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. 

Interdependence and the Trip of a Lifetime: The Balance of Giving and Receiving December 31, 2022 13:33

(View from Namgyal Monastery, HHDL's temple in Dharamshala)

 

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

 

Americans, in general, are a bit fussy about independence. We like to be able to do things "all by ourselves," and many of us are hesitant to accept help from others. However, one of the biggest lessons that my Buddhist practice has taught me is that we are constantly riding the waves of our own personal and collective karmas, and that because of various causes and conditions, no one journeys through life alone--we are interdependent beings, whether we realize it or not. Life is more fun when you realize it, though.

I was very fortunate to be able to travel with a group of Dharma friends to India in November. We spent a week near a monastery in South India, and then we went to Dharamshala in North India for a week or so.

This truly was an amazing trip of a lifetime, and it would not have been possible without the presence, assistance, patience, kindness, compassion, generosity, expertise, and effort of many, many others.

One of the biggest lessons of this trip for me focused on the importance of giving and receiving--especially maintaining a healthy balance between these two actions.

 Too much giving--especially feeling pressured to give, can leave me feeling depleted and exhausted. By the same token, too much receiving makes me feel  uncomfortable, undeserving, selfish, and mired in the grippy tangle of attachment.

This trip was a beautiful dance of give and receive, and our group members were willing participants in its choreography. 

One of the things we were grateful for was the delicious food we enjoyed while in India. While we were in Delhi, we were invited to a dinner at the Tashi Kyil Guest House and were served steaming platters of momos, veggies, fresh bread, and cups of hot chai.

I remember hearing the clatter of dishes, pots, and pans--the hiss of steam--the spray of water in the kitchen. Many hands were involved in preparing this meal, and it was delicious.

We enjoyed all of the meals during our trip, whether they were served in fancy hotels or prepared in tiny local restaurants, like Dolma's Kitchen in Dharamshala, where all the food was made from scratch--the tea from the Norbulinka Cafe, the cheesecake and yogurt mousse from a tiny restaurant near Namgyal Monastery--and all those wonderful honey lemon ginger teas and cappuccinos.

No matter where we went, we were greeted with warm, smiling faces and sincere service. We pooled our rupees and took turns paying for each other's meals. It was a beautiful exchange of give and receive--one fueled by meaningful service and gratitude.

(Geshe Kunga treated us to tea at an outdoor cafe along the kora in Dharamshala)

We did not partake in street food. However, one of my favorite meals was "soup in a bucket." Our teacher, Geshe Kunga, who took very good care of us throughout this trip, sent us an urgent message one evening to come to the temple. We hurried down dark, crowded streets to Namgyal Monastery to be greeted by Geshe-lak, who served us steaming bowls of spicy vegetable soup with thick, hand-made noodles from a large metal bucket. He had sponsored a dinner and wanted to share it with us, too. Monks from Namgyal prepared it for their sangha members. We sat on metal benches at the Dalai Lama's temple and enjoyed the warm, savory soup that was lovingly prepared by many monks for the benefit of many others.

(Mmmm...mmmmm...good. Sangha members enjoying homemade soup)

Interdependence was literally all around us--and it was not limited to restaurants and coffee shops. It was with us in the bustling Delhi airport--it was with us in traffic as taxi drivers gracefully chauffeured us among other cars, trucks, tuk tuks, scooters, pedestrians, and even livestock on crowded streets.

Interdependence was with us as we navigated our way on foot through narrow alleyways of the Tibetan Quarter in Manju ka Tila, busy markets near Hubballi,  and the sloping network of streets in McCleod Ganj.

***

 We had so much to be thankful for on this trip, but the day before Thanksgiving, we had the opportunity of a lifetime--our group had an audience with His Holiness the Dalai Lama.

I can't begin to fathom all of the causes and conditions that had to align in order for this meeting to occur, but we were beyond appreciative.

I remember waking up at 3:00 AM in my hotel room at the Serkong House. I was too keyed up to practice, so I sat in bed and chanted the long Chenrezig mantra. I made a cup of tea, continued to chant, and waited.

Later, I showered, changed into a chupa (Traditional Tibetan dress) and pangden (apron) and met the rest of our group in the lobby at 6:15 AM.

We walked to the temple in the cool darkness. A black feral dog walked with us, escorting us most of the way to Namgyal Monastery. I was a little nervous about our meeting, but continuing to chant the Chenrezig mantra helped me remain calm, clear, and focused.

Geshe Kunga was waiting for us at the gate, and we walked to the office where we all took Covid tests. Our group was scheduled to meet with HHDL last that morning.

We showed our passports, went through security, and waited. We placed objects that we brought with us for HHDL to bless on a small table. I brought my white Selenite mala and a small quarter mala that I had made for someone special and gave these to the attending monk.

When it was time, our group was ushered upstairs to a room where couches and several chairs were arranged on either side of HHDL's seat in the middle of the room. Once we were seated, we remained very quiet as attending monks bustled quietly around us. One brought in a tray of beautiful statues and placed it on a nearby table.

We could hear groups of people just outside the door, and occasionally, HHDL's voice and gentle laugh as he patiently greeted those who came to see him, along with the rapid shutter clicks of a camera.  

We waited quietly in the room for thirty minutes or so. Geshe Kunga gave each of us a Medicine Buddha statue from the tray to offer to HHDL. We unfurled our khatags that we brought and rested the statues on them in our laps. Then, His Holiness quietly entered the room, flanked by attending monks who guided him to his seat. All of my nervousness melted away, and I felt very calm and at ease in his presence.

Takster Rinpoche, a young lama who is connected to our Bloomington center, was kneeling on the floor beside him. Our connection to this young lama is the reason why our group was here--and why this private audience was possible.

His Holiness was very kind and nurturing to the young Rinpoche. He affectionately touched his head and patted him as he talked to us. He encouraged Rinpoche to continue his studies, and he emphasized that this was very important. His sincerity and encouragement were quite moving for all of us, particularly for Rinpoche, who wept quietly as he spoke to him.

Afterwards, attending monks helped us to line up with our offerings. At the last moment, while I was waiting in line, one of the monks, Geshe Sangay, gave me a beautiful jeweled conch shell to offer as well.

My mind was calm, and my hands were full with beautiful offerings. When it was my turn, I knelt down before HHDL as attending monks collected the offerings; in turn, they gave me a small Buddha statue that had been blessed by HHDL. We met eyes and smiled. He held my gaze briefly, leaned forward to pat my cheek, and brought his forehead to touch mine.

No words were spoken--and they weren't necessary-- it was merely a quiet exchange of sincerity, joy, compassion, and gratitude.

He placed the khatag around my neck, attending monks helped me to my feet, and they led me out of the room.

Our group gathered our things and blessed items and took several group photos in front of the temple. We walked back to the Serkong House for breakfast in a blissful state--among fellow pedestrians, scooters, tuk tuks, vendors, monastics, and feral dogs. I have never felt a stronger sense of connection to all of humanity in my life. I felt calm, connected, and interconnected to everyone and everything around me. It was a beautiful experience and a memory that I will treasure always.

 (Meeting HHDL was a joy)

(Dharma friends with HHDL)

 

 (Group photo with our group outside HHDL's office)

***

Every day of this trip was an adventure, and every day revealed the reality and significance of interdependence.

Meeting His Holiness was an amazing and meaningful opportunity, but I was hoping to meet someone else who was just as special to me.

I have been sponsoring a nun through the Tibetan Nuns Project for several years. Venerable Tsundue Palmo resides at Tilokpur nunnery, which is about an hour away from Dharamshala. Before our trip, I had reached out to TNP administrators to see if it would be possible to arrange a visit during our trip. Our schedule was tight and unpredictable, but many hearts and hands came together again to bring Venerable to Dolma Ling, a nunnery much closer to Dharamshala.

Honestly, I was a little more nervous about meeting her than I was meeting HHDL. Our group had rented a car and traveled to Gyuto Monastery first. The buildings were painted bright yellow, birds were everywhere, and young monks were chanting mantras from open windows. It was a beautiful, sunny day--Thanksgiving Day in the U.S.

Then, we traveled to nearby Dolma Ling and met with Tenzin, who helped make this meeting possible. After a few minutes, a car arrived at the nunnery, and I was able to meet Ven.Tsundue Palmo in person. I was surrounded by my Dharma friends when Tenzin introduced us. I offered Venerable a khatag, a donation in a bright orange envelope, and the quarter mala that I had made for her, which had been blessed by HHDL the day before. 

Venerable was very soft-spoken, peaceful, and pleasant. Tenzin took us on a tour of Dolma Ling nunnery, and we stopped by the office so my friends could make prayer requests and donations to TNP. Then, we invited Venerable to join us for lunch at nearby Norbulinka, a beautiful monastery with a museum, restaurant, and gift shop.

Another member of our group, Victor, happened to be connected with the project manager at Norbulinka, Nyima, and she graciously treated our group to lunch and a tour of Norbulinka. It was another wonderful day--and interdependence made it all possible.

It was a joy meeting Venerable in person, and it definitely strengthened my motivation to continue to support her and the Tibetan Nuns Project.

 

 (Victor taking a photo of me offering a khatag to Venerable Tsundue Palmo)

 (Venerable and I --a joyous meeting)

(Venerable after lunch at Norbulinka)

 

***

Our group was riding the waves of our collective good karma, but it wasn't finished with us yet. Another member of our group, David, had met with Rinchen Khando Choegyal years ago when he had traveled to India in the 70s. This previous meeting with her was extremely inspiring and meaningful for him, so he reached out and managed to arrange a private audience with her and our group.

Rinchen-lak is the founder and special advisor of The Tibetan Nuns Project. She is the former Minister of Education in the Tibetan Government-in-Exile, and she is the founding President of the Tibetan Women's Association. Oh, and she's also HHDL's sister-in-law.

Later in the week, we rented a car and drove to Kashmir Cottage to meet with her. We were seated in a small, airy room where her attendant brought us glasses of ginger tea.

 She was very kind and generous with her time. We talked with her for an hour. She told us that her family was originally from Kham in Tibet, and her family came to India in 1958, a year before the Chinese invaded Tibet.

She came from a wealthy family and was able to attend school. Rinchen-lak later married the Dalai Lama's brother, and she started a bakery to provide food for other Tibetan refugees. She also helped provide clean water for the nuns at Tilokpur (the same nunnery where Ven. now resides) and opened Kashmir Cottage as a guest house.

She worked very hard to ensure that the nuns were fed and cared for--that they had qualified teachers and received a good education. She emphasized practical, foundational matters, tending to the physical wellbeing and mental health for the nuns as well as practicing Dharma.

Rinchen-lak was a kind-hearted, generous host, but in hearing her story, she was also wise, fiercely determined, and dedicated to helping the Tibetan people and to preserving the Dharma and Tibetan culture. Her work in educating and supporting Tibetan Buddhist nuns is beyond inspiring, and her primary message to us was..."For everything that you have, now it is time to give something back."

This is the essence of interdependence.

(Rinchen Khando Choegyal at Kashmir Cottage)

(David expresses his gratitude)

 

(Dharma friends with Rinchen-lak)

 These were just some of the highlights of our trip to India. There were actually many other examples and many more wonderful people that I could have mentioned in this article. 

I am very grateful to have experienced all of the events of this trip with my Dharma friends. Much gratitude to Geshe Kunga and TMBCC for making this trip possible. My hope is that sharing these moments with you will be of benefit as well.

May you give and receive with an open heart.

May you graciously accept help from others and offer help when you can.

May 2023 offer you many blessings, adventures, and opportunities.

May you continue to learn, grow, practice, and flourish in the coming New Year.

 (Geshe-lak flanked by monk friends in Dharamshala)

 

 

 

 

Change Is Happening in This Space: Evidence of Growth from Daily Mantra Practice November 20, 2021 15:15

If you prefer to listen to this month's blog post, please click here for an audio file.

 

I had a friend ask me recently how my mantra practice has changed my life or made a difference in my life.

At first, I mentioned small things--like finding joy and appreciating everyday moments--the burst of color of autumn leaves...watching a child toddle toward a school bus in the morning and not feeling impatient about having to wait in traffic, but taking a moment to enjoy the moment.

However, it occurred to me later that there was a more significant change that I've noted recently. It has taken time to develop, and it has evolved and morphed very slowly and gradually. 

This change that I've noticed is that I am not feeling the need to elaborate on situations, events, or occurrences, especially those that made me feel unsettled, agitated, annoyed, or even traumatized.

Before I started a daily mantra practice, I was prone to oversharing details--whether good, bad, or indifferent. I felt inclined to justify myself or over explain even the most mundane occurrences. I wanted others to know "the whole story."

In recounting the details, especially of unsettling stories, I would relive the suffering of the original encounter, and I also ran the risk of causing suffering for others by spewing these details, too.

However, I've noticed a significant change in this pattern since I've been practicing regularly. I've caught myself on three separate occasions recently.

For example, I recently attended the Bands of America Grand Nationals Competition in Indianapolis. A friend of mine saw my FB post and sent me a private message asking if I knew a friend of hers who is a choreographer of band shows and who also happens to be a Buddhist teacher.

I messaged in response, "I know of him," but that was it. I steered the written conversation toward the current performances and how talented the musicians were. In other words, I didn't feel the need to mention or dredge up any unpleasant details. 

I actually did have an unusual exchange a few years ago with this friend of hers. He wanted to argue about an article I had shared online about meditation, and when I didn't engage, he became increasingly more judgmental and angry. Ultimately, he got the last word with a snarky remark and then blocked me from his page.

Even these are bare-bones details. I don't feel the need, even now, to recount the entire story. It's water under the bridge. I also don't need this person's approval or friendship, and I didn't feel the need to bring up an inconsequential conflict now with the friend who messaged me. These details from the past were irrelevant to the current conversation.

I left it at, "I know of him."

In another recent conversation with a friend, this time a spoken one, we were discussing our Tibetan language lessons. I mentioned that I had changed textbooks, and that I had found another book that was more helpful for me.

I didn't feel the need to elaborate on the specific reasons or explain why the other text was not a good fit for me. I didn't mention the poor organization, the occasional misspellings, the firehose-type spray of overwhelming information in each chapter, which was incredibly anxiety-triggering for me.

Instead, I left it at, "I found another book that motivates me to learn," and we continued on with our conversation.  

Finally, this pattern has not just had an impact on written and spoken conversations with others. It has also had an impact on my own private thoughts.

Last week I was at home sweeping the kitchen floor when I thought about a teacher who used to be at the Dharma center that I currently attend. He's since moved on to another center on the East Coast.

Instead of rehashing and ruminating about the handful of brief encounters when I had observed him being judgmental of others or rude to me, I simply stopped these thoughts with another one--"He's not my teacher."

This single thought put a stop to an unnecessary, negative thought spiral, and it allowed me to be present with what I was doing instead.

In essence, my daily mantra practice is preventing and stopping cycles of suffering for others and for myself.

I am choosing my words and thoughts more carefully, I am more engaged with people in the present moment, and I'm less likely to overshare or overshadow conversations with unnecessary editorializing and kvetching.

Even in my own head, I'm not allowing unpleasant memories or judgments to interfere with the present moment.

In short, I'm letting the irrelevant and negative details go. They don't serve others, they don't serve me, and they don't serve my practice.

I'm grateful for my friend for asking her question--and I'm grateful for having opportunities to notice this change in my thinking and my practice. I'm also hopeful that continuing to practice will bring about even more beneficial changes in the future.

My hope is that your personal practice benefits you as well as others, too.

__

By the way, the Indy Holistic Hub Wellbeing Fest in Indianapolis earlier this month was a big success. Several beautiful malas found new homes, and I am working steadily to add new designs to the online shop. Please visit middlemoonmalas.com to view the current and ever-growing collection. 

 

Movement and Mantra: Connecting Breath, Body, Heart, and Mind January 28, 2021 09:17

If you prefer to listen to this month's blog post, (and you might since I've included a mini-meditation in this article) please click here.

I started my morning with a Feldenkrais lesson. 

It wasn't something I had planned to do, although I typically do practice some sort of Awareness Through Movement lesson at some point during the day. However, today, I happened to catch Joe Webster's live class on his Thoughtful Movements FB group.

Joe is a Feldenkrais practitioner in London, and typically, when he teaches his live classes, it is very early in the morning for me. Luckily, I was awake today and decided to practice with him.

I was still in bed, and even though he instructed us to do the lesson in a seated posture, I decided to practice lying down. I scooched pillows out of the way so I could stretch out comfortably. Maya was curled up at my feet snoring softly.

This morning's lesson was very subtle--focusing on the breath and the connection between the ribs and the vertebrae of the thoracic spine--more specifically, the thick, cartilaginous discs between each vertebra.

Joe has a very soothing, calming voice, and he began the lesson by inviting us to focus on our breathing--to notice how the chest cavity would gently rise and fall with the breath.

Then, he asked us to imagine the vertebrae of the middle back spine--to notice how these bones would gently lift on each inhalation, and then softly fall back on each exhalation.

He led us through an investigation of each disc between the twelve vertebrae of the thoracic spine. We spent a few minutes on each disc--observing the breath (about ten breaths for each disc)--and imagining each disc rise and fall softly with our breathing.

Joe didn't suggest this, but I realized that ten breaths and eleven discs add up to about 108, so I decided to incorporate a simple mantra into this early morning practice. (There are perks to being a bit of a rebel--I found doing this lesson lying down on a soft surface to be extremely helpful, and incorporating a mantra practice with it was the icing on the meditative cake!)

The mantra I chose was Aham Prema. It is a short, simple, and powerful Sanskrit mantra that translates as "I am Divine Love."

As I imagined each thoracic disc rising gently on the inhalations, I imagined the Sanskrit word Aham.

With each exhalation, as the disc moved back toward the soft mattress, I imagined the word Prema.

Gently, slowly--visualizing each disc nestled between the vertebrae, the chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. The spine responding to this gentle, effortless flow, and the mantra steadily leading, guiding, and unifying the practice.

This subtle Feldenkrais lesson became more than an embodied somatic practice. The mantra transformed it into a powerful meditation connecting breath, body, heart, and mind.

As Joe led his listeners through each pair of vertebrae--and each disc in the middle back spine--a journey was unfolding for me:

I imagined the disc nestled between T-1 and T-2

On the deep inhalation: Aham

and with it...deep gratitude.

On the slow, steady exhalation: Prema

 

I imagined the disc between T-2 and T-3

On the inhalation: Aham

and with it...profound understanding.

On the slow, gentle exhalation: Prema

 

I visualized the disc between T-3 and T-4

On the next inhalation: Aham

and with it...selflessness.

On the relaxed, easy exhalation: Prema

 

I visualized the disc between T-4 and T-5

On the next, deep inhalation: Aham

and with it...transcendence.

On the slow exhalation, Prema

 

I imagined the disc between T-5 and T-6

On the inhalation: Aham

and with it...meaningful service.

On the steady exhalation: Prema

 

I imagined the disc between T-6 and T-7

On the next inhalation: Aham

and with it...safe refuge.

On the next, deep exhalation: Prema

 

I imagined the disc between T-7 and T-8

On the steady inhalation: Aham

and with it...connection.

On the release of the exhalation: Prema

 

I imagined the disc between T-8 and T-9

On the next inhalation: Aham

and with it...a vast, infinite expanse.

On the exhalation: Prema

 

I visualized the disc between T-9 and T-10

On the inhalation: Aham

and with it...deep healing.

On the exhalation: Prema

 

I visualized the disc between T-10 and T-11

On the next, slow inhalation: Aham

and with it...forgiveness.

On the next, deep exhalation: Prema

 

Finally, I imagined the disc between T-11 and T-12

On this next inhalation: Aham

and with it...compassion.

On this next, slow exhalation: Prema

 

One of the benefits of having a regular mantra practice is the ability to incorporate the practice into daily tasks and parallel interests. I've found that mantra practice makes everything better. It improves focus, enhances the state of being present, and makes tasks and activities more meaningful and interesting.

This lesson and mantra practice was a wonderful way to start my day.

 For those of you who may be interested in exploring this Feldenkrais lesson with Joe Webster, click HERE for the YouTube recording of the lesson.

For those of you who prefer to chant mantra with a beautiful mala--or if you would like to share a mala with a friend or loved one, please visit the Middle Moon Malas online shop HERE.

 

 

  

Rest, Relax, and Abide: Finding Confidence and Courage on Retreat September 20, 2019 16:50

I'm not big on traveling. I like to travel occasionally, but I really have to be motivated, especially if it's a solo adventure. Crowded airports are stressful for me, and I'm not the greatest with directions, so I get turned around and lost very easily. 

Recently, I had an opportunity to attend a retreat and hear Her Eminence Jetsun Khandro Rinpoche teach at her Lotus Garden Retreat Center in Stanley, VA. I listen to her teachings and interviews online, and I have read her book, This Precious Life, so when I heard about this retreat, I was really motivated to go and hear her teach in person. The first step in dealing with any plan, obstacle, or challenge, is generating and maintaining the right motivation. Check!

Since the closest airport to Lotus Garden was two hours away, I decided the best option was to drive. I've taken shorter trips by myself before, but this was a ten-hour trip spanning four states. Needless to say, this was a big leap for me, and one well beyond my comfort zone.

After printing out directions, checking with my insurance to make sure I had roadside assistance, packing up the car, setting the GPS on my phone, I was ready to go. I even had a conversation with my teacher, Geshe Kunga, to let him know I was leaving. He was kind enough to give me an amulet to keep with me on my trip, instructed me to chant the Green Tara mantra, and said he would offer prayers of protection as well. Preparation and much-needed Support! Check and Check!

I chanted mantra the entire time I was on the road headed to Mindrolling Lotus Garden Retreat Center. Alternating between the 100-syllable Vajrasattva and the Green Tara mantra, I recited, in part, to help me stay focused, but more importantly, to manage my anxieties and fears of getting lost (which is ridiculously easy for me), breaking down, or getting run off the road by a runaway semi.

Chanting mantra helped me stay grounded, rooted in the present moment, and it added a welcome element of familiarity to a long journey full of change and unfamiliar landscapes. In short, mantra practice brought me safely to Lotus Garden.

It also served me throughout the retreat as well--from daily morning and evening prayers in the shrine room with the other retreatants to personal practice time in between teachings. I thoroughly enjoyed chanting quietly as I walked around the large lotus pond and along threadline paths that had gorgeous views of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

As the week progressed, I could sense my own confidence level increasing, as well as my ability to simply rest and be in the moment. One of my favorite meditation sessions was outdoors. Each retreatant (150 in all) was given a small tent to pitch along the grounds. Once our tents were ready, we were given a sack dinner, a chair, and instructions to meditate for three hours. The instructions were as follows: to simply relax, abide, and allow for the duration of the session.

Our session began in the late afternoon and ended in early evening. I pushed the chair out of my tent and lay on the ground in constructive rest pose. A somatic meditation approach was exactly what I needed to remain grounded and aware of everything shifting around me: 

patterns of light and shadow on the mountains

clouds drifting, gathering, and dispersing

a large spider busily spinning a web at the apex of of my tent

bird song shifting to chirping crickets

daylight easing into darkness

intermittent sneezes, coughs, the rustling of sandwich wrappers

and eventually, the sound of tent zippers, shoes on stiff grass and gravel as we made our way back to our rooms by flashlight

Over the course of the week, I noticed that my confidence and courage had increased dramatically, and my tendency to worry had diminished. Rinpoche's teachings surpassed my expectations. She was incredibly detailed, clear, and insightful. I enjoyed connecting with other practitioners as well. Even though the Mindrolling lineage was new to me, we had more commonalities than differences. I also enjoyed being able to take the time to improve my own practice in a fresh, unfamiliar environment.

I enjoyed my stay, and by the end of the week, I was eager to make my way home. Cell phone service was very spotty in this isolated area, so I had to rely on my printed instructions to lead me back to the highway. Ordinarily, this would be a cause for major concern, but I had the motivation, confidence, curiosity, and courage to find my way without worry or unnecessary anxiety (and I didn't get lost).

I also enjoyed the trip home, more confident in my independence and in my ability to navigate change: to rest--to relax--and to abide in this journey, and in all future adventures to come.

 

Personal and Public Practice: Striking a Balance June 14, 2019 12:27

 

I love my personal practices (meditation, mantra recitations, somatic movement), but I also enjoy sharing a common space with other practitioners, too.

Whether you're an introvert or an extrovert, ideally, a healthy spiritual practice requires a blend of both private and group settings in order to foster personal growth and social connections. 

Benefits of Personal Practice

Privacy and Agency: 

I begin each morning with a sadhana practice that my teacher gave to me. I sit in bed in my jammies while my dog and cat sleep on either side of me, and I recite, chant, and visualize the practice in the privacy of my own home. 

If I'm at school, and I have a few minutes between student tutoring sessions, I'll walk around the track and chant mantra. Adding movement to a japa practice with a little fresh air and sunshine is a great way to boost my energy and stay focused and sharp for my students. 

I also like to chant if I'm in the car alone on a long commute. It helps me to stay focused while I'm driving, and it's also a great way to ward off stress and anxiety during rush hour.

In the evenings, I sit on a cushion near my altar space to meditate. I'll light a candle or a stick of incense and practice for an hour. If I'm tired, sometimes I'll practice lying down on the floor. I have options--and I've learned the importance of being gentle with myself and taking care of myself as I practice.

Recently, I've discovered some wonderful Feldenkrais lessons online. I love ending each day with a movement lesson. I'm on a circular green mat in my living room. The lights are dim--the TV is on mute, if it's on at all, and it's just me, myself, and the movement practice.

Having the space and time to deepen and explore my own practices on my own terms and in my own way is nourishing and delicious to my spirit. I absolutely need the privacy and the time to practice every day in order to function properly.

Benefits of Public Practice

Connection and Support: 

 There's something really beautiful about sharing the practice and the space with other meditators or movers, too, however. In the last year, I have attended three, week-long retreats at a meditation center in Colorado.  Meditating in a large  group is very different from a session in the home space. Not only are you sharing a common physical space, and typically you're sitting very close to one another, but you're also holding space for each other in a communal practice setting. In this environment, you pick up on the subtle energies of the location and on the other practitioners around you.

The last time I was in Crestone, I kept getting images of eyes--close-up, huge, luminous eyes--of horses, of people, of cartoonish animated characters--big eyes everywhere! I'm not sure whose energy I was tapping into, but I was accessing unusual images and cultivating opportunities to sit with these differences in a non-judgmental way. It was interesting...and challenging.

Practicing in a group also lends itself to learning new ideas and strategies, too. I saw so many creative prop arrangements for seated meditation when I shared the space with 100 other meditators.

I recently started attending somatic movement classes. It's been nearly two years since I practiced in a group setting. I used to practice and teach yoga at a local studio, but I've since become a "reformed yogi" and prefer Feldenkrais lessons and other alternative movement modalities. I've missed the camraderie and friendship that practicing in a group environment can bring, and I'm so glad that I've found a local somatic group that I can practice with and feel safe. They are warm-hearted, friendly, and accepting. Having the courage to step out into a group space again has been a little unsettling, but it's important to nudge yourself beyond the boundaries of your comfort zone every once in a while. 

Practicing with a group is great, if the group dynamics are supportive and healthy. It took me some time to heal and deepen my own personal practices before I was ready to join another group, but I'm really glad I did. That supportive connection with others is so important.  

The closest I've come to chanting in a group setting is when I've attended an occasional kirtan event. Chanting and singing Sanskrit mantra with musicians in a group setting is a blast! It's an uplifting way to connect with others and clear away the energetic cobwebs. No one leaves a kirtan event depressed or angry.

I've also attended pujas and ceremonies at TMBCC in Bloomington where Tibetan monks have chanted prayers, sometimes for hours at a time. The energy of the temple is transformed when a group of a dozen or so monks are chanting. It is an energetically moving and powerful experience.

Introverts will gravitate to their own personal practices, and extroverts will undoubtedly be drawn to the public ones, but it's important for everyone to engage in both personal and public practices in order to benefit themselves and share these rewards with others.

For more information, or to view the online mala collection, visit www.middlemoonmalas.com. 

How Mantras and Memorization Benefit the Brain February 1, 2018 18:30

I spent nearly a week memorizing a new mantra. Most of the mantras I work with are in Sanskrit, but I came across a Tibetan mantra that resonated with me. The Guru Rinpoche mantra is only eight lines long, but learning it was slow-going and challenging. I don't read the Tibetan language (same is true for Sanskrit), so memorizing a transliterated text is a lot like learning a language within another language, and as a visual learner, it offered a new set of challenges for me. The sounds were new. The combinations of syllables were clumsy and awkward at first. From the outset, memorizing eight short lines seemed very daunting. 

I work as a tutor at a local high school, so in between student sessions, I listened to an audio recording of a lama chanting the mantra over and over again (thank goodness for YouTube). My commute home is usually 30-45 minutes long, depending on traffic. Each afternoon I chanted two lines of the mantra while driving home. On Monday, I worked with the first two lines. Tuesday, the second pair, etc The chanting was very slow at first. There were long pauses and hesitations as I worked to find the right sounds in the right order. I had to remain intensely focused, not only on driving, but on reciting each line over and over again. Slowly, over the course of the week, I was able to chant the entire mantra. It required time, effort, and painstaking dedication, but it was worth it. Not only do I have another sound tool to play with in my energetic repertoire and practice, but I did something good for my brain, too. Here are some of the benefits of memorization:

* Mental Flexibility and Agility

Just as consistent, challenging exercise benefits the body, memorization is a useful way to stimulate the brain. Functioning like "mental gymnastics," memorization makes the brain more quick, agile, and flexible.

* Improved Neural Plasticity

Medical research has found that rote memorization benefits the hippocampal foundation, which is crucial for episodic and spatial memory in humans. In a recent Irish study of participants aged 55-70, researchers concluded that repeated activation of memory structures in the brain promote neural plasticity in the aging brain. In other words, we need to use it, or we're going to lose it.

* Improved Focus and Creativity

Working memory involves storing, focusing attention on, and manipulating information for a relatively short period of time. According to Paula Fiet of Weber State University, working memory is essential for learning to occur. Completing exercises (such as memorizing a new mantra) that are aimed at building short-term memory benefits our capacity to learn and to focus. 

Working memory is also important for creativity.  Dutch researchers have concluded that those who learn to focus and develop their working memory through memorization tasks can free their mind in order to pursue other creative tasks.

* Delayed Cognitive Decline

Researchers from the National Institute on Health and Aging (NIHA) found that adults who engaged in short bursts of memory training maintained higher cognitive function delays. Memorization and other memory training exercises can delay cognitive decline for 7-14 years. So, memorizing mantras can help you stay sharp for years to come.

Over the next forty days or so, I plan to work with this new Guru Rinpoche mantra along with a mala (not while driving, though :). I like the idea of starting the New Year with a new mantra and a new sadhana. I'm looking forward to seeing where this mantra will take me in my practice--how it will benefit my subtle body as well as my mind and body. I'll be sure to keep you posted. In the meantime, find a mantra that resonates with you, and commit it to memory. 

 T

  

the data mentioned in this post came from the following source:

*"In Praise of Memorization: 10  Proven Brain Benefits" (http://www.bestcollegesonline.com/blog/in-praise-of-memorization-10-proven-brain-benefits/)

 

  

Beauty...Beads...Breath: Practical Alternatives to a Chanting Practice October 5, 2017 19:43

 

 I have a friend who loves malas, and she's purchased several Middle Moon Malas and requested various custom designs; however, she's not big on chanting. She recently asked me if chanting mantras was required. She was concerned that she was misusing her malas by not incorporating a japa or chanting practice. My response--absolutely not, and I offered her the following simple alternatives.

* Setting an Intention

Setting an intention or offering a dedication at the start of a yoga class can add even more meaning and significance to the practice. Similarly, setting an intention before donning a mala can be a powerful part of a yoga or meditation practice. It can serve as a meaningful reminder throughout the day, and it can help bring your meditation or mindfulness practice from the cushion or mat into your daily life. 

Let's say you set an intention to be more present, more focused on the here and now. Each time you catch a glimpse of the beads around your neck or resting on the corner of your mat, each time you feel the beads against your skin or feel the weight of the mala as it shifts and moves across your body, as you shift and move throughout your day, these all serve as reminders of your intention. Be here. Be present. Be aware of this moment.

My intention with Middle Moon Malas has always been to create designs that are both functional and beautiful. Many of my customers tell me that they frequently receive compliments on their unique designs. Each compliment, each inquiry can also be reminders--be present--be here--be in this moment. No chanting necessary.

*Working with Breath

Another alternative to chanting is to incorporate a breath practice. Variety is important and valuable to just about anything in life. Just as practicing the same physical poses over and over can lead to repetitive stress and injury, mindlessly chanting the same mantra can lead to boredom and lack of focus.

There are no benefits to simply repeating or chanting a mantra--sharp focus and clarity of mind are essential to any meditation practice. Sometimes it's good to shake things up and add something different to the practice.

While I do have a daily recitation practice, sometimes I'll sit with my mala and let the breath be my focus. My right hand thumb and second finger on the first bead next to the guru, I take a long, slow inhalation. At the peak of the inhale, my fingers slide to the second bead, and I release a long, slow exhalation. One inhale, one exhale at a time, shifting to the next bead during the pauses between breaths. Again, no mantra, no chanting required. The breath becomes the focal point--the beads become tactile and visual reminders to remain present. Each sustains the other--to remain present--to breathe--and to be.    

 As with any practice, it's important to do what resonates with you. If chanting works for you, great! If not, great! You have options and choices. The important point is to cultivate a meaningful practice that is beneficial to you and that works for you.

One, Two, Three: Counter Beads and the Purposes They Serve September 6, 2017 18:20

 

 What are counter beads, and why do some malas have them? A standard mala contains 108 beads; however, some malas include counter beads as well. These beads aren’t randomly placed extras. A japa practice is similar to a road trip, and counter beads can play an important part along the path of this mindful, meditative journey.

ONE: PAUSE

One of the primary purposes of counter beads is they act as rest stops or pause points in a meditation practice. Just like the brief pause at the peak of an inhalation, and the suspension at the base of an exhalation, counter beads can act as natural pauses in the recitation practice. They give practitioners a moment to hold space and take stock of the quality of the practice in that moment. The point of a japa practice isn’t simply to barrel through 108 recitations of a mantra. It’s not a race, and there isn’t a trophy waiting for us at the end of the finish line. A mantra practice is about training the mind; it’s about aligning and elevating our energetic frequencies so that we can become our best selves, and experience a sense of connection and interconnection with others and our world. There needs to be a balance between effort and rest, so in our practice, when our inner world is calling, counter beads remind us, “Please hold.”

TWO: PRESENCE

Another important purpose that counter beads offer is they act as mindfulness markers in the practice. Much like street signs or mile markers on a highway, counter beads remind us to stay present, focused, and alert in our practice. They encourage us to drive safely and to stay on course as we navigate the circuit of our mala. They help prevent our minds from wandering away from our intentions, and they prevent us from getting caught up in a tangle of mental chatter. Counters help to gauge both time and distance in our practice, and they can ease the restless monkey mind when it asks, repeatedly, “Are we there, yet?”

THREE: PIZZAZZ

Finally, counter beads can add a little bling, shimmer, and character to the mala and to the meditative journey. Much like fuzzy dice, a bumper sticker, or fancy detailing on a car, jazzy counter beads add a little bit of extra sparkle to help bring balance to the design of  a mala. As a designer, I like to add counter beads that are different sizes, shapes, colors, or textures to break up the pattern of the design. Sometimes, it’s just a single counter bead after the 54^th bead, or midpoint. Some malas include counters after bead #27 and #81, marking the first quarter and the last quarter of the design. For other pieces, I incorporate three counters, dividing the mala into four equal segments. Counters can be aesthetically pleasing to the eye or to the touch, offering visual or tactile interest to a design, which, as an added bonus, can inspire a meditator to practice, or simply make the journey more personalized, pleasing, or fun.  

 Whether you prefer a mala that includes counter beads or not, a japa practice is a meaningful journey, and having a mala that motivates you to practice and that reflects your intentions will help you grow and enjoy the ride.

Completing the Circuit: Adding Variety to a Mantra Practice September 5, 2016 14:03

I like variety, as well, so sometimes, I chant while sitting on a meditation cushion.  Sometimes, I chant silently.  Sometimes, I write out the mantra in a small notebook. Sometimes, I chant aloud while driving, but my favorite way to practice is to chant while walking.

One Breath, One Bead at a Time. July 4, 2016 16:04

The Zombie Apocalypse is real. For 25 years, I taught high school English. For many of those years, I felt trapped in a perpetual cycle of planning lessons, creating tests and essay assignments, grading papers, and attempting to manage and meet the academic needs of students crammed in over-crowded classrooms.  I often felt confined by the clock and by the ever-present and perpetually-increasing demands that a data-driven system thrives on—the almighty standardized test scores.

I felt stressed—all the time—and I spent very little time in the present moment.  This constant striving, doing, rushing, pushing, and grasping for the future or ruminating and worrying about the past kept me from meeting the needs of my students and taking care of myself. It also kept me out of the present moment, and it prevented me from enjoying my life. My students never really knew who I was—and neither did I.

For a quarter of a century, I was caught up in a trance, and yoga and meditation gradually helped me break the spell and encouraged me to find balance and purpose in my life.

My first experience with yoga and meditation occurred when I was a freshman at Butler. A guest speaker came to our Physical Education/Health class.  My fellow classmates and I were crammed into a small classroom/storage room, and many of us giggled our way through the guided meditation followed by a brief asana practice in the gym.  This was not an ideal environment to explore the benefits of meditation and yoga, and it certainly didn’t leave a lasting or accurate impression on me.  

I revisited meditation when I was pregnant with my daughter in 1994, and in 2000, started regularly attending a yoga class at a local gym. Progress was glacially slow—but gradually, very gradually, I started to find a respite from the 10,000 distractions and thoughts that blocked my path, and I started to connect and reconnect with myself.

Stilling the constant mental chatter in meditation was a big challenge in the beginning—and still can be at times, even now. But with consistent practice, and, ideally, after an hour of asana practice, it’s much easier to climb inside the present moment.  Memories, thoughts, and feelings still rise to the surface, but it’s easier now to briefly acknowledge them, allow them to drift away in order to make room for the spaces between thoughts.

Yoga, too, has helped. It has helped me focus on my breathing—and to bring my awareness out of the mind and into the body—even for just a little while. Yoga also allows me to sit more comfortably when I’m meditating—and to sit for longer periods of time.

In recent years, I have added a mantra practice with malas to enhance my meditation and yoga practice. Using a mala gives me a tactile anchor that keeps me rooted and grounded in the here and now.  Each bead becomes a fresh focal point, a new beginning, ushering in a new moment. Each inhalation, each exhalation, each repetition of the mantra welcomes now, and now, and now.

 Ultimately, my yoga and meditation practice has saved my life—it has helped me find balance and perspective, and it has prevented me from falling off the precipice of perpetual busyness and disappearing into the abyss of the living dead.

I’ve since retired from teaching full-time. I still tutor part-time, and working with students one-on-one allows me to give them my undivided attention—to be fully present.  I also teach and practice yoga, and along with running a small business, I still remain very busy, but I am no longer a slave to busyness.  I am living my life on my own terms, and I am living my life one moment at a time—one bead at a time.

Honoring Those Who Have Come before You June 1, 2016 08:00

My introduction to a meditation practice was not dramatic, by any means. My japa roots are humble ones; I fell into this practice by a combination of happenstance, intuition, and luck. I didn’t have a guru or a spiritual teacher to show me the way.  My spiritual teachers were found mainly in books and Sounds True courses on cassette tapes (later CDs): Louise Hay, Alan Watts, Marianne Williamson, Eckhart Tolle, Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Don Miguel Ruiz, Caroline Myss, and Carl Jung.  Each book, each lecture was like an individual bead on a sutra—one following the other—each one connected and interconnected—leading me to exactly where I was meant to go…and be.  

            I started to meditate when I was pregnant with my daughter, Elise. At the time, I was naïve enough to think that meditation would help me transcend the pain of childbirth. I never dreamed that it would become a lifelong habit that would help me navigate the joys and challenges of life, and that it would become an absolute necessity for the demands of parenthood.

            In the winter of 1994, I made weekly trips to a small home in Broad Ripple that had been converted into a meditation center.  I remember our shoes lined up in neat rows by the door, the faint smell of jasmine incense, sunlight streaming through partially opened blinds, and that purple maternity Barneyesque sweat suit that I wore (It was the only thing comfortable enough for me to sit and meditate in).  I was full of hope and purpose, and I was eager to welcome a new life as well as a new practice into my own life.

            I persisted, sitting every evening in front of a small votive candle on the floor of my daughter’s freshly-painted nursery.  After she was born, sitting in meditation became more sporadic, but it still happened—and life also happened.  However, I found new teachers to lead the way—poets, this time: Li-Young Lee, Jane Hirschfield, Gary Snyder, Dorianne Laux, Ted Kooser, Rita Dove, Charles Simic, Rumi, Dōgen…

            I bought my first mala before I knew what it was for—or how to use it. I knew they were sacred, like the rosaries I had seen my mother and grandmother use, and I knew that they were connected to meditation and spiritual practices, but that was all. I was drawn to the black specks on the creamy white bodhi seeds—a Moon and Stars Mala. It called to me, and I answered. For a long time, I kept it in my home office; it shared space on a table with a small candle and a statue of Kwan Yin.  I liked the feel of the seeds between my fingers—and sometimes I wore it to school.

            Eventually, all of the pieces of the puzzle came together with the help of many more teachers.  This time, real-live human beings were coming into my life to enhance my practice, and I was very grateful for their arrival.  I was able to link my meditation, yoga, and mantra practices together, integrating body, mind, and spirit.

            What started as naïve curiosity had blossomed and deepened into a sincere, heart-driven practice and a desire to share this practice with others. I love creating and designing custom malas for others, never forgetting how my own practice began, and honoring the teachers (literary and real-life) who helped me along the way.  My meditation practice started before I gave birth to my daughter, but what I didn’t realize is that, all along, this practice was helping me awaken, helping me realize my potential, and helping me serve others in a meaningful way.