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.

Spiritual Maturity: A Journey from Woo-Woo to Wisdom February 17, 2022 10:45

 If you prefer to listen to this article, please click here for the link.

A few days ago, a friend of mine had posted a picture of the book Ask and It Is Given on Facebook. She had recently read it, and it resonated for her.

I don’t respond often to posts, but I felt the need to “chime in” with this one, in a compassionate way. I wasn’t mean-spirited or rude. I wasn’t judgmental or unkind. In fact, I admitted to my friend that I had read this book, too, years ago.

I had even purchased tapes (yes, tapes) of Abraham-Hicks conversations. I also listened to various Hay House Radio programs back in the day. I was totally on board and sucked into the “vortex” of woo-woo.

I had read The Secret, and I had watched the video, I’m embarrassed to admit, on more than one occasion.

During this time in my life (early 2000’s), I was attending psychic fairs, I read a lot of “self help” books (many by Hay House authors), I had angel and archetype card decks lying around the house. I was frequently shuffling decks and pulling cards for guidance or validation for something or other.

During this time, I consulted psychics, numerologists, astrologists—For an entire year, I participated in a “meditation” group that met weekly at a local rock and crystal shop.

I had immersed myself in a new age “spiritual” world, and, at the time, it resonated—or, at least, I thought so.

At the time, I was also very vulnerable. Jim’s father had passed away, we moved to a new home in a new town, we had invited Jim’s mom to live with us, my daughter was very young and just starting school, I had recently finished graduate school, and I was teaching full time. My life was very busy, stressful, and chaotic at this time. I didn’t have time or energy for deep thoughts.

Instead, I took solace in pseudoscience. It was easy to access, and I didn’t have to think too much. Most of the “guidance” I received from psychics was vague and general (which is typical). I liked the atmosphere of the rock shop with the sounds of ambient music, the tinkling of wind chimes, creaking wooden floors, and the ever present scent of incense—and all the shelves lined with new age spiritual books about spirit guides, animal totems, dream interpretation, channeled conversations from the spirit realm, near death experiences, and angels. All of this was very soothing, calming, and validating to me.

I felt safe here. I took refuge in the supernatural and the hokey. I made friends and felt connected to others who felt comforted by these things, too.

I was satisfied, satiated, and numb in this vacuous world of manifesting good vibes, generating energetic frequencies, and clutching shiny stones.

Even though I cringe writing about this now, this world was a necessary escape hatch for me at the time. I don’t regret the friends I met here or visiting this place. It was what I needed.  It helped me manage my overly busy life. Yes, what it had to offer was superficial, contrived, and rife with sugar-coated magical thinking, but I loved it.

When I read my friend’s recent post and book review of Ask and It Is Given, it made me cringe a bit in embarrassment at first, but it also made me realize how far I have come since then.

Slowly, slowly over time I began to drift away from seeking comfort in vapid guidance on glossy cards and reading books that offered  “There, there, Honey” reassurances but did little to empower me, enrich my life, or encourage me to contemplate deeply or take meaningful action.

Looking back, I was very gullible, naïve, and desperate for validation outside of myself. Reading these books taught me to look at myself, but in a very self-centered way. These sources never had anything specific or concrete to offer, and they also didn’t suggest being of meaningful service to others, which is critical for authentic spiritual growth.

These books, recordings, and tchotchkes were mind-numbing escapes from my mind-numbingly busy life. They were like a Styrofoam life raft in very dark and turbulent waters. At the very least, they kept me afloat.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Like all things, nothing is permanent. As my life changed, my interests also shifted. My life settled, and I started to crave more substance, more meaning, and more depth.

I also became aware of controversies associated with some of the Hay House authors as well as the publishing company itself, and critical thinking helped to break the spell for me. I became more mindful, picky, and discerning about the books I read. I selected authors who valued ethics, cultural diversity, inclusivity—and teachers who didn’t manipulate, lie, berate, or bamboozle their students.

I became hungry for practices that encouraged me to look at myself, but not to attach, grasp, or cling. I was drawn to practices that were simple, but also meaningful—practices that invited generosity, compassion, and kindness toward others. I was hungry for significant connections and interconnection.

Fortunately, this led me to seek out books, teachings, and teachers who would push me to be better, rather than lull me into a spiritual la-la land.

So, what am I up to now?

Currently, I’m reading books that feed my mind, that appeal to my need for spiritual connection, that inspire my personal practice, and that encourage me to be of meaningful service to others.

For example, over the last few years I have participated in three Retreats from Afar through Sravasti Abbey in Washington state, where Venerable Thubten Chodron is the abbess.

These programs include daily meditation sessions and weekly transcripts of amazing Dharma teachings that inspire me to continue to learn and practice. These Buddhist teachings are informative, specific, relevant, and Thubten Chodron always includes examples and analogies that Westerners can relate to and appreciate in her teachings.

I like practicing on my own at home, but there’s also the option to practice on Zoom or a livestream video, which is a wonderful option. This year’s retreat focuses on Medicine Buddha.

The Sravasti Abbey website includes a vast library of teachings (both in written and video format) that are free and available to the public.

In addition, Thubten Chodron has collaborated with His Holiness, the Dalai Lama, on a series of Buddhist books called The Library of Wisdom and Compassion (Simon and Schuster). Currently, six volumes have been published, and two more are slated for publication later this year. These books contain detailed, accessible Buddhist teachings, meditations, and commentaries. They are profound treasures of wisdom and meaning.

During the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic, I joined an online book club. We met once a month to discuss the book Radical Dharma: Talking Race, Love, and Liberation, which included essays by angel Kyodo Williams, Lama Rod Owens, and Jasmine Syedullah. This book was engaging, real, contemporary, and controversial, and our group had excellent, and sometimes animated, discussions about systemic racism, privilege, and injustice--and how Dharma can be a vehicle for positive, meaningful change. 

A few months later, this group gathered again (virtually) to discuss Lama Rod Owens’ Love and Rage: The Path of Liberation through Anger. Again, this book was compelling, personal, and timely. Our group had meaningful discussions—and I really appreciated how Lama Rod shared so many specific details about his own personal practice in this book.

Currently, our little virtual book club is now reading and discussing Everyday Zen by Charlotte Joko Beck, and we are enjoying the discussions that this wonderful treasure has inspired as well.

I also like Roshi Joan Halifax (Abbot, Head Teacher, and Founder of Upaya Zen Center in Santa Fe, New Mexico). Her book, Standing at the Edge: Finding Freedom Where Fear and Courage Meet is excellent as well.

Believe it or not, I don’t just read Buddhist texts. I’m a big fan of Brené Brown (Rising Strong, Braving the Wilderness, Daring Greatly), Stephen Nachmanovitch (The Art of Is: Improvising as a Way of Life), and Martha Beck (Finding Your Own North Star, Steering By Starlight, and The Way of Integrity: Finding the Path to Your True Self), to name just a few.  

I also have a few favorite podcasts that are engaging as well. They are rich with specific, relevant information, and they foster critical thinking. My favorites are The Mind and Life Podcast, IndoctriNation with Rachel Bernstein, and Conspirituality Podcast.

All of these teachers are helping me keep it together, that’s for sure :).

*****************************************************************************************

Twenty years ago, I didn’t really have a personal practice to speak of, but I was certainly searching for one. The angel cards and Hay House hokum were stepping stones and gateways to a much more compelling and authentic way of thinking.

My gullibility, naiveté, and exhaustion may have led me into a vortex of “woo woo” for a time, but, ultimately, this new age pseudoscience sparked my curiosity and my deep need for meaning and connection. They led me to discover authentic, ethical, inclusive, and diverse teachers and powerful sources of wisdom.

I don’t know where my practice will lead me twenty years from now, but I am continuing to learn, grow, and enjoy this journey—not only for myself, but for the benefit of others as well.

My hope is that my curiosity continues to lead me even farther, that my practice continues to deepen, my heart and mind continue to open, and my capacity for wisdom and compassion continues to grow.

I wish the same for all of you as well. Honor your journey—all the parts—even the bumps and unexpected detours. They led you to where you are now, and they’ve given you the courage, critical thinking, and patience to continue on your path, wherever it may lead.

In many ways, we are what we read, but we can always choose to close the books that no longer benefit us and find new ones that do.

Listening to the Wisdom of the Body: Welcoming the New Year December 31, 2021 15:38

photo credit: Valery Rabchenyuk 

(If you prefer to listen to this blog post, please click here for the audio link)

Over the past two months, I have been suffering from very uncomfortable shoulder pain. I didn't sustain an injury. I didn't twist, turn, or lift anything in such a way that might have caused discomfort in my left shoulder. This pain has been a bit of a mystery for several weeks.

I have been carrying a relatively heavy shoulder bag from my car to my office at school on this arm, so I switched to a bag on wheels so that I could relieve any unnecessary tension in this arm. However, after several weeks, I didn't notice any significant change at all.

One of the mysteries of this discomfort is it has been difficult to pinpoint. I couldn't tell if it was in the bones, muscles, tendons and ligaments, or fascia. Also, the pain moved around. Sometimes, I'd feel discomfort in my shoulder blade--and sometimes I would feel an ache in my bicep--or tenderness near the left collar bone--sometimes it was a dull ache--other times, it was a pinching sensation. It was always morphing and shifting, and it kept me from sleeping.

After a few weeks, I started to worry about it...a lot.

I'm left handed, and having strength in this dominant arm is also essential for creating malas. Consequently, the worry wheels started to turn and spiral. Is it frozen shoulder syndrome, bursitis, arthritis, tendonitis, a repetitive stress injury, a rotator cuff tear?

The onset of this pain was sudden. It occurred right after my husband fell and broke his right ankle. Because of this, I wondered if the source was emotional. I realized that because of the nature of his injury and recovery, I was going to have to really step things up and take on more than I was already doing. I could metaphorically feel the weight of the world on my shoulder. Of course, I kept this to myself--I didn't want Jim to feel bad or worry while he was recuperating.

I was also experiencing additional emotional pressures at work, and, the ongoing pandemic wasn't helping things, either.

Jim's ankle healed, thankfully, but my shoulder didn't. I see an holistic chiropractor every five weeks. During my last appointment, I asked her to focus just on my left arm. Her adjustments helped relieve the pressure and tightness a lot! She agreed that the source, or at least part of the source, seemed to be emotional in nature. She didn't detect any obvious physical problems or red flags. I found that I was able to sleep more comfortably after this session.

Just before this session, I spent some time at home on my cushion and just allowed myself to be still and receive guidance about what I needed to heal.

After a few moments of stillness, the message I received was, "I need to feel safe, and I need to feel supported."

I listened to this message, and I have been honoring it ever since--by taking more time to take breaks and rest, taking time to adjust physical habits and behaviors that may contribute to this discomfort, taking more time to move mindfully (Feldenkrais lessons have been extremely helpful), taking more time to reflect, process, and let go of old, emotional wounds and moral injuries.

Every time my shoulder pops and cracks, it releases tension and makes space for healing.

As of today, it's not quite 100%; however, it feels significantly better than it did. The pain and discomfort have reduced, and my mobility in this arm is improving steadily.

The body knows things....and it carries a wisdom that the mind doesn't always recognize.

The body is also an emotional barometer of sorts. My left shoulder was letting me know that something was out of whack and needed healing. Once I began to acknowledge those things, to make space for them, and then let them go, the pain eased.

During this time, my meditation and movement practices were (and continue to be) especially important to facilitating continued healing. Taking the time to sit, to listen, to receive, and to move mindfully for a few minutes each day has been essential to finding relief and moving forward. In other words, pain can be a powerful teacher.

Ready or not, as we navigate our way toward 2022, I have several hopes and motivations for this upcoming year.

May we all continue to learn, grow, and thrive during this New Year.

May we all receive relevant guidance and support whenever it is needed.

May we all have the wisdom to respond appropriately once it is given.

May we all release what no longer serves us with grace and humility.

May we all feel safe, supported, and happy.

May we all be a source of safety, support, and happiness for others.

May we all continue to practice daily.

May our daily practice be of benefit to ourselves.

May we be of meaningful benefit to others.

Finally, Heartfelt blessings to all of you! May you find joy, good health, and prosperity in 2022! 

Pandemic Haiku: Finding Hope and Healing in Seventeen Syllables May 1, 2020 14:09

(If you prefer to listen to this blog post, click here)

 We're all coping with this strange new normal as best as we can. I've certainly done a fair amount of yard work (for me, that means picking up fallen limbs and branches and throwing them onto the burn pile), stress cleaning, organizing, and experimenting with new recipes as a way of managing my own concerns and worries.

However, I've also found another effective coping mechanism for dealing with the uncertainties of lockdown lifestyle: writing daily haiku.

5...7...5: Three lines, seventeen syllables! It's the perfect form for staying present and honing in on a specific event or moment.

Since the middle of March, I've spent a few minutes every evening focusing on a specific image, memory, or happening from the day and attempted to capture the essence of that moment.

It started as a lark, really--a way to lighten the mood, and decompress from the onslaught of depressing news coverage, but after 40+ days of documenting my experiences in bite-sized poetry, I've discovered a few surprises. 

  Surprise #1 These poems have become important reminders that spiritual practices are not limited to the cushion. Actually, they are extensions of meditation, contemplation, and study. In a way, they are nuggets of attention, intention, and practical wisdom.

Full Pink Moon (4.7.2020)

Blushing in the dark,

she shimmers, while peeper frogs

cheer from deep ravines.

                  Imagine Leaving an Imprint (4.16.2020)

                  in warm sand, uncooked

                  pastry dough. Skull. Ribs. Pelvis.

                  Moving metaphors.

Vajrasattva Recitations at the Laundromat (4.30.2020)

Linens tumble dry.

Quarters, green numbers mark time.

Fluff. Fold. Purify.



Surprise #2  Much like an archaeologist digging for ancient artifacts in the sand, these poems are clues to what matters...what really matters right now (family, humor, nourishment, safety, nature).

Vegetable Soup (4.3.2020)

 Slow-cooked leeks, carrots,

 potatoes fill the house with

 the scent of normal.

                 Sock Monkey Bandana (4.10.2020)

                  Wore it as a mask

                  on a Target run. You thought

                  it was underwear.

Terrier Vs. Dandelions (4.27.2020)

 She runs through tall grass

 snatching heads of suns and moons

 between sharp, fierce teeth.

Surprise #3 Finally, these poems are evidence of connection and interconnection. They are reminders of the importance of compassion for others, gratitude, and thoughtful reflection.

Bright Spot (3.18.2020)

She waited in line

at Fresh Thyme, cradling yellow

tulips like a child.

                   Online Zoom Class (3.19.2020)

                   Somatic dancers

        rise, flow, soar, sway, transcend space

                    from small square boxes.

Miumiu and Paulo: “Fly Me to the Moon” (3.26.2020)

Two guitars, one voice.

China and Nashville share a

masterclass in grace.

               Idiopathic (4.14.2020)

               Storms and wind brought them:

                body twitching, head thumping

                hard against wood floor.

The Early Bird Gets the Clorox Wipes (4.17.2020)

Noon brings empty shelves:

vinegar, lemons, vodka—

Sleeping in has perks.

 To date, I have written 40+ pandemic haiku. I don't know how long this sadhana practice will continue, but as with every meaningful practice, motivation and intention are much more important than rushing to completion. Taking a break from frenetic busyness has many blessings and benefits. This haiku project, for me, has helped to recognize and appreciate them.

To view the mala collection, click here to access the Middle Moon Malas online shop.

Business Advice from a Luna Moth June 9, 2015 19:51

A couple of weeks ago, a luna moth perched on my front storm door and camped out all day until late in the evening.  It politely posed for a few pictures and stayed steadfast even as the door opened and closed several times during the day. I can't help but wonder if it is a messenger of some kind--or a subtle metaphor at the very least.

Luna moths undergo a complete metamorphosis in their life cycle--from the egg phase--to the larva--to the powerful transformation in the chrysalis--and then literally taking flight as an adult moth.

Middle Moon Malas was merely an idea (or egg) last fall.  I spent many months researching and asking questions of other experts and business owners--taking in information like a hungry hungry caterpillar.  

In late winter I had a friend, a fellow yogi and mala enthusiast, who, along with her team of techies and creatives, helped me build a website.  My cocoon was made of a complex silky web of code, photos on smoky black glass, XL spreadsheets, and detailed descriptions of various malas. I remember feeling confused and overwhelmed as all of this information swam around me in a blur, but a transformation was taking place, nonetheless.

It's taken many months to manifest, but Middle Moon Malas is a full-fledged online business.  I believe this luna moth was giving me guidance--a little metaphorical business advice from the insect world:

*Despite your feelings of vulnerability and doubt in starting something new, trust your intuition and inner wisdom

*Claim your personal power and happiness by navigating through the darkness and the shadows

*Seek light and illumination through patience and determination

*Honor your vision and maintain an optimistic outlook in order to attract those who will want and value what you have to offer

Sometimes sound business advice comes in the form of a well-written article in The Wall Street Journal, and sometimes, it literally lands on your front door waiting for you to quietly unravel its secrets while it rests by the light of day.