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100th Offering: Winter Reflections December 31, 2024 10:30
If you prefer to listen to this month's offering, please click HERE for the audio link.
Winter is a season of rest and renewal. It is the time of vanishing from view, and it is the time when transformation occurs…in quiet darkness.
Winter is not the death of the life cycle; it is the catalyst, the crucible, the womb. Winter is an essential period of descent, of going within, and taking much-needed time for reflection.
During this time of year, western culture encourages overworking, overspending, overeating, and overconsuming. However, in the natural world, winter encourages us to embrace the darkness, to hibernate in the womb of the earth, and to embrace this time of introspection. In this way, we are like seeds planted deep in the earth. This time of reflection is the key to the promise of blooming in the spring. It is the key to realizing our potential and to continuing to grow and progress.
This is Middle Moon Malas’ 100th blog post. I am approaching my tenth business anniversary in 2025, and in preparing for this month’s offering, I decided to read all ninety-nine previous blogs in order.
Honestly, I dreaded this at first. Reading my own articles is a bit like listening to my own voice on a recording. I was convinced that I would cringe in embarrassment at every single article—and that I would find them to be meaningless, incoherent, and dumb.
While some offerings were more interesting than others, each one was carefully written and had something honest, intelligent, and authentic to communicate.
After reading these articles, I was pleasantly surprised, and it warms my heart to know that people from all over the world have taken the time to read or listen to these posts over the years.
So, after reading and reflecting on these monthly offerings, I’ve decided to make a list of some of the most important lessons and takeaways that I’ve learned over the course of this year. May they be of benefit to others as well.
- Cultivate a spiritual practice that resonates with you or a creative endeavor that nurtures and nourishes you—those ventures that make you forget about the time. Those labors of love that are meaningful and that foster play and curiosity. These activities are critical to your personal wellbeing and your growth as a human being. Make time for these precious practices and creative pursuits. They help make you who you are and who you will be. They are worth your time and effort. Enjoy them!
- One of the best antidotes to counter feeling discouraged, insignificant, or sad is to do something to uplift others. It doesn’t have to be dramatic or complicated. Simple and sincere actions are best. A smile, a compliment, a listening ear are all opportunities to celebrate others, and in celebrating others, we boost ourselves, too.
- Taking time to honor those who have come before you—an ancestor practice or honoring the natural world—is important. Spending time outdoors and connecting in some meaningful way with the past or with elders can be extremely grounding and stabilizing. Going for a walk, planting flowers, reading a biography, flipping through a family photo album, or even attending a reunion can be catalysts for connection, reconnection, and interdependence.
- Because nothing is permanent, don’t attach to anything…or anyone. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t care about anything or anybody; just be careful not to be grippy, clingy, or needy. This can be easier said than done; however, being aware of our triggers and tendencies can prevent us from getting snared in traps of our own making. Unhealthy attachments can be forms of manipulation, and they can also promote stagnation in relationships and resistance to what is.
- True friends will respect your boundaries. When you communicate clearly that something is not OK and does not feel safe for you, your friends will respect that. They won’t shame, blame, ignore, and gossip about you. When you set healthy boundaries, you will discover who your friends are…and who they aren’t. This is important information. When people show you who they are, believe them. Continue to cultivate friendships with those who value and respect you for who you are, and who encourage you to keep growing and improving.
- Exploration and travel expand our perspectives and broaden our understanding of others. They enrich us and cultivate compassion for others. They motivate us to take care of each other and our world. You don’t have to travel far to realize this—a visit to a neighboring state or country can have this effect. Let your fascination and curiosity guide you, and enjoy your journeys. Safe travels!
- Taking anything personally is a symptom of self-centered grasping. It is a way of making something that has nothing to do with us about us. Notice when this tendency arises for you and work toward letting go of this habit. Be gentle with yourself—this is not an easy one.
- Ethics! Ethics! Ethics! Choosing leaders, teachers, and friends who are kind, compassionate, and ethical is extremely important. Surrounding yourself with people who care about others and this planet will benefit you, others, and this planet. Encouraging others to be kind and compassionate by modeling kindness and compassion will have positive ripple effects as well. While writing this today, I heard of the passing of President Carter. He was 100 years old, and he was an ethical, compassionate humanitarian whose lifelong service to others benefitted many. May he rest in peace and power, and may his example motivate others to be of meaningful service as well.
- Pay attention to small, sensory details: The smell of vegetable soup simmering in a slow cooker on a kitchen counter. A plump squirrel nibbling on a bright red Honeycrisp in the yard. Luna, the neighbor’s white Labradoodle, barking in the distance. Shafts of sunlight reveal a thin layer of dust on a computer screen. Details add flavor, color, and texture to just about everything. Paying attention to them is an awareness practice—the art of noticing. What are you noticing? What captures your interest and attention? Specificity matters.
- “Fitting in is for sardines.” This is the last line of a John Roedel poem. It caught my eye, it made me laugh, and it made me wish I had heard it when I was in junior high school. It would have been extremely helpful wisdom for me at that time. Honestly, it’s just as useful now. Fitting in is overrated. Celebrate your individuality, and embrace your beautiful, quirky weirdness.
Taking the time to be present, to be quiet, and to reflect is an important daily practice, but it’s also beneficial to take a longer view and contemplate the wisdom gained over the course of a year…or a decade.
Imagine yourself as a bear hibernating in a warm, loamy den. What observations, insights, and nuggets of wisdom would you be kicking around in your restful state of torpor?
Take some time to rest, restore, and reflect as we wrap up 2024 and ease into whatever adventures wait for us in 2025.
Thank you for taking the time to read or listen to this month’s offering…and a special thanks for those who have read any of the previous ninety-nine. I certainly appreciate you.
I continue to add new mala designs to the online shop, so be sure to check out the current catalogue of the one-of-a-kind Middle Moon Malas while you’re here.
I hope 2025 treats you well, and I hope your personal practices continue to benefit you and others in the New Year.
(Photo of tiny snowman courtesy of Unsplash)
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