Mudita: A Joyful Practice August 25, 2024 17:14

 If you prefer to listen to this month's offering, please click HERE for the audio link.

I recently watched a video of a friend of mine jumping out of an airplane for a tandem sky dive. It was something she has always wanted to do—it ranked #3 on her Bucket List. The small GoPro camera was focused on her face. I could hear high winds whipping and the sounds of her jubilant screams as she descended from the sky to earth.

At one point, she looked into the camera directly, smiled, and made the peace sign with her right hand. Variegated layers of blue sky surrounded her along with the flash of sunlight in the background.

The video ended shortly after her tandem master pulled the rip cord, and a bright yellow parachute gently supported their descent to the earth.

***

Last week, my daughter and son-in-law, along with a couple of their friends, attended the Bristol Renaissance Faire in Kenosha, Wisconsin. They had a great time. Dressed as wenches and pirates, they wandered among others dressed as faeries, gnomes, wizards, peasants, and jesters.

They attended a jousting tournament, consumed fried turkey legs and mead, and watched performances with fire eaters, jugglers, and magicians.

They had a blast visiting the past.

***

On Saturday, my husband and his friend, Bruce, traveled to an archery tournament near Louisville. They, along with over 100 other archers from all over the country, spent the day wandering the course and taking aim at 3-D targets. It was an especially hot day, but they enjoyed their time and friendly competition.

***

Recently, friends of mine shared photos of their trip to Paris during the 2024 Olympic games. They wandered down the Champs-Élysées, and immersed themselves in the sights and sounds of this magnificent city. They visited the Louvre Museum, the Eiffel Tower, and l’Arc de Triomphe. They were also able to attend a few Olympic events (gymnastics, beach volleyball, cycling, and swimming). Both had visited Paris before, but the city was especially vibrant and bustling with visitors from all over the world. This adventure was truly the trip of a lifetime for them.

***

Rejoicing for others is an important aspect of Buddhist practice. Mudita, which means sympathetic joy or vicarious joy, is a Sanskrit and Pali term. Mudita is the ability to experience altruistic and appreciative joy, to genuinely celebrate the happiness of others.

Rejoicing for others is a deep and meaningful practice. Depending upon the circumstances, and the people involved, sometimes mudita is easy to practice. Other times, it can be more challenging and difficult.

*

It was easy for me to be happy for my friend, Rosi. She is an adventurer at heart, so I was not surprised at all to see her jumping out of a plane at 6,000 ft. I was truly happy for her as I watched her video. I was grateful that she and her tandem master landed safely, and I could rejoice and celebrate her act of bravery and courage.

I did not feel the tug, however, of longing to jump out of a plane myself, which made experiencing vicarious joy for my friend an easy task.

*

The same goes for my daughter’s adventures. Elise has attended this Ren Faire several times with her friend, Sarah. While I enjoy seeing her photos and hearing about the events and characters she encounters, I don’t feel the need to participate in Medieval cosplay. However, I am happy to rejoice from afar…Merrily!

*

My husband loves archery—and he has ever since I’ve known him. He makes time to practice every day, and he is constantly tinkering with and adjusting his bow to improve his performance. I was happy that he and Bruce could attend this tournament, and I’m glad they enjoyed their trip.

Again, rejoicing was easy-peasy. Besides, it was nice to have the house to myself on a Saturday.

*

I’m not going to lie; I was a little jealous of my friends in Paris. I was happy for them, but I also had that tug of longing in my belly, and I could feel just a slight sting of envy as I watched their videos and scrolled through the photos they shared.

However, I was also grateful to be able to enjoy coverage of the Olympic games from the comfort of my own home. This eased the sting quite a bit.

*

I had fallen into an unexpected mudita practice over the course of this month, and these examples were just the beginning. A much bigger challenge, however, was waiting for me.

His Holiness the Dalai Lama has been staying in the U.S. for a couple of months for a knee-replacement surgery and follow-up rehab. On Thursday, August 22, a huge crowd gathered at the UBS arena in Elmont, NY, for a long-life prayer ceremony in his honor.

Several monastics associated with TMBCC in Bloomington attended this ceremony along with a few of my Dharma friends. I wanted to attend, too. I really wanted to go, but I had other obligations.

Because it was a last-minute trip, I would have had to scramble to prepare for it. It also would have been very inconvenient for my family and my students.

I was happy for my monk friends who shared the stage with HHDL and who chanted the long-life prayers honoring him. I was also happy that this huge arena was filled with thousands of people who traveled long distances to honor and support HHDL before he returned back to Dharamshala. I was also happy for my Dharma friends who were able to make the trip to NY.

*

I thought about the commitments and responsibilities that prevented me from going. I thought about the students who I helped during the week. I thought about the essays they shared with me, and the feedback that I was able to offer them before they were due.

I thought about the emails and phone calls I made during the week, and how some of those connections were essential for advocating and supporting a new faculty member in the English department.

I thought about the quiet time I had in the mornings for personal practice. I thought about the time and energy I had to take care of my home and prepare nourishing meals for Jim and me during the week.

I thought about all the amazing, joyful speeches that I was able to hear on the televised coverage of the Democratic National Convention that was held in Chicago.

I thought about the two health-related appointments that were necessary for my own self-care.

Upon reflection, it was clear that I needed to be at home. My karma required that I stay put. Besides, I was able to enjoy photos and videos that my friends shared. I was also able to watch a full-length video of the ceremony on YouTube. So, really, I didn’t miss out after all.

***

In Cindy Rasicot’s biography This Fresh Existence: Heart Teachings from Bhikkhuni Dhammananda, Venerable Dhammananda, who was the first woman fully ordained in the Thai Theravada Buddhist tradition, and who is a wonderful Dharma teacher, refers to mudita as “a deep practice of overcoming oneself.”

This practice also involves acknowledging, accepting, and celebrating the successes and achievements of others. For many, this practice is a new way of thinking and moving through the world.

Venerable Dhammananda explains, “When you hear of other people’s good news, practice feeling happy for them.”

She encourages others to do the best they can without getting bogged down with the results of their efforts. If we continue to do good work, the results will naturally occur.

According to Venerable, “The good karma you perform is never lost. You will reap the reward at some point.”

Once we realize this, we can relax and soften. We don’t feel compelled to chase after enlightenment. I realized that my desire to go to New York was just that—wanting to chase after and force an enlightening experience, rather than allowing it to naturally grow organically.

*

We can’t experience everything in this one precious human life. We have choices to make, priorities to assign. That’s why mudita is so important and beneficial. Genuinely celebrating the accomplishments, opportunities, and achievements of others helps to add meaning and purpose to our lives, too.

***

Thank you for taking the time to read or listen to this month’s offering. I hope you will seek and cultivate many examples and opportunities for practicing mudita in your own life.

If you haven’t had a chance to visit the current Middle Moon Malas online collection, please take a few minutes to do so before you leave this page. I’ve added several new designs recently. Also, if you are interested in a custom mala or quarter mala, please send me a message via the Contact Us page. I’d be happy to create a mala design that supports and inspires your own practice.

Akshobhya Buddha Sand Mandala: Jangchub Choeling Nuns Bring Peace and Wisdom to Bloomington July 30, 2024 18:39

If you prefer to listen to this month's offering, click HERE for the audio link.

Recently, a group of nuns from the Jangchub Choeling Nunnery in India visited TMBCC in Bloomington. This is their first tour to the U.S. They are raising funds for their nunnery as well as sharing aspects of Tibetan Buddhist culture along the way. They spent five days creating an elaborate Akshobhya Buddha sand mandala in the Kalachakra Hall. Akshobhya, which means unshakeable, is a Buddha whose blessings are associated with wisdom and understanding the true nature of reality.

The nuns started with an opening ceremony and blessing. Then, they carefully created the template for the design using compasses, rulers, and chalk-coated lines of twine.

Over the course of the next few days, they worked quietly, and they worked together, often in silence, each with a demeanor of focused, clear, and steady concentration.  They were deliberate, they were mindful, they were measured, they were precise, and, most importantly, they were peaceful.

 Prior to their visit, these nuns had trained in India for a full year to learn the skills necessary to create this beautiful sand mandala. This collective effort is a meditation practice in and of itself, and it requires unwavering concentration, focus, and precision.

They created this mandala with superfine, vibrantly colored sand, and they used tapered, tube-like funnels made of copper, called chak-purs, to apply the sand onto the template. They scratched thin metal rods against the ridged sides of these tubes, which created a vibration. This allowed the nuns to control the flow of the sand in a steady and controlled manner. It’s fascinating to watch, and even more soothing to hear. The sounds of the chak-purs remind me of cicadas singing their spiraling summer songs.

We had the opportunity to witness and share a beautiful practice of interconnection and interdependence, not only for the nuns who were creating this design, but for all the visitors who were able to observe the process as well.

Their practice is not performative, and it’s not meant to showcase or show off their artistic talents. There’s no place for ego in this meditative practice. Their intentions are clear, and their motivations are pure.

 Day by day, layer by layer, the mandala took shape. Each symbol and color in the design has meaning. The nuns have studied the significance of every aspect of this design, and while creating it, they contemplate and meditate on the meaning throughout the process.

During their stay, I was able to visit the center a few times. One of those times was on a Sunday morning before the weekly Dharma teaching. I made a point to arrive early so I could walk to the Kalachakra Hall and observe them working. It was quiet, and there weren’t many visitors there at the time. The nuns were working steadily, and the cicada-like sounds of their chak-purs echoed softly throughout the building.

They had made significant progress since my last visit a few days before. Layers of bold, vibrant colors had covered most of the board. While they worked, I had time to sit and recite a few rounds of refuge ngondro mantras with my mala: “Nama Sanghaya, Nama Sanghaya, Nama Sanghaya, Nama Sanghaya…”

A mandala is a representation of everything in the universe. As the nuns carefully created their design, they also focused, contemplated, and offered blessings to everything in the universe as well.

Typically, after the mandala is complete, and after the closing ceremony, they scoop the sand into an urn and pour it into a body of water, sending with it all the blessings and messages of peace and compassion into the currents. Dissolving the mandala at the end is a reminder that nothing is permanent—even after all the dedication, study, time, and effort—nothing lasts forever—and clinging to anything is never helpful or fruitful.

Watching the creation of the mandala was a reminder that our intentions matter, that our efforts matter, and that collaborating with others is essential if we want to grow and cultivate peace.

 Watching the dissolution of the sand mandala is an exercise in letting go—and allowing. It also underscores the importance of enjoying the creative process, and not clinging to the outcome.

The Jangchub Choeling nuns stayed at TMBCC for ten days. Then, they traveled to their next destination to begin the process again and create another mandala in another city. They will be touring the U.S. until early spring of 2025, and they will continue to spread peace, compassion, and beauty with every colorful grain of sand.

If they come to your town, please take some time to observe this practice for yourself and to support their efforts. You won’t regret it.

Below is the link to their website if you’re interested in sponsoring a nun or donating to their nunnery.

https://www.jangchubchoeling.org/

****

When I taught English full-time, I was a big fan of the Transcendentalists. I enjoyed teaching the works of Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau.

One of my favorite Thoreau quotes from Walden was, “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”

Watching the nuns create this beautiful Akshobhya Buddha sand mandala made me realize that I didn’t need to run away into the woods to cultivate peace, and that living deliberately requires mindfulness, compassion, and sharp focus.

  Thoreau lived at Walden Pond for two years, two months, and two days. His retreat was an experiment that led to the creation of a wonderful piece of literature—one that was created in solitude but was shared with the rest of the world.

Everything we have and do depends upon the skills and expertise of others, and we are foolish to think that anything we do is completely independent and isolated from others.

A meaningful life begins with a clear motivation—the intention to make the most of our precious human life—and moment by moment, day by day, we build our lives with all the textures and colors of our choosing—and share the lives we create with others before our own inevitable dissolution.

****

Thank you for taking the time to listen or read this month’s blog offering. I hope the month of July has treated you well, and I hope August has even more blessings waiting for you. Please visit the Middle Moon Malas online collection. Each of these hand-knotted malas is a one-of-a-kind creation designed to inspire and support meaningful practice.

Connecting vs. Centering: Cherishing Others as an Antidote for Self-Absorbed Anxiety June 29, 2024 11:44

If you prefer to listen to this month's blog article, click HERE for the audio link.

During a recent online Dharma talk held at Sravasti Abbey, Ven. Thubten Jigme said, “Afflictions will come. What matters most is how you deal with them.”

I haven’t been feeling well these last few days. I’ve been anxious and restless—mentally scattered, easily distracted, and I’ve had mild bouts of fatigue and dizziness. In short, I’ve been in a funk.

I’ve taken extra care to stay hydrated (it has been exceptionally hot this week), rest, and eat good food. These have helped alleviate my physical symptoms.

For emotional and mental symptoms—I’ve taken time to reflect on the successes of others and to celebrate others, which has also been effective. The good news is, the month of June has offered several opportunities to do just that.

For example, on June 8^th, the city of Indianapolis hosted a Pride Parade and Festival in honor of Pride Month. My daughter and I, along with my son-in-law, his siblings, and baby niece attended the parade in downtown Indy.

We gathered on Massachusetts Avenue, along with thousands of others who flanked both sides of the street to celebrate, support, and uplift the LGBTQIA+ community. There’s something very comforting and unifying about being in a diverse, inclusive crowd filled with people who are accepting, compassionate, and kind.

We watched and cheered as several businesses, non-profits, local organizations, and sponsors marched in support and celebration. Participants waved colorful flags, blew bubbles, tossed candy, smiled, and danced their way down Mass. Ave. It was truly a celebration of community members supporting other community members—and a colorful display of interdependence at its best.

A young man stood in front of me during the parade. He wore a bright purple outfit that he had designed himself specifically for this event. I watched as several participants in the parade stopped to compliment and encourage him.

One woman asked, “Are you Prince?”

He replied, “No…I’m me!”

This young man showed up, expressed himself with class and courage, and many others praised, acknowledged, and celebrated him. He was seen, and he was appreciated. That’s what this parade is all about, and I was grateful to witness it.

Being in the company of family and thousands of warm-hearted strangers who felt like family to come together, show support, and celebrate others was extremely hopeful and uplifting.

Just remembering and thinking about this event helped lift me out of my anxious funk.

Photo Description: Young man in purple watching a drag queen in a rainbow dress during Pride Parade in Indianapolis.

***

Another opportunity to celebrate others occurred on Father’s Day.

Elise, Christopher, and I showered Jim with gifts and attention at one of his favorite restaurants, Yummy Bowl, a Mongolian stir-fry and sushi spot in Greenwood.

Elise gave her dad a new baseball cap and dress socks, and I had given him a button-up dress shirt perfect for summer weather. We enjoyed our time, our conversation, and our bowls of noodley stir-fry.

Having time to celebrate with family is a wonderful antidote to hyper-focusing on the self.

Photo Description: Jim at Yummy Bowl on Father's Day

***

A few days after Father’s Day, on June 19^th, we celebrated Juneteenth, which commemorates the ending of slavery in the U.S.

This holiday celebrates African American history, culture, and progress. In the days leading up to Juneteenth, I read Percival Everett’s novel James, a retelling of Twain’s Huck Finn from the point of view of Jim.

I had studied Huck Finn in high school with Mrs. Grenda, my favorite English teacher at Warren Central many years ago. I studied it again with a wonderful professor and Twain scholar, Dr. Baetzhold, when I was a student at Butler University.

Honestly, I liked James even better than Huck Finn! Everett incorporated familiar references and plot points early on in his novel, but he also created a fully-fledged and well-developed character through Jim, which is something that Twain did not do.

In this retelling, Jim is a strong, brave, intuitive, resourceful, philosophical, compassionate, and literate character. Reading this novel that focused on friendship and freedom was an excellent way to celebrate this meaningful holiday.

It also gave me time to reflect on and appreciate two amazing educators who inspired and encouraged my own journey in education as well.

Photo Description: Percival Everett's novel James on my lap. Maya is watching from the floor, curious about what I'm reading.

***

Last night, I didn’t sleep well, so when I got up at 4:00 AM, I decided to practice an online Feldenkrais lesson. Deborah Bowes was the instructor, and this particular lesson focused on fine-tuning awareness of the abdominals—and learning about how these muscles are the keys to finding stability, strength, and mobility throughout the rest of the body.

One of the lines that she said during the class was, “Noticing leads to awareness, and awareness leads to change.”

This quote, in a nutshell, not only describes the essence of the Feldenkrais Method, but it also describes the journey of progressing from focusing on the self to focusing on others. Like the abdominals, others are the keys to stability, strength, and mobility in the community, and they also help individuals find those same traits in themselves.

Only focusing on the self is like traveling down a dead-end street. Noticing the futility of this leads to the awareness and appreciation of others—the necessity and importance of connection and interconnection. This awareness transforms and changes the landscape, and it offers support and multiple opportunities for learning and growth. The dead-end street becomes a lush labyrinth of trails that welcomes exploration, curiosity, playfulness, and adventure.

Celebrating others—appreciating others—and connecting with others—these are rich, meaningful, and necessary antidotes to lifting ourselves out of the anxious funk that results from centering solely on the individual self.

***

By the way, another great way to lift yourself out of an anxious or restless funk is to practice mantra recitations with a mala. Currently, the Middle Moon Malas online collection is filled with beautiful malas designed to inspire and support meaningful practice. Please visit the homepage and view the hand-knotted malas that are currently available, and don't hesitate to reach out via the Contact Us page for custom design requests and inquiries.

The Power of the Pause: Letting Go to Move Forward May 30, 2024 12:28

If you prefer to listen to this month's offering, please click HERE for the audio link.

We have lived in our current home for over twenty-five years. When we first moved in, we added a second phone line to have internet service as well as a landline phone. At that time, and because of our location, that was our only option to be connected.

I grew up in the 70s, so having a landline phone was familiar and reliable for me. Over the years, as cell phones became more ubiquitous and essential for everyday tasks, having a landline phone has become obsolete.

We’d hung onto our landline for several years, but the final straw for us came this past winter and spring. It wasn’t unusual for us to have to call a technician at least once a year to replace external wiring that had been chewed by squirrels or mice—or that had become corroded by spring rains.

New houses have been cropping up in our area, and our utility box, which had once been in an abandoned field near railroad tracks, is now an eyesore in some lucky winner’s backyard.

In February, the resident of this new home decided to cut the large wire at the top of our utility box, which resulted in the complete loss of our phone and internet connections. We didn’t have service for a couple of weeks until techs could rig up a temporary solution.

We had relatively stable service for a while—until heavy rains in March did a number on the external wires again.

Over the years, the phone company has changed ownership several times, and each change brought a decline in reliable service as well as creeping increases in service prices.

Honestly, the only phone calls we have been receiving lately have been junk calls from telemarketers, scammers, fraudsters, and opportunists phishing for personal data. It was time—long overdue, actually, for a change and an upgrade.

We already have cable, so we opted to migrate to a cable modem and router and to ditch the landline altogether.

The process took a little time. It began in the Xfinity store lobby while I waited with my husband and son-in-law for over an hour before a young, hip associate helped us upgrade our account and scheduled a technician to come to our home for the installation.

Our son-in-law gave us his modem and router to use, but the tech who came to the house to add the extra line couldn’t connect it. So, I made a trip to Best Buy, and, thankfully, a very helpful and knowledgeable associate helped me select a single modem/router unit.

I went back to the Xfinity store and waited another hour until the manager, who had to contend with an extremely loud and disgruntled customer minutes before me, helped me register this new unit to our account.

I’m not going to lie—this disgruntled customer was over-the-top angry. He was yelling and screaming at the manager, and we all watched and held our breath as he stormed out to his truck and drove away. I was not the only one who wondered if he was going to come back in with a gun. I really thought we were going to be on the evening news.

Thankfully, we all survived, and a few days later, my daughter and son-in-law stopped by to help us set up and connect the modem/router along with a laptop that I had purchased a few weeks prior.

Whew! This whole process of disconnecting from an inefficient, outdated, and unreliable service to connecting to one that is more reliable and convenient required time, patience, and the expertise of others.

I’m so grateful I have my Buddhist practice to rely on. It really comes in handy, even in mundane situations like this. If not, I’d be more like the disgruntled customer ranting and raving in the Xfinity store.

*****

While this technology pause was unsettling; it was also necessary. Honestly, it was the most important part of the journey. It was the quiet gap between old and new, outdated and updated.

This was an important time of reflection and introspection for me. I had more quality time to sit in silence and let go of the usual distractions, obligations, and uncertainties. It was a time of literal and metaphorical clearing away. I deep cleaned several rooms in the house, I let go of other things I didn’t need, and I rediscovered and appreciated the things that I did have. This was an important time to be present and to slow down, and it was the perfect time for an emotional and energetic reset.

Not having access to home internet for those transitional weeks enabled me to practice patience and gratitude.

I thought about all the people who made this access to technology possible—all the minds that had to work together to create and sustain this essential conduit to information. Sometimes interconnection is invisible—but it exists, nonetheless. Interconnection can be very easy to take for granted, too—usually, we realize this when something no longer functions properly. However, realizing and appreciating how much we rely on the skills and knowledge of others is an important practice and habit of mind to develop.

I was grateful to have the ability to write and read emails, to check my bank balance, or to purchase supplies for my business. I wouldn’t be able to do these things without the assistance of thousands of others.

I’m grateful to have the help of my daughter and son-in-law. Not only did they offer encouragement throughout this process, but they also helped me set up my laptop.

I’m grateful to be able to have access to technology anywhere in the house. For years, I worked from a stand-alone computer. I didn’t mind working from my study room, but now that I have a laptop as well, it’s nice to be able to practice a Feldenkrais lesson upstairs or to listen to a Dharma talk in the kitchen while I’m washing dishes. Having agency and choice is incredibly liberating.

Our home is no longer tethered to a landline. Although, I still catch myself glancing at the spot on the kitchen counter where we had kept our main house phone—checking for a blinking red light that signaled messages.

I do miss being able to pick up a line upstairs while Jim picks up a downstairs line so that we can both chat with Elise.

I also miss being able to check the time on the house phone when I have something cooking in the oven.

Even though these are small things that I miss, there are alternative options for all these situations. That’s another bonus for navigating long-overdue changes—exploring options and practicing a flexible mindset.

Releasing the obsolete has been an interesting experiment for me, but it’s also allowed me to practice and appreciate traits that won’t ever go out of style. Additionally, it’s given me yet another reason to protect and develop Bodhicitta, the altruistic mindset of compassion.

I love that opportunities to practice Dharma are everywhere. Even with something as mundane as changing a service provider.

Currently, our landline phones are waiting in a paper bag from Fresh Thyme in the hallway. I plan to take them to a local recycling center where they will serve a new purpose and benefit others in a new way.

***

What have you had to let go of recently?

How did letting go reveal new facets of your everyday life?

What bumps and obstacles did you have to endure or overcome while navigating your own journey?

These could be questions to ponder in your next analytical meditation session.

***

What I love about malas is they are a simple form of technology—they don’t require electricity, contracts, or upgrades. They are powered by our own dedication, intention, and practice.

Please visit the online shop to view the current collection of one-of-a-kind designs. If you are interested in a custom design or a quarter mala, please visit the Contact Us page for requests and inquiries.

I hope the month of May has treated you well. I’m looking forward to seeing what the month of June has in store for us.

Until then--

Teresa

Tying and Untying Knots: Holding Space and Letting Go during Totality April 21, 2024 18:00

If you prefer to listen to this month's article, please click HERE for the audio link.

In a knotted mala, the knots carry an important significance. On a functional level, they help to protect the beads against cracks, chips, and scratches due to friction from regular use. Because the knots hold just enough space to prevent the beads from touching, they also help to showcase more of the surface area of the individual beads.

If the cord breaks on a knotted mala, it won't result in 108 beads scattering across the floor.

On a symbolic level, the knots represent the obstacles and challenges in life. The challenges allow us to apply what we've learned, and they test our capacity for patience, strength, endurance, and compassion.

The beads represent the blessings and beautiful aspects of life. Consequently, a meaningful life requires a balance of both blessings and challenges.

I like creating knotted malas. Even though they require more time and effort, the knots create a sense of steadiness and stability in the designs. They cradle and hold the beads in place. The knots are subtle--they are smaller in size than the beads themselves, and they offer a sense of quiet strength and protection.

Typically, it takes me two to three days to create a full (108 beads) knotted mala. If I try to overdo it and string too many beads in one sitting, I'll pay for it later. I'll experience numbness in my fingers and hands late at night--or I'll run the risk of splitting my thumbnails. They remind me of the benefits of pacing myself--that less is more. There's no need to rush or hurry the process. Slow down. Be mindful. Be present. Pay close attention.

***

On Monday, April 8th, a large swath of our state was able to view a total solar eclipse. The last time a solar eclipse was visible in what is now Central Indiana, according to a recent Butler University newsletter, was in the year 1205. Indiana didn't even exist at that time.

The next eclipse is scheduled to make an appearance in the Hoosier State in the year 2153. So, it was pretty amazing to have an opportunity to witness a celestial event like this.

What was even more amazing was...the weather. Normally, April in Indiana brings loads of rain, cool temperatures, and gloomy, gray, overcast skies. On April 8th, the skies were clear blue, and it was a pleasantly warm 70 degree day.

Local schools and businesses were closed for this event. Jim and I stayed home. We sat in the front yard on fold-up lawn chairs and kept tabs on the sun and moon while wearing our eclipse glasses.

Jim puttered around doing yardwork leading up to the afternoon event, which gave me time for personal mantra practice. I've been working on refuge ngondro recitations since January, and will continue for most of this year (four refuge prayers--111,111 recitations each). I'm pacing myself and taking my time with this meaningful practice. I sat in the rare, April sunshine and completed twelve mala rounds of "Namo Dharmaya."

I'm glad Jim and I decided to stay home. We could have traveled to big public celebrations in Bloomington, Speedway, and Indianapolis, but I'm glad we opted for a more intimate viewing.

In the months and weeks leading up to this eclipse, I didn't have any expectations or hopes. In fact, I was fully prepared to watch it on NASA's website if the weather was rainy or cloudy.

I finished my recitations, and Jim joined me in the front yard. We listened to tunes on WTTS on a portable radio as the moon slowly slid in front of the sun : "Black Hole Sun," "Dancing in the Moonlight," "Here Comes the Sun," "Blinded by the Light"...

At around 3:00 in the afternoon, we were able to witness Totality. I turned off the radio at this point so we could take it all in. 

The air took on a dark blue, metallic hue and cooled by about ten degrees. Houses in the distance appeared hazy and blurry.

Peeper frogs started to chirp in our ravine, and a nearby barred owl hooted intermittently.

As I gazed up at the eclipse in Totality, I felt extremely heavy, as if I were being pushed into the earth.

Two images crossed my mind during these fleeting minutes. One was an image of a race car crashing into a wall after navigating a sharp turn. It was not a spectacular crash, the kind where the impact is dispersed outwardly, often protecting the driver. It was the "un-spectacular," no-big-deal kind, which is often deadly for the driver, who absorbs the impact of the crash.

The second image was actually a memory. I remembered being very pregnant and walking down the hall of the high school where I taught at that time. It was during a passing period, and students were milling all around me as I was walking back to my classroom. I remembered feeling a sudden, sharp, stabbing pain in my groin, and all I could do was stop, put my hand against the wall for stability, and breathe until the pain subsided.

I did not experience physical pain during Totality, but these images were intense and brought a strong sense of weighted heaviness to my body and mind.

I felt the energetic "impact" in my body--and all I could do was to allow--to hold space--and to accept and receive these images and feelings on each inhalation. Then, with each exhale, send all of that heaviness into the earth to be transformed.

It was an odd sensation, but for three minutes, I was firmly rooted to my chair, completely fixated and sensing the full impact of this once-in-a-lifetime event. I don't know that I would have experienced this if I had been in a large, public setting.

I felt like an energetic conduit, and all I could do in this odd dance of give and receive was breathe--inhaling the full weight of the sun and the moon--and exhaling into the earth. 

Just before Totality ended, and the moon continued to move across the path of the sun, it occurred to me that this experience was like a giant knot in a celestial-sized mala. It simultaneously separated and joined the sun and moon for a brief time--holding them together like a knot separating two beads on a sutra.

The path of this eclipse (which spanned the width of 108 miles, by the way) stretched from Mexico to Maine. This eclipse crossed the continent like a big, beautiful mala-in-progress, and I'm grateful that we were able to witness it.

***

The knots represent the obstacles, the challenges in life. I'm not sure why I imagined a car crash and remembered a specific pregnancy pain. Perhaps these were simply symbolic images--examples of obstacles.

The knots hold the beads of a mala in place, and they showcase the beautiful aspects of life.

Afterwards, the temperature slowly increased. the heavy, dark blue, metallic sky returned to a sunny clear blue. 

The peeper frogs went silent, and we didn't hear the owl until later on in the evening.

Everything seemed to return to normal. I stepped inside the house and took a nap. I needed a little time to process what I'd experienced. When I woke up, I went to my workspace downstairs and started working on stringing a knotted mala.

***

April has been a bit tumultuous, but I hope you are navigating the blessings and challenges of your own life with grace and compassion.

If you haven't visited the MMM home page in a while, I've added a few additional designs to the current collection. As always, feel free to reach out on the Contact Us page if you're interested in a custom design to inspire and support your own personal meditation practice.

Take care--

T

Wise Selfish and the People Pleasing Trap: How Speaking Up and Saying "No" Can Be Acts of Compassion April 20, 2024 13:26

 If you prefer to listen to this post, please click HERE for the audio link.

I recently read a quotation that a friend had posted on her FB page that stopped me in my tracks. I read it over and over. I took time to contemplate it. It resonated for me--and it was exactly what I needed at that time.

"Emotional availability is being present to your feelings and needs and being willing to share them, and allowing the other person to have their own feelings and responses to your needs.

 If you prefer to listen to this month’s offering, please click HERE for the audio link.

“The stupid way to be selfish is seeking happiness for ourselves alone. The intelligent way to be selfish is to work for the welfare of others.” His Holiness the 14^th Dalai Lama

Sometimes, saying “No” is an act of compassion and wise selfishness. Women, in particular, tend to have trouble with this—we often feel pressured to take on more than we can handle in order to appease, please, and help others.

However, not standing up for ourselves and saying “No” when the situation may be too demanding or inappropriate can be detrimental to our emotional and physical well-being.

I am not a fan of suppressing, masking, or ignoring emotions. I am also not a fan of indulging, lashing out, and bombarding others with them either. Keeping feelings bottled up without acknowledging or processing them usually leads to bigger problems for me later on. Whether it’s because of a single major trauma or an accumulation of several small issues over time, my body will let me know if I’m not paying close enough attention to my emotional well-being.

For example, over the years, I have dealt with the physical consequences of frozen shoulder syndrome, Bell’s palsy, and shingles as either the direct or indirect results of not dealing with my emotions effectively.

According to HHDL, “There is nothing inherently wrong with pursuing one’s own interests. On the contrary, to do so is a natural expression of our fundamental disposition to seek happiness and to shun suffering. In fact, it is because we care for our own needs that we have the natural capacity to appreciate others’ kindness and love.”

One recent, and very mild, example that comes to mind happened recently after a Dharma teaching at TMBCC.  A kind-hearted and devoted sangha member stopped me after the teaching to introduce me to a visitor who was new to the Center.

We exchanged greetings, and he told me that he recently graduated from IU and wanted to attend a Dharma talk. My kind-hearted friend then said, “Teresa is great! She will give you her number, and you can text her if you have any questions.”

Keep in mind, this man was a complete stranger to me. As she was saying this to him, I looked this man in the eye while shaking my head and said, “No…I will not be doing that. I will not be giving you my number. You will not be texting me. I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. If you have any questions while you’re here, please feel free to ask. I'll be happy to help if I can.”

He nodded his head in agreement the entire time I was talking as if to say, “I get it. It’s OK. No worries!”

Now, this response may seem logical and normal, but, believe it or not, it required time, processing, courage, and work on my part to respond in this way, mainly because this was not the first time that this kind-hearted sangha member had said this sort of thing to new visitors.

“Being foolish selfish means pursuing our own interests in a narrow, short-sighted way. Being wise selfish means taking a broader view and recognizing that our long-term individual interests lie in the welfare of everyone.”  HHDL

On a few previous occasions, this same kind-hearted friend had escorted strangers over to me who happened to live in Greenwood, a town which has a population of 65,000 and is an hour’s drive from Bloomington, and had told them that we could ride share, and that I would drive them to the Center. Then, she’d walk away immediately, leaving me to have an awkward conversation with people who I didn’t know.

I’m not going to lie; these rare, unexpected exchanges were extremely anxiety-producing for me. Each time, I felt pressured to do something that I did not feel safe or comfortable doing. (I’ve seen far too many Dateline episodes to know better than to drive strangers around in my car by myself.) In addition, these brief exchanges made me feel resentful and frustrated toward my Dharma friend.

During these previous incidents, I didn’t have time to react or feel anything. I was caught off guard—confused and blind-sided—and I didn’t have the wherewithal to speak up and set a healthy boundary.

In fact, somewhere out there, there is a woman who actually has my cellphone number. My kind-hearted Dharma friend had pressured me into giving it to her, and for weeks, I worried that she would text me and ask me to pick her up to take her to Bloomington. For all I know, she may have wondered if that strange lady she met at TMBCC was expecting her to reach out for a ride to B-town. This may have caused anxiety for both of us.

I can’t speak for anyone else—in fact, that was the root of this problem—someone had overstepped and had spoken for me without my permission or consent, and it took me a while to process the feelings I had about this.

I felt frustrated, not only at my kind-hearted Dharma friend for putting me in this awkward position, but also at myself for not speaking up right then and there.

“Being wise selfish means being compassionate…Compassion and discernment are mutually reinforcing.”  HHDL

Actually, it took some time for me to process these feelings, and processing for me means talking to myself in the car (so, if you happen to see me driving and I’m talking to myself, you’ll know what’s happening😉) or writing about it.

Once I take the time to contemplate, talk, or write about these feelings that surface, I’m able to settle down, think clearly, and then calmly respond to future situations more effectively.

This takes me back to something one of my graduate school professors said years ago, “Feelings aren’t good or bad; they just are.” Or, stated another way, “You have to feel the feelings before you can heal the feelings.” Taking the time to process feelings helps me to do just that!

“Where we DO have control is at the level of motivation in deploying our critical, intelligent faculties—our discernment.”  HHDL

Because this kind of situation had happened before, on at least two previous occasions, and because I had taken the time to acknowledge and process the feelings that had surfaced, this time, I was able to say “No” with conviction and confidence to this most recent visitor, and, in the presence of my kind-hearted Dharma friend. In effect, I was demonstrating discernment, I was setting a healthy boundary, and I was practicing wise selfishness (compassion).

By the way, my kind-hearted friend did reach out to me later that day via text and apologized for her impulsiveness. I accepted her apology, and all is well.

Suppressing feelings—ignoring them—masking them—pushing them down—all of these are just asking for trouble, if you ask me. I certainly don’t need another shingles outbreak or some weird, neurological episode to remind me of the importance of naming, claiming, and effectively dealing with my emotions.

Over the years, I’ve heard several Dharma teachers explain the importance of contemplating, investigating, and analyzing the teachings before accepting them as the truth. It’s essential to take time to digest and understand them before meditating on them.  

Well, this applies to experiences in everyday life as well—especially for those unexpected situations when I don’t have time to think about how I feel until later.

I love my kind-hearted Dharma friend. She means well, even though she sometimes oversteps.

I love going to TMBCC for weekly Dharma talks, and I enjoy meeting the visitors who come for teachings, too.

I especially love being able to apply what I learn both on and off the cushion.

Taking the time to process what I learn and what I feel helps me to hone my capacity for critical thinking, discernment, and compassion.

***

I hope the month of March has treated you well, and I hope April treats you even better.

Please check out the current Middle Moon Malas collection, and don’t hesitate to reach out if you have custom design requests or if you need to have a mala restrung.

Quotes from HHDL came from the book Beyond Religion.

Photo Credit: Andrys from Pixabay 

Peaks and Valleys of Practice: The Flexibility of Familiarity February 26, 2024 18:35

 If you prefer to listen to this month's offering, please click HERE for the audio link. 

It’s Saturday afternoon, and I’m sitting at a small café table in Barnes and Noble with my daughter. I ordered a cinnamon tea; she ordered a chai latté and we’re splitting an oatmeal raisin cookie. In the background, we can hear the intermittent hiss of the cappuccino machine and the low murmuring of voices at surrounding tables. It’s nice to have time to visit and chat with her. It reminds me of the many hours we enjoyed at Borders years ago—she’d read or work on homework, and I’d grade papers.

February has brought with it many peaks and valleys. Time spent with Elise in a local bookstore is definitely a peak.

Earlier this month, I celebrated Losar, the Tibetan Lunar New Year, with Dharma friends in Bloomington. We celebrated with a purifying smoke puja under freshly hung prayer flags behind the temple. Then, we gathered inside the temple for long life prayers, tea, and sweet rice. Afterwards, we ate lunch in the cultural building and had time to chat with friends.

 I enjoyed watching the Tibetan dances, and I especially enjoyed seeing all the little ones in their brocaded chupas and traditional dress. It truly was a wonderful day of celebration and meaningful connection. I didn’t know many of the people who attended; some came from out of state just for this celebration. It didn’t matter—it felt like we were among family members throughout the day. Our love of Tibetan culture and Dharma practice brought us all together. This celebration was definitely a highlight as well.

  I am very grateful for having a daily Dharma practice. One of the benefits is that it helps me feel connected to others, even those I’ve never met before, in a meaningful, authentic way. A daily practice definitely helps me appreciate these sweet moments of celebration with others.

However, and probably more importantly, my practice helps me to navigate frustrating times, too. This past week, we had to arrange for our cat, Zora, to have dental surgery. She’s an older kitty, and she takes two different medications to manage seizures and a wonky thyroid. I worry about how she’ll do under anesthesia, as well as her follow-up recovery.

In addition to her health concerns, we had someone randomly cut our phone and internet line. There are several construction projects happening in our area, and our line was cut, which interrupted our phone and internet service for a day or so.

Last Wednesday evening, I was navigating my way through an online chat with a Brightspeed robot on my cell phone to arrange for a technician to come out and trouble shoot our outage. I was also in the process of making dinner. While I was chopping onions, boiling water for pasta, and chatting with a robot, the vet calls on Jim’s cell phone, which he left on the kitchen table while he was outside shooting his bow for archery practice.

So, I’m in the middle of trying to do three important things at the same time. Needless to say, I was a bit flustered and rattled, but I managed to stay relatively calm. I didn’t burn dinner, I was eventually able to schedule and confirm a tech visit, and the vet patiently repeated her instructions so that I could clearly process what she was saying.

Afterwards, when things settled down, I looked forward to my practice. During stressful and chaotic times, it helps me to stay calm and steady. The familiarity of the practice is soothing and comforting, and it helps me to focus on something positive.

Later in the week, during the Sunday Dharma teaching in Bloomington, Minyak Rinpoche said something that really resonated with me. He said, “Everything depends upon the flexibility of familiarity.”

In other words, having a daily practice to rely on helps foster a flexible mindset. I have definitely found that a daily practice helps me to navigate unexpected pivots and surprises. It offers a steady foundation in the face of constant change.

I’ve also noticed that it’s during stressful times when I realize how well my practice is actually serving me (and others). It’s also during these chaotic times that I learn how effectively, and mindfully my practice has been. Stressful times also reveal where my weak spots are—and in what areas I still need to grow.

Am I just saying the words and going through the motions of the practice? Or, am I taking enough time to contemplate and analyze the meaning of what I’m reading or saying? Most importantly, am I applying what I’m practicing to my everyday life?

If I can remain calm during challenging times, and in the aftermath of challenging times, I know I’m on the right path. If I get agitated and flustered, I know I have work to do.

Last night, I spent over an hour in the kitchen tending to Zora—encouraging her to eat her food. It’s a slow process. She takes a few bites, then walks away. She comes back around to take another bite, then walks away again. If I walk away, she won’t eat at all, but if I stay in the kitchen, she’ll keep returning.

We have to keep a close eye on Maya, our Yorkie, who is more than happy to eat her food, and doesn’t care that it’s laced with medications that she does not need.

During this hour, I wasn’t stressed. I was present, patient, and calm. I made dinner. I washed dishes. I listened to the news. In between, I pushed her food into a small pile on her plate to entice her to continue eating. This pile slowly dwindled over the course of the hour.

Afterwards, when she finally finished her food, I felt emotionally drained, stressed, and scared. My anxieties about her upcoming surgery resurfaced. I wound up snapping at Jim and stomped upstairs to stress-vacuum the floor.

This is how I know I need to continue to practice—and that I need to continue to fine-tune my practice. I’m currently able to stay fairly steady and calm in the middle of the chaos, but not after the chaos has passed.

Moments like these make me realize how important it is to take quality time--

to sit on my cushion and meditate,

to mindfully recite mantra,

to read Dharma texts or listen to Dharma talks,

 and to engage is some kind of purification practice

EVERY DAY!!!!

Moments like these help me recognize the progress I’ve already made, and I have made slow, steady progress, much like Zora returning to her dwindling plate of food in the kitchen. These moments help me to appreciate how much I’ve changed for the better, and they also motivate and encourage me to continue to keep practicing in order to move forward on the path.

I hope that you are navigating all of the peaks and valleys of your life with skill, grace, courage, and patience. If a beautiful, hand-knotted mala would enhance and inspire your practice, please visit the MMM online shop. Send me a message via the Contact Us page if you are interested in a custom design. I’d be happy to create a beautiful mala or quarter mala design that’s just right for you and your practice.

27 Beads: Even More Benefits of Quarter Malas January 30, 2024 20:14

(Image: Quartz Quarter Mala with disco ball guru and dove gray sutra/tassel)

 If you prefer to listen to this month's blog article, please click HERE for the audio link. 

About eighteen months ago, I wrote a blog entitled “Less Is More: The Beauty and Benefits of Quarter Malas.” In it, I described a few practical benefits to using quarter malas.

Middle Moon Malas quarter malas include twenty-seven beads, plus a guru and tassel. These designs are hand-knotted, of course, and crafted with high-quality gemstones, just like the full malas I create. Lately, I have been creating quarter malas for an upcoming event in March. These little-but-mighty designs are very popular at in-person events, which is why I don’t typically add them to the online shop.

However, whenever I post photos of these mini-malas on Facebook or Instagram, people reach out and ask questions about them—and they want to know how they can purchase them, so I thought I’d go into more details about the benefits of quarter malas in this month’s offering, and encourage you to reach out if you’re interested in a design for yourself or a loved one.

(Image: Dzi Agate Quarter Mala with Picture Jasper, Dzi Agate, and Garnet beads with Dzi Agate guru and maroon sutra/tassel)

*Collaboration

One of my favorite aspects of creating mala designs is collaborating with clients. I love helping people curate malas that will support and enhance their own personal meditation and wellness practices. Quarter malas are ideal for this collaborative adventure because they are an affordable, low-pressure investment. Most of the quarter malas I create run between $40--$50, depending upon the beads that are in the designs. Also, because there are only 27 beads, it’s easier to explore and play with the colors, textures, and patterns of the beads as well as the colors for the sutra and tassel.

I will create layout designs and send photos to clients. Once they agree on their custom design, it doesn’t take long for me to create their one-of-a-kind quarter mala. It takes me a few days to create a full mala, but I can create a quarter mala in a few hours.

Recently, I had a client who requested a quarter mala for her beloved teacher. After listening to her and showing her photos of various beads, guru options, and sutra colors, we were able to collaborate and create a meaningful and thoughtful gift for someone very important to her.

Some clients are wanting a quarter mala for a specific practice or purpose. For example, I have made Lapis Lazuli quarter malas for Medicine Buddha recitations; Jade quarter malas for Tara sadhanas; Quartz Crystal quarter malas for Vajrasattva retreats.

Some clients have specific color or stone preferences—they want a purple quarter mala, or they really like Amethyst.

Not all of my quarter malas are custom designs. Sometimes, I like to play and experiment with textures, colors, shapes, and combinations of beads. If I really like the result, it may become the inspiration for a full mala design.

I recently created a quarter mala from Rhodochrosite and Cherry Quartz beads with a lovely pink lotus resin guru. This inspired the Pink Lotus Mala, a full mala that includes variations on a theme of these beads. This mala is currently available on the MMM online collection.

(Image: Pink Lotus Quarter Mala with Rhodochrosite and Cherry Quartz beads and pink lotus guru with variegated pink sutra/tassel) 

*Connection

Collaborating with clients also gives me an opportunity to connect with others and share meaningful conversations. Recently, a client (and former student) reached out because she was interested in a Quartz quarter mala that I had posted on FB. Because she is local, we decided to meet at a nearby coffee shop to chat and catch up, and I was able to deliver her design in person.

It was great to hear about her family, about what she’s doing now, and how much she has evolved and grown since her high school days. She also had questions about how to use her quarter mala, and being able to describe that process in person was more relevant than simply directing her to watch a video or reel that I’d posted.

It’s also nice to support another local small business. We met at Mocha Nut, an independently owned coffee shop in Southport.

I typically attend a few in-person events each year as a vendor, and, usually, these events are a bit crowded and noisy. At these events, there’s not much time to interact one-on-one with customers in a quiet space, so it’s nice to have more time to chat with individual customers in person. 

(Image: Red Rose Quarter Mala with Black and White Striped Agate, faceted Onyx, and matte Mother-of-Pearl beads with red rose guru and black/red variegated sutra/tassel)

*Commitment

Quarter malas are beautiful little reminders to practice, and they are intended to encourage practice. These quarter mala designs are not made to be worn on the wrist all day. I don’t use stretchy cord, and don’t make stretchy bracelets.  My designs are hand-knotted, and the same cord that runs through all of the beads also secures the tassel. Everything is connected and interconnected, after all.

Because quarter malas are portable and don’t take up much space, they are ideal for travel. Also, because they are affordable, it’s possible to keep one at home, one in the car, and one at work. So, if you’ve made a commitment to meditate or recite mantras every day, strategically (and respectfully) placed quarter malas are meaningful reminders to practice.

Having the visual reminder of a quarter mala can be a comforting motivator. Whenever you have a few minutes to practice, or even when challenges arise, they are right there waiting to support you, helping you to stay grounded and focused.

I recently had a conversation with someone at work, and this conversation brought up anxious emotions for me. This particular individual tends to have very strong opinions, and often presents his opinions as if they were facts. Usually, I can let his comments slide, but this time, his remarks were jarring and triggering for me. I could feel the uneasy pull of an anxiety spiral forming in my gut.

I didn’t contradict, challenge, or argue with him. Instead, I sat at my desk, held my mala in my hand, and completed a brief breath practice.

First Bead: inhale

Pause

Next Bead: exhale

Pause

All the way around the mala.

It took just a few minutes to calm my anxious thoughts. It also helped me detach and not take his comments personally. I was able to let it go and move on.

(Image: Elephant Jasper Quarter Mala with gold metal textured guru and Autumn Harvest variegated sutra/tassel)

*****

I hope 2024 is treating you well so far! If you are interested in a Middle Moon Malas quarter mala, I would be happy to create a beautiful design that supports you and your practice.  Just send me an email via the Contact Us page to begin.

Groundwork: Inviting the Shadow to Tea December 30, 2023 13:21

If you prefer to listen to this month's offering, please click HERE for the audio link.

I’m currently reading a book by Rob Preece. He’s a Tibetan Buddhist as well as a therapist (with Jungian leanings). Preparing for Tantra focuses on Buddhist preliminary practices, but he frames them through the lens of a Western perspective. I’m enjoying his book very much, and it is helping me prepare for Sravasti Abbey’s Retreat from Afar starting in January.

One of the major points that Preece emphasizes in this book is the importance of shadow work. He defines the term Shadow as “aspects of human nature that are repressed and held in the unconscious.” According to Preece, acknowledging and integrating the Shadow can be synonymous with groundwork.

In Buddhism, groundwork, or preliminary practices, can be connected to (but not limited to) mantra recitations, prostrations, and water bowl offerings. These rituals prepare the body, speech, and mind for more advanced meditation practices and study.

However, this idea of connecting groundwork to facing one’s Shadow fascinates me. For years, I would joke that I must have gotten turned around and lost in the Bardo and wound up with the wrong family in this lifetime. After reading this book, I no longer believe that.

Shadow memories and dark times have been bubbling to the surface for me recently, which is not unusual given the time of year. Winter is often the season for reflection for many people.

I wasn’t a practicing Buddhist as a kid, but I did grow up with challenging circumstances. I grew up in a home with a severely mentally ill parent. My mother had been diagnosed with many labels and had been prescribed many more combinations of psychiatric meds over the course of her adult life, but through the changing diagnoses and medications, she consistently remained incredibly unmotivated and self-absorbed. She often used her illness as an excuse to not do anything or go anywhere. She also milked it for all it was worth to manipulate family members and to garner constant favors and requests. My stepdad was frequently going to the store for her after coming home from work because she was “too sick” to go herself—and she never went with him.

We all walked on eggshells around her. Her depression took the entire family hostage, and each of us handled the fallout in different ways.

My stepdad escaped through work; he worked long hours and took several business trips to Mexico and Japan during this time period.  My sister and I both took refuge in music; she played the piano, and I played the violin, but we didn’t play together. I also loved to read and enjoyed escaping to the safety of novels and biographies.

Unfortunately, my mother’s illness didn’t bring us together. Instead, it forced us apart. It also didn’t help that I was the odd duck in the family. I was the oldest, and a child from my mother’s previous marriage, so I never felt like I fit into this new family unit (not fitting in is a big part of my Shadow work).

I was bullied at home. My stepdad was extremely demanding and critical with me, and he could be quite condescending and emotionally cruel, especially when no one was around to witness his cruelty.

My sister and I were four years apart in age. Consequently, we attended different schools and had different circles of friends. When we were together, we often argued. She was my stepdad’s biological child (and darling), and he treated her differently—he was much kinder and more patient with her than he was with me.

Both of my parents were emotionally unavailable for me at this time, and I desperately needed loving, compassionate guidance. Unfortunately, I was often left to fend for myself—and honestly—I was a weird kid—awkward, shy, socially clumsy, and hopelessly insecure.

During this time, when I was attending junior high school, we lived in an apartment complex. Unfortunately, I wasn’t just bullied at home—I was also bullied at school, too, mainly at the bus stop and on the bus.

I loved school—it was my safe space—but I hated the ride there and back.

Every morning, I carried my books and violin to the bus stop at the front of the apartment complex. It was a large shelter framed with dark wooden fencing on three sides and a roof, and it was always packed with kids from the complex. Several kids smoked cigarettes in the crowded shelter, and there were some “stoners” who smoked marijuana. I had enough craziness going on in my life; I didn’t need that, so I waited for the bus by the main road, away from the shelter.

I stood outside, rain or shine, by myself. Several kids hooted and jeered at me every morning when I walked by. Some even made animal noises at me. I ignored them, but it was HARD! On the outside, I may have appeared unfazed by their daily taunts, which carried over on the bus ride to and from school—every day—for three years. On the inside, however, I was a mess—a hollow, confused, traumatized mess.

I stood up (and out) by staying quiet, minding my own business, and enduring the daily barrage of ridiculous taunts.

I didn’t know it at the time, but upon reflection, this was my groundwork. This was a significant preliminary practice for me. I was not in a good place physically or emotionally during these junior high years. I did not feel safe, and I was not understood, adequately cared for, or appreciated. These were very hard times—for me and for my family.

Fortunately, things improved when I attended high school (and we moved out of the apartment complex). I got a job at a nearby Dairy Queen, not far from our new house. Between work and school, I didn’t have much time to spend at home, so the bullying subsided there, too.

****

These painful experiences helped me tremendously and led me to discover Buddhism. They helped me develop empathy and compassion for others, especially after I graduated from college and started my teaching career.

I knew what it felt like to be excluded, so I went out of my way to ensure that my students’ voices were heard and acknowledged. I never taught a class without including journal writings. It was a great way for them to practice their writing skills, and to express their thoughts and feelings.

Groundwork is the foundation from which everything else grows. It is dark soil, rich with rocky potential that requires hard work, patience, and dedication.

When I think about these early years, I realize how far I’ve come and how much I’ve grown, despite how much I suffered. I was traveling on the path before I even knew the path existed.

These dark, awkward times motivated me to continue to read, study, and learn. They taught me the importance of kindness, generosity, empathy, compassion, and joy. They inspired me to embrace connection and understand the importance of interdependence.

This groundwork encouraged me not only to keep going, despite the hardship and loneliness, but it also encouraged me to surround myself with others who were ethical, supportive, and kind.

This groundwork encouraged me to be observant and mindful—to set healthy boundaries—and to communicate clearly about what is OK and what is not.

My life is far from perfect. I continue to falter and make ridiculously stupid mistakes. The good news is, I have a loving family, I feel safe in my home, I have supportive, warm-hearted friends, and I have a meaningful Dharma practice to rely on daily.

I enjoy reading books like Rob Preece’s, I enjoy listening to and attending Dharma talks, I enjoy making time to meditate, recite mantra, make offerings, and do prostrations.

Remembering the dark times helps me to appreciate all that I have now. Those junior high days seem like many lifetimes ago, but I wouldn’t be who I am now if I hadn’t endured those challenges and struggles.

I have invited my Shadow to tea with this blog post, and I realize now that I did not get turned around in the Bardo and wind up in the wrong family. I ended up exactly where I was supposed to be, and I worked hard to cultivate a meaningful life for myself and others. I continue to do that work even now.

We are all works in progress, we all suffer in samsara, and we are all on the path helping each other learn, grow, and thrive, whether we realize it or not.

I hope 2024 treats you well. May you continue to learn, grow, practice, and thrive in the coming New Year. Please visit the current Middle Moon Malas online collection of hand-knotted malas. May they support and inspire your own personal practice. Know that you are always welcome to reach out via the Contact Us page for custom design requests as well.

Thanks for taking the time to read or listen to this month’s offering. Happy New Year!

Warmly,

Teresa

.Photo Credit: Luca N from Unsplash

Slow Down: Savoring the Practice of Pausing November 30, 2023 10:00

 If you prefer to listen to this month's offering, click HERE for the audio link.

At various times throughout this month, I have received several nudges from the universe to slow down. For example, as I was driving home from school a couple weeks ago, I slowed down while entering a roundabout. I heard a car horn beeping behind me, and from my side mirror, I saw a small blue car. Inside, a cranky man was shaking his fist at me, urging me to go-go-go.

Apparently, he didn’t notice the giant “YIELD” sign to our right—or the three cars whipping around the circle from the left, which motivated me to slow down and pause.

I gestured toward the fast-moving cars—but cranky man just shook his head in frustration. When it was safe, I entered the circle. Cranky man in the little blue car buzzed by me, irritated, agitated, and totally unaware that I was not just looking out for myself, but I was looking out for him and others as well.

***

Another nudge from the universe came in the form of a poem that I came across by one of my all-time favorite poets, Naomi Shihab Nye. This poem, “Every Day,” is from her collection A Maze Me: Poems for Girls, published in 2005.

Every Day

My hundred-year-old, next-door neighbor told me:

Every day is a good day, if you have it.

I had to think about that a minute.

She said, Every day is a present

someone left at your birthday place at the table.

Trust me! It may not feel like that,

but it’s true. When you’re my age,

you’ll know. Twelve is a treasure.

And it’s up to you

to unwrap the package gently,

lifting out the gleaming hours

wrapped in tissue,

don’t miss the bottom of the box.

Busyness is a habit of mind, and it can be an indication of an agitated nervous system. We are encouraged in American society to go-go-go, do-do-do, hurry-hurry-hurry, constantly chasing the mind as it leaps ahead into the future, leaving the body behind in a state of rattled confusion. The mind screams, “Look how busy I am! I am soooooo important!!!”

Right. I get it! I have certainly been caught up in this cycle. When I taught high school English, there were times when I was hyper-aware of the clock on the wall, and my days were measured in fifty-five-minute intervals, with ringing bells and five-minute passing periods. I remember the constant cycle of planning lessons and grading essays. I remember times when I was so focused on being prepared for anything that I was rarely focused on “what is” and present with my students sitting right in front of me. In other words, I was missing the bottom of the box.

Ironically, running around from task to task, obligation to obligation is just another form of laziness. According to Venerable Thubten Chodron, abbess of Sravasti Abbey in Washington state, “Being super-busy in a worldly way is another kind of laziness because it keeps us from our practice.”

***

A go-go-go, do-do-do, hurry-hurry-hurry mindset is a limiting one…and an exhausting one. It distracts us from what is most meaningful, and it prevents us from seeing the bigger picture.

Paradoxically, the most meaningful, big-picture moments, often involve taking the time to slow down, notice, and contemplate the small things:

*the rhythm and flow of the breath

*the syncopated sounds of rain on the roof

*a passage from a book or line from a poem that makes you stop, underline it, and read it again

*the sound of a child’s laughter in a grocery store

*watching leaves flutter to the ground

*watching the full moon shift and rise through bare branches

Small things, for me, are my portals to deep awareness.  Small things encourage me to slow down—to pause—to do less and enjoy more—and to notice, really notice, what’s going on around me.

I’ve also noticed that making time for consistent, daily practices (for me, that includes meditation, mantra recitations, and Feldenkrais lessons) increases the likelihood that I’ll notice and appreciate the small things with big-picture potential—these tiny portals of awareness.

***

The biggest nudge from the universe came the other morning when I made time to visit a dear friend and former colleague. She has survived more than one stroke, has experienced slow, but steady cognitive decline, and is currently recovering from a recent heart attack.

The hospital where she is staying is close to the school where I work as a part-time tutor, and I was able to spend time with her between student sessions.

When I walked into her room, she was sleeping. I talked to her while she rested, describing the view outside her window. I told her about the large, billowy clouds and the streaks of sunlight shining through them. I told her about the air traffic control tower that I could see from the nearby airport, and every few minutes, an airplane would rise up and disappear into the billowy clouds streaked with sunshine.

She was surrounded by gently beeping monitors and was covered with a fleece blanket with turkeys and pumpkins on it. A muted National Geographic program about Egyptian art was playing on the television.

A friend had visited her the day before and brought her a green stuffed rabbit. She hugged it close to her as she slept. The color made me think of Green Tara, and I softly sang the mantra to her like a lullabye: Om Tare Tutarre Ture Soha, Om Tare Tutarre Ture Soha, Om Tare Tutarre Ture Soha, Om Tare Tutarre Ture Soha…

I told her how grateful I was for her friendship over the years, how her mentorship was extremely helpful when I first started teaching.

I thought about all the places she’d traveled with her family, all the stories she’d shared about her adventures, and how much her students admired her.

I didn’t know if she would awaken while I was there, so I made the most of the time I had with her. I was fully present with her.

Fortunately, she did wake up after a short while, and we had time to chat. Her eyes lit up when she saw me; she was delighted to have someone waiting to talk with her when she woke up. She struggled to find words at times, and her mind would catch in cognitive loops, bringing the conversation around to the same topics or questions. She confused me for other friends at times, or one of her daughters, but it didn’t matter. I was happy to have time to see her and to talk with her.

This visit with my friend did not make me feel sad. Instead, I felt joyful and relieved to have a chance to thank her for all of her helpful advice and friendship over the years. I had time to hold space and be present with her while she slept and while she was awake.

Slowing down means savoring the present moment, accepting what is with grace and dignity.

Listening to nudges from the universe, taking in these small moments, and appreciating the joy of pausing—these are the “gleaming hours/ wrapped in tissue.” Paying deep attention to these portals of awareness: this, too, is practice.

I hope you all are finding joy during this Holiday Season. May you be able to slow down and appreciate your own portals of awareness during this time. Please know that I have added several new designs to the Middle Moon Malas online collection, and they make thoughtful gifts for loved ones who have a meditation practice, or for yourself. Please consider purchasing a hand-knotted mala design to inspire meaningful practice and to support a small business. Much gratitude!

Warmly,

 Teresa

Change Is Fantastic! Reframing Unexpected Surprises, Detours, and Obstacles October 30, 2023 18:15

 If you prefer to listen to this month's blog offering, please click HERE for the audio link.

I was driving in the car, headed to a dental appointment a few weeks ago. I was half-listening to an NPR interview with a scientist. I was taking an alternate route due to a massive construction project on I-465 and was laser-beam focused on driving. However, I heard a phrase that made me stop, literally, and pay attention.

The scientist being interviewed said, “Change is fantastic!”

My first thought was, that would make an excellent mantra! What a wonderful way to reframe unexpected surprises, detours, and obstacles.

Hearing this woman’s words changed (for the better) the rest of my commute. I was no longer thinking about the extra time that this alternate route was taking. Instead, I was able to appreciate the light traffic and fall scenery. My trip felt more like an adventure and an exploration than an inconvenience.

Not only did I arrive a few minutes early for my appointment, but I also discovered a new route in the process.

***

Most of us find change to be an unnerving, annoying inconvenience—sometimes, change can even seem terrifying. We often have a negative reaction to change, especially if we have expectations or attachments connected to the situation.

 We leave for work only to discover our car has a flat tire.

We spill coffee on our laptop.

The power goes out in the middle of our Zoom meeting.

 These unexpected twists and turns can, and do, happen at times, but humans are resilient. We are designed to adapt because we live in a world where change is a constant, unpredictable companion.

The good news is, the more we practice reframing unexpected changes with the mantra, “Change is fantastic!” the more effectively we can navigate even more serious changes like illness, death, natural disasters, and war.

***

The natural world is a beautiful reminder of the perpetual and cyclic nature of change.

At this time of year, deciduous trees in my town are bursting with color, and I love watching their leaves flutter to the ground. Soon, the air will be cold, and their branches will be bare—there is beauty in bare branches, too.

Change is Fantastic!

Flocks of birds are migrating south. Collectively, they undulate in waves across darkening skies streaked with the bold colors of autumn sunsets.

Change is Fantastic!

The squirrels in my yard are busy collecting and hiding acorns for the upcoming winter months. They, too, are preparing for fantastic changes.

***

Granted, some changes are easier to appreciate than others.

Celebrating birthdays, weddings, anniversaries, and graduations are just a few examples. It’s easy to recognize and rejoice the fantastic nature of these milestones.

I’ve worked in a high school setting for over three decades, and while most seniors look forward to graduation at the end of the school year, each year there are a few who dread it. These students have grown attached and accustomed to school life—the structure, the expectations, the routines and schedules. Even though they may complain about the workload (or the food in the cafeteria), school for them is predictable, familiar, and safe.

Some students are so resistant to change that they sabotage their own future success by failing key classes so they can’t graduate. For them, moving forward into new situations, opportunities, and circumstances is too uncomfortable or frightening. They believe that if they don’t graduate, their lives won’t have to change. Self-sabotage and stubborn stagnation are not effective coping mechanisms for navigating growth and progress. Unfortunately, these heart-breaking strategies aren’t just limited to seniors in high school.

***

Life is change!

While some changes are more comfortable to experience than others, even the lessons that devastating changes bring can be meaningful and profound.

Changes such as dealing with an illness, a sudden death, violent crime, war, or a devastating earthquake, flood, or wildfire—these are truly fantastic changes—but they don’t feel very fantastic. Instead, they can be overwhelming and traumatic.

These larger-than-life changes are formidable reminders of the importance of compassion and interdependence. Often, during profoundly difficult times, people come together to offer aid, support, and comfort. This interconnection enables us to see that what we do matters, and that our actions ripple and reach, creating an intricate tapestry of connections.

Such dramatic and jarring changes can also lead to equally dramatic realizations, understanding, and the motivation to act and respond in resourceful, beneficial ways. Big changes help us to see the bigger picture and the longer view.

Human beings are both fragile and resilient—vulnerable and strong. By accepting that change will be our constant companion throughout our lives, and by welcoming small changes with a light-hearted, open-minded attitude, these strategies can help us enjoy our current journey and prepare for bigger obstacles that may lie ahead.

***

As I was walking from the parking lot into school this morning, I noticed that the temperature had dropped by twenty degrees during my commute. The jacket that I was wearing wasn’t quite warm enough for this environmental change. However, the walk from my car to the front door was a short one, and I had a mantra that was just perfect for this situation: “Change is fantastic!”

Thank you for reading or listening to this month's offering. If you would like to embrace the upcoming, fantastic changes in your life with the help of a new mala, feel free to visit the latest MMM collection while you're here. I've added several new designs since Wellbeing Fest. 

Generosity, Stinginess, and Over-Giving: Intention Determines What's Too Much, Not Enough, or Just Right September 28, 2023 08:53

If you prefer to listen to this month’s article, please click HERE for the audio link.

In general, most people would agree that generosity is an important quality to cultivate, practice, and encourage in mainstream society. I also think that most people recognize that selfishness and stinginess are polar opposites to generosity. I would add, though, that over-giving is just as counterproductive as miserliness. Whenever giving and receiving are out of whack, stinginess and over-giving can rise to the surface and pollute the pond of generosity.

According to Venerable Thubten Chodron, Abbess of Sravasti Abbey, generosity is linked with wisdom and bodhichitta, and our far-reaching attitude or motivation behind giving to others is extremely important. “The mind is not really giving, if generosity is linked with pride,” she says.

If we give to others and then regret it later, if we give to those who won’t appreciate or need what we have to offer, or if we give in order to flaunt status or to dominate others, our gifts become tainted transactions. Not only do these gifts lose significance and meaning, but they also destroy any possibility of merit because our motivation wasn’t grounded in sincerity, respect, and humility.

When it comes to generosity, everything hinges on intention, and intentions aren’t always obvious or easy to detect from the perspective of the casual observer.

***
I grew up among family members who had serious baggage around generosity and sincere giving. For example, when I was a kid, it wasn’t uncommon for my mom to give a gift to my sister or me—only to take it back later. Usually, these were small things—a framed photograph, a pair of earrings, a book or a record—but, still—the taking back, usually motivated by regret or attachment on my mom’s part, felt like an “ungiving” as well as a covert power play.

A strange variation on a theme of this occurred many years later after Jim and I were married. My grandmother (my mom’s mom) had died, and my mother gave me a beautiful crystal candy dish. I was led to believe that it had belonged to my grandmother, and my mom gave it to me as a remembrance or keepsake of her mom.

I found out later that this same candy dish was actually a wedding gift that my aunt Christine (my mom’s sister) had given to Jim and me soon after we were married. Aunt Christine lived several states away, and she sent this gift to my mom’s address with the understanding that my mom would give it to us after our wedding.

Instead, my mom kept the crystal candy dish for herself, and then gave it to me several years later (out of consolation, or guilt). She never mentioned that Aunt Christine had given it to us many years beforehand. I discovered this many years later (from my aunt Christine)—and graciously thanked her for her generosity.

***
When I was a kid, gifts were transactional during the holidays. They were carefully counted, measured, and weighed. Often, my sister and I were given identical gifts to prevent any feelings of jealousy. Consequently, exchanging gifts in my family wasn’t open-hearted, generous, or even sincere. It was often an obligation laced with manipulation.

Withholding gifts and taking gifts back are forms of stinginess, selfishness, and emotional manipulation.

***
As a result, it took me a while to find a healthy balance between giving and receiving. Early on in my teaching career, for example, I made a habit of over-giving my time, effort, and resources, and I was exhausted and depleted as a result. Giving and doing so much for others while neglecting my own needs was not healthy or helpful.

Over-giving can also be a manipulative power play and a form of attention-seeking behavior. For example, I attended a dinner a few years ago with several friends. We met for a wonderful meal and an evening of camaraderie and connection. At the end of the evening, one of our friends volunteered to pay for everyone’s dinner. He sat at the head of the table and waved the waiter over with a flourish as he whipped out his credit card.

We had had gathered as individuals and as equals around a table, but my friend’s act of generosity struck me as just that—an act. I felt grateful, but I also felt uncomfortable. I wondered what his motivation was—was this an offering of sincere generosity? Was he flaunting his status? Was he claiming some sort of authority? Did he struggle with receiving? Was I being paranoid?

Clearly, I had a lot of questions, and it motivated me to consider my own intentions whenever I give to others. It also motivated me to consider HOW I give to others. For example, I’m a big fan of anonymous blessings and quiet contributions as opposed to showy public displays of generosity. I also prefer to give sincere, occasional compliments as opposed to over-the-top, gish-galloping geysers of flattery on the daily.

For me, one of the most important lessons that I’ve learned is that generosity doesn’t have to be material possessions or money. Time and attention are valuable gifts. Teaching is a generous offering. A meaningful conversation—a heart-felt card, letter, phone call, or text—a genuine smile and warm greeting—all of these can be sincere, generous gifts. What matters most is the intention—if the intention is respectful, kind, and compassionate—and devoid of desires or
agendas, then it is pure, it is valid, and it is more than enough.

***
According to the Psychology Today article, “Are You an Over-Giver?” Karen Kleiman, MSW, LCSW, asserts that over-giving is not a symptom of ultimate selflessness. Rather, it “essentially comes from an inability to receive.” Over-giving, like stinginess, is an indication that the balance of give and receive are out of alignment. Kleiman claims, “If you are unable to take in love, attention, or help from others and accept it completely, you are giving from an empty heart.” 

In over-giving, the gift is more about the giver than the recipient. In this article, Kleiman also includes a list of common indications that over-giving, rather than generosity, may be present:

1. It’s important for you to be the giver rather than the receiver in relationships.
2. It’s common for you to feel guilty when someone gives to you.
3. You tend to put the needs of others first and neglect your own.
4. You tend to apologize about not being able to give in the way that you’d like.
5. You are unable or uncomfortable about asking for help.
6. Your own insecurities are at the root of your tendency to over-give.
7. You over-give in order to feel loved, respected, valued, or admired.

***
In other words, over-giving fulfills unmet needs or serves an agenda, as opposed to generosity, which flows from sincerity, humility, and kind-heartedness.

I have certainly been guilty of both stinginess and over-giving many times in my life. I’ve experienced the tight pinch of restrictive stinginess, of not giving enough time, attention, or resources to others in need.

I have also experienced the expansive, controlling gluttony of over-giving: showering gifts or compliments to those who didn’t want, appreciate, or need my excessive offerings. 

Stinginess and over-giving are limited and limiting, and I am mindfully on the lookout for them in my own interactions with others.

Generosity is an important virtue—it’s one of the six perfections, and it’s usually first on the list! At the heart of healthy generosity is openness, kindness, and clarity. What is given is given (for keeps) with the sincere wish to benefit others in a humble, respectful, and appropriate way.

Thank you for taking the time to read or listen to this month’s offering. Please visit the Middle Moon Malas collection. Several new malas have been recently added. These malas make generous gifts for others and for yourself. May they be of benefit.

Photo Credit: Rui Silvestre courtesy of Unsplash