecycle that responds to the changing conditions. If trees and plants don’t get to stop and attend to their own nutriments their lives are dramatically shortened. It’s the same way the engine that continually runs burns out earlier.

With the stripped-down landscapes, the leafless trees, and quiet gardens we have less to distract us in winter. There are no gardens to weed, no lawns to mow, or lakes we want to swim in. The cold and darkness beckon us to conserve ourselves for the longer days of spring. If we are farmers, we have a season of leisure in which to recommit to our most cherished ways of being. We all have fallow time when we can rest and restore our energy and our intentions.

Believing that there is a season of rest, may feel unrealistic or alien. In our world with electric lights, twenty-four-hour news cycles and unlimited access to technology we can be plugged in and feel productive any time of the day or night. We keep going despite the natural world which tells all the beings to slow down and rest. But true creativity and innovation don’t come from busyness. They are the children of stillness. This is the time of year we are invited to turn inward and renew our commitments to what really matters. The Buddha and sangha lived in tune with the cycles of the Earth and Shakyamuni Buddha gave a teaching on the example of Sariputta, also known as Upatissa:

“Settled at the root of a tree,

With shaven head, clad in a robe,

The elder foremost in wisdom

— Upatissa just meditates.

He has become calm and at rest,

Wise in speech and not self-centered;

He’s shaken off unwholesome states

— Like wind would leaves from a tree.

He has become calm and at rest,

Wise in speech and not self-centered;

He has plucked off unwholesome states

— Like wind would leaves from a tree.”

(Sariputta Thera: Keeping the Wheel Rolling, Thag.17.2, A.Olendzki trans, 2 November 2013, Access to Insight. BCBS Edition.) * See full license below.

I am reminded as we approach the belly of winter, of the richness of practicing with this change and with the continuation of this season. The fragility of life and impermanence become more pronounce and poignant in winter. We hear the call for quiet and are subject to the natural limitations that come with ice and snow. Our travels are restricted; we aren’t free to go when and where we choose. We learn that we are also animals whose lives are conditioned by nature.

I am sharing a poem I wrote a few years back reflecting on the ways the winter added to my practice. The conditions that can sometimes seem so hard can also teach us the patience to stay, even with change. Additionally, this season demonstrates Interbeing—our connection to this Earth and to the other beings who help create our safety and wellness.

Early Spring

Don’t let the spring come too soon for I need more winter to humble me.

Let the cold climb beneath my covers,

creep between my cells into the sinew and marrow of my cozy bed.

Give me stinging winds blasting my cheeks; shock my toes with freezing water in my boot. Keep the landscape gray, and the skeleton branches forever barren.

Let all the birds be voiceless, absent from the world now quiet as a bone. Stay frozen and bleak until I am wind carved, hollowed out, an empty log that is only contour, swept free of flesh and waiting.

When I’ve become as wanting as

a stone,

knowing there is nothing left to eat

in the frozen ground. I watch hope slip on black ice

and shatter, smash into only this, only now.

This crystal moment of things as they are and the eye blink of knowing

just how easily my shell can be broken. I see the crisp edges of helplessness

reminding me that I am not equipped to live alone in this world.

Stay until I am broken

and there is nothing to lean on and I know it’s only grace and kindness that keeps life alive.

The well must be empty before it can be filled. Let me spill it all out,

the wanting, the leaning in, the desire for change and ease and what’s around the corner. Stay until I am empty, purified, made present and whole.

Stay, until I am—just arrived.

~ Celia Landman

My wish is that we all arrive in this winter with slowness and dignity that acknowledges our connection to something greater than our small selves. We can see we too are formed by the rhythm of this cosmos and know we belong to the natural world. With that understanding, I hope that we all can embrace rest and this time of simplicity that makes ready for something new, something that will come to us without effort or strain, the insight and wisdom that arrives when we give space to just be, to stop, to rest, and to heal our lives.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

*©2005 Andrew Olendzki. You may copy, reformat, reprint, republish, and redistribute this work in any medium whatsoever, provided that: (1) you only make such copies, etc. available free of charge; (2) you clearly indicate that any derivatives of this work (including translations) are derived from this source document; and (3) you include the full text of this license in any copies or derivatives of this work. Otherwise, all rights reserved.

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The Body is Always in the Present

December 18, 2019

Everyday mindfulness, Everyday practices, Mindfulness of feelings, Mindfulness of the Body, Uncategorized

Barkhamsted Reservoir, Photo by Celia

“Drink your tea slowly and reverently, as if it is the axis on which the world earth revolves – slowly, evenly, without rushing toward the future; live the actual moment. Only this moment is life.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh”

“As soon as we wish to be happier, we are no longer happy.” ~Walter Landor

“Suffering usually relates to wanting things to be different than they are.” ~Allan Lokos

“The best way to capture moments is to pay attention. This is how we cultivate mindfulness. Mindfulness means being awake. It means knowing what you are doing.” ~Jon Kabat-Zinn

Dear Friends,

As we move closer to the holiday season and the coming year, life can seem to speed up. We are already making doctor appointments for the new year and planning, planning, planning. This is an essential part of taking care of ourselves, but planning can also interfere with our ability to be present. Whenever folks ask me how to practice present moment awareness, how to stop their minds from cartwheeling into the past and the future—the answer I give is always, start with the body.

For most of us, we have fluid patterns of opening to the time continuum. We may be driving, shopping, listening to someone else, meditating, or reading these words and our thinking self is leaning into the future, planning as a way to stay safe and protected, or leaning into the past working furiously to shift the experience of the past and develop more protection and understanding to apply to similar situations in the future. All this mental activity centers around our primary goal of staying safe. We can see that this thought process comes from the basic need to care for ourselves and our loved ones. It’s rooted in the beautiful desire to save ourselves from suffering, but the price of this activity is exhaustion. All these maneuverings don’t really do the trick. In my lifetime, I’ve spent hundreds of hours preparing defenses to debates that never happened. All these hours of mental strategizing seemed crucial at the time but in retrospect, these are hours I’ve been absent from my life.

When we come back to the body, we have the opportunity to stop what Thich Nhat Hanh calls NST, or Non-Stop Thinking. If you go to a Plum Village monastery, something extraordinary happens every fifteen minutes. A bell rings and the entire community pauses and comes back to their breath. When we do this practice of consciously stopping and settling, noticing the body, the breath, and the mind, we are in the present moment. Basic practices include stopping and breathing in awareness three times before answering the phone, or before emailing or texting. I’ve made it a practice to breathe consciously three times before beginning to drive. We can build these pauses into our day and although this practice may seem simplistic, it has a profound cumulative effect upon the relationship we have to our body and to our ability to be present.

The body responds to being remembered and attended to. The mind and feelings are constantly asking to be seen and known. In only three breaths we can bring kind attention to the body and mind. In my own practice, I’ve added an element of self-care into these three breaths. When we stop and bring this warm accompaniment to ourselves, it’s like pouring out water from a full cup, releasing the buildup of stress that we unconsciously accumulate during the day. With the first inhale, I track the phenomena in the body. As I exhale, I image all tension leaving with my out-breath, flowing through the soles of my feet into the Earth which can hold everything. With the second inhale I investigate the quality of my mind and the emotions, accepting whatever is arising. As I exhale, I acknowledge this mental state silently with “of course,” or “I understand.” With the third inhale I say silently, “here,” and with the exhale, “now.” This practice encourages the body to release physical tension and lets the emotional states know they are understood without trying to change or manipulate them away. Remembering that we are here now, reconnects us with our power to be present with the vast experience of living our lives, leaving nothing out. We learn that we can trust ourselves to care for all our feelings, the pleasant, as well as the difficult. As we work with these practices that include the body, we can extend our periods of awareness and actually do that thing called “being present.”

Another way to give ourselves the gift of presence is to create a small window of time using an hour or less to give ourselves completely to the task at hand. We can even set a timer if it helps us focus. Creating this small circle of time, we give ourselves permission to wholeheartedly do one thing whether it’s washing dishes or seeing patients. We allow ourselves to fully inhabit this window of time in our bodies, attending to what’s happening in and around us.

As we work with embodied awareness and come back to this moment, we can be playful with our attention. I enjoy asking teens what the texture of the body is at this moment: is it smooth, bubbly, spiky, sharp, soft, grainy, or rigid? And what is the color: gray, aqua, red, yellow, or purple? I’ve heard some very interesting responses and each one is unique to the person experiencing it. This type of inquiry and noting can teach us to be more stable and aware of our body’s singular vocabulary.

This body is a marvel of sensory processing. Coming back to the body means we can be alive to all our senses. We can feel the texture of the sheets as we lie in bed, the weight of the body touching the mattress, the head resting on the pillow. We can rest in the awareness of the colors of the sunset, taste the food we are eating, listen to the sounds of life all around us, smell the coffee before we drink it. When we turn our attention to the body, we automatically become present since this body is incapable of holding onto the past or projecting into the future. Doing things wholeheartedly, with our body and mind in the same place creates a source of stillness and restfulness that transcends schedules and gives us refuge even in busyness. Granting permission to focus, staying with our experience, bringing warmth and compassion to all of our experience is the path to a greater and greater capacity for presence.

For the holidays, please give yourselves the gift of your own attention and care. The more we are able to listen to ourselves without running, the more we become fluent in the language of our lives. We learn to stop leaning, to straighten and find the center where we can be with the whole of our lives, just as we are right now. The gift of acceptance, of compassion, and understanding can give us the strength to inhabit our lives fully, as they are, at this very moment.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

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Category: Everyday practices

Don’t Hit the Fast-forward Button

Standing Up and Coming Home

Permission to Rest

The Body is Always in the Present