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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.
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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 :).
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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.
Bossa Nova Snowfall: Everyday Rhythms of Practice January 28, 2022 15:27
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I have "Waters of March" rolling around in my head (the Portuguese version). A friend of mine recently shared a Dust to Digital video of the duet with the composer, Antonio Carlos Jobim, and Elis Regina singing it in a studio in 1974.
I remember hearing this song as a kid, but I didn't think about the lyrics that much, mainly because I don't speak Portuguese. I remember my stepdad had a collection of jazz albums in the stereo console that he kept in the living room. This song was included in an album called Bossa Nova's Greatest Hits.
"Waters of March" is a happy melody, and now that we are lucky enough to have access to Google, I was able to search for the lyrics in English. It reads like a beautiful list poem, and the rhythms flow, like water from beginning to end:
It's the rest of a stump, it's a little alone
It's a sliver of glass, it is life, it's the sun
It is night, it is death, it's a trap, it's a gun
A knot in the wood, the song of a thrush
The wood of the wind, a cliff, a fall
A scratch, a lump, it is nothing at all
It's a beam, it's a void, it's a hunch, it's a hope
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the end of the strain, it's the joy in your heart
The beat of the road, a slingshot's stone
A fish, a flash, a silvery glow
A fight, a bet, the flange of a bow
The bed of the well, the end of the line
The dismay in the face, it's a loss, it's a find
A drip, a drop, the end of the tale
A truckload of bricks in the soft morning light
The sound of a gun in the dead of the night
It's a girl, it's a rhyme, it's a cold, it's the mumps
The plan of the house, the body in bed
And the car that got stuck, it's the mud, it's the mud
A hawk, a quail, the promise of spring
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the promise of life, it's the joy in your heart
It's a thorn on your hand and a cut in your toe
A point, a grain, a bee, a bite
A blink, a buzzard, a sudden stroke of night
A snail, a riddle, a wasp or a stain
A pass in the mountains, a horse and a mule
In the distance the shelves rode three shadows of blue
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the promise of life in your heart, in your heart
The rest of a stump, a lonesome road
A sliver of glass, a life, the sun
A knife, a death, the end of the run
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the end of all strain, it's the joy in your heart
(if you're curious, listen to the recording in Portuguese here)
In essence, it's a song about appreciating the present moment, no matter what's going on around you. It's about the ordinary, mundane images of daily life, and the inevitable journey towards death, just as the rains of March mark the end of a Brazilian summer.
***
This morning, Maya and I were sitting in front of the storm door watching snow fall.
It's a light, fluffy snow that collects on branches, sticks on the bricks of the walkway in loose, fat flakes.
It had already covered the morning offerings of birdseed and coated the face of our resin Buddha statue.
Cardinals, juncos, chickadees, and wrens hop and flit about. Their wings flutter, bodies in flight--and at rest.
The deliberate staccato rhythms of a pileated woodpecker echo from a nearby oak tree.
I can hear the ticking of ductwork expanding and contracting with steady heat rising from the vent in the floor. It competes with the cold pressing against the glass door.
We moved to the living room a few minutes later. Maya is snoring on my lap, and Zora is perched on the back of the love seat. She has a close-up view of the falling snow from the French doors behind it.
Bare branches, light wind, swirling spiral patterns on sage green pillows.
The hum of the furnace, the ringing in my ears, the stiffness in my shoulder.
The soft touch of warm fur--orange and black--like those wooly caterpillars in late summer.
Silk lotus blossoms in a striped bowl, a silent grandmother clock.
Bare feet, cold floor, the rise and fall of soft bellies.
Snow flakes falling in straight lines.
Cream colored curtains, a plaid shirt, dried flecks of paint on navy sweat pants.
Abandoned spider silk between adjoining walls--temporary hypotenuse.
Empty vase, copper bell, wooden elephants--share a dusty table with framed faces and photo albums.
The effortless acceptance of Now.
***
These observations don't rhyme, and they don't follow the unconventional cords, innovative syncopation, and jazzy rhythms of Bossa nova.
However, practice doesn't have to be formal. It doesn't even have to happen on a cushion, and it can occur at any moment.
Take a few moments today to notice what's happening around you, wherever you are. Without attachment, grasping, or commentary--just be present--observe, breathe, and be.
This, too, is practice.
***
I have added several malas and quarter malas to the online shop. Check out the current collection here. Middle Moon Malas serves to inspire meaningful practice and to support your motivation to lead a kind, compassionate, and mindful life.
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!
Change Is Happening in This Space: Evidence of Growth from Daily Mantra Practice November 20, 2021 15:15
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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.
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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.
Estrangement and the Power of Metta September 30, 2021 08:51
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I wanted to write about small, everyday blessings this month--like the well-fed sparrows outside my dentist's office window, and the sprawling branches of the catalpa tree that, over time, have grown to block the view of heavy traffic on I-465.
It's not unusual for me to start writing about one topic for these blog posts, and then switching gears to something completely different. However, this month's pivot was particularly surprising...and a bit painful.
I happened to catch a segment on this week's CBS Sunday Morning about people who had been estranged from family members. The people who had been interviewed for the story desperately wanted to reconcile, or did, eventually, reconcile with their family members.
I have been estranged from my biological father for nearly thirty years. The separation occurred right after my daughter was born. I don't regret this separation, and I have no desire to reconcile or reconnect with my father. I don't know if he is alive or dead, and, honestly, I don't really care.
My mother passed away a few years ago. After my step-father died, and she moved to Michigan, our contact was sporadic--limited to just a few phone calls a year. She had battled mental illness for much of her life, and as she grew older, her conversations were often rambling, incoherent, and increasingly angry on her part.
I had experienced a great deal of psychological and verbal abuse from her growing up, so when she did eventually pass away, it was a bittersweet relief for me. I could finally release the pain and shame of a difficult relationship, and I was also relieved that she was no longer suffering.
Recently, I have become estranged from my half-sister as well. We grew up together in the same home with our mother and her father (my step-father). I was four years older than she, and we were not very close as kids.
After her father (my step-father) died, she became more distant and angry. Visits and phone calls between us became increasingly more tense and uncomfortable. Finding common ground became more challenging. Eventually, she deactivated her Facebook account, which was a key source of connection for the two of us, and when she reactivated it a short time later, she didn't include me. Honestly, I felt relieved.
She and her family were invited to attend my daughter's wedding recently. They weren't able to attend. Again, I felt relief.
It's not polite to write these things. As a Buddhist, I am supposed to constantly generate bodhicitta (lovingkindness, compassion, and altruism) toward all sentient beings until we're all liberated from suffering. I'm supposed to keep an open heart for everyone.
Obviously, I have a long way to go. I am a flawed human being, and sometimes, the best I can do is to love some people from afar.
I'm also leaving out a lot in this blog post. There are painful and deeply rooted reasons why I choose not to stay in contact with my father. I never felt safe with him, and I didn't like being alone with him when I was a kid. These feelings intensified when my own daughter was born--and the separation felt like a welcome release for me. I felt like I was protecting her.
I choose to believe that my mother did the best that she could. She had suffered severe physical, sexual, and verbal abuse in her own home growing up--she also sustained a severe head trauma in a car accident when she was a teenager.
These events set the stage for her own struggles with addiction, mental illness, and motherhood. She struggled, suffered, and, in many ways, couldn't let go of the people and circumstances that had caused her great pain.
The separation from my sister makes me sad. I still send her emails at Christmas and on her birthday--and she does the same. However, that's about the extent of our communication, and it's very brief and superficial. Our separation was like a slow-moving storm that picked up momentum gradually over the years.
We did not grow up in a healthy, loving home. Our lives and interests were vastly different. In recent years, I found myself holding my tongue and walking on eggshells around her in order to keep the peace--to avoid an argument or her sudden outbursts of condescending rage. Being around her became increasingly stressful and uncomfortable.
I survived my family of origin, and I eventually walked away from them in order to thrive in my own life with my current family. I'm close with my husband and daughter. Being in tune with my own emotions, thoughts, and actions, and choosing to distance myself from the cycle of abuse rather than actively participate in it, or witness it, is my best stab at skillful means right now.
Lashing out, or reacting out of ignorance, anger, and fear only perpetuates cycles of suffering. I'm still working on generating bodhicitta for all living beings, and I haven't given up on keeping an open heart.
I have much to learn, and I have much to purify in my own practice. Perhaps in a future life I will be able to remain peaceful and compassionate while living in the middle of an emotional storm--to deal with anger, cruelty, and abuse--to keep an open, boundless heart without needing to distance myself from the abusive person or situation. One day, I aspire to be able to do this with grace and dignity. I'm not there yet--far from it. The best I can offer for now is to continue to practice, and one practice that is extremely helpful is Metta--or Lovingkindness Meditation.
Metta:
Metta, also called lovingkindness meditation, is the simple practice of directing positive phrases and well-wishes to ourselves and others. Practicing metta can make us feel less isolated and more connected to those around us. It also fosters self-acceptance, and it can alleviate tension, depression, and anxiety.
The good news is, you don't have to be a Buddhist to practice it--it's a secular practice for everyone, and you don't have to practice it seated on a cushion. It can be just as effective in "real world," crowded environments--like waiting in line, sitting in traffic, walking around the neighborhood, etc. If you're using this practice in a crowded setting like a store or while commuting, simply focus your attention on the people immediately around you. Silently direct your chosen phrase or phrases to those who are in line, or in traffic, with you.
For a seated practice, you can specifically choose who to focus on.
So--if you like, we can practice metta together. I invite you to go ahead and find a comfortable seat (you may lie down as well, if you prefer).
1. Begin by taking a few deep breaths to clear your mind. Then, when you're ready, silently direct the following phrases to yourself:
May I be filled with kindness and compassion.
May I be safe from all dangers.
May I be happy and feel at ease.
May I be well in body and mind.
2. Next, visualize loved ones you know and care about deeply. They can be friends, family members, neighbors, or colleagues. As you think about these dear ones, silently direct the following phrases to them:
May you be filled with kindness and compassion.
May you be safe from all dangers.
May you be happy and feel at ease.
May you be well in body and mind.
3. Now shift your focus to those who are strangers to you--these are people who you don't know personally, but you do come into contact with them. You also don't have any strong positive or negative feelings about them--it's more of a neutral association. For example, a UPS driver, a waitress, a clerk at a convenient store, a flight attendant, etc. When you're ready, silently direct the following phrases to these individuals:
May you be filled with kindness and compassion.
May you be safe from all dangers.
May you be happy and feel at ease.
May you be well in body and mind.
4. Now imagine those who do tend to evoke strong negative feelings for you--those who push your buttons and who are challenging, difficult, or annoying to be around. When you're ready, silently direct the following phrases to these people:
May you be filled with kindness and compassion.
May you be safe from all dangers.
May you be happy and feel at ease.
May you be well in body and mind.
5. Finally, silently direct the following phrases toward all beings in the universe:
May you be filled with kindness and compassion.
May you be safe from all dangers.
May you be happy and feel at ease.
May you be well in body and mind.
This practice is a wonderful antidote for feeling disconnected, anxious, or agitated. It's also a practical way to cultivate kindness, compassion, and forgiveness toward ourselves and others.
I may not have written about the sparrows flitting around the catalpa tree outside my dentist's office window this month, but I hope this month's article was helpful for you in some way. Until next month-- let's keep practicing.
I have added a few new mala designs to the online shop. As each design is different, the inventory is frequently updated and changing. Nothing is permanent, after all. Be sure to visit middlemoonmalas.com to view the current online collection.
The Benefits of Motivation and Curiosity: On the Road and in a Meditation Practice July 31, 2021 16:55
(photo credit: Muhammad owsama via Unsplash)
If you prefer to listen to this month's blog post, please click here for the audio link.
These past few weeks, I have been grateful to be able to drive to Bloomington to attend Dharma teachings in-person at TMBCC (Tibetan Mongolian Buddhist Cultural Center).
The center is now open for weekly teachings, and visitors are required to wear masks (an act of compassion that protects themselves and others).
An ongoing (and major) construction project is happening on State Road 37, which is the road I usually take to B-town. Part of this highway is closed, and a detour is required in order for me to reach my destination. The orange cones, "rodeo barrels," and ever-changing traffic patterns with unexpected curves and sharp turns make this weekly commute a continual surprise. The road is forever morphing and changing.
However, dedication, curiosity, and motivation inspire me to navigate my way back and forth each Sunday. I wake up a little earlier. I leave the house a little sooner, and I keep an open, judgment-free mind. Expectations typically create unwanted limitations, and they are a sure-fire way to set myself up for disappointment and stress.
I type in the address on the GPS system in my car and follow the directions (usually--a few rebellious "route recalculations" are part of the fun). Each time I've taken this trip, my car has led me on a different route.
I'm exploring new pathways.
I'm trusting the guidance.
I'm open to discovery, and I'm curious about the journey.
This is SIGNIFICANT growth for me. I am notoriously bad at directions, and I get lost and turned around very easily. As a result, getting lost used to be quite anxiety-triggering for me...to the point that it would prevent me from exploring new places and experiences.
I'm also not usually thrilled about driving long distances, either. This commute takes me well over an hour each way. However, I have been enjoying these excursions. I'm more relaxed and patient in the car. I'm less fearful and more open. I'm less disoriented and more curious. I don't worry about the time as much as I used to, and I have enjoyed taking in the new scenery each week.
I'm not sure what's changed, but because my motivation is strong, I'm more flexible, accepting, and eager to discover new pathways.
Meditation practice is like this, too.
Meditation is a method of self-regulation. Over time, a regular practice regulates my thoughts, which can trigger a relaxation response in the body.
Scientific studies have shown that meditation can reduce inflammation, which can ward off harmful disease. Meditation can increase insulin production, which can improve blood sugar regulation in the body. Meditation can also have anti-aging effects by preserving the ends of chromosomes (called telomeres).
Consequently, training the mind through a regular meditation practice can indirectly affect the expression of genes and influence the production of hormones. In other words, meditation can affect your body on a cellular level!
It can also encourage the growth of new neural pathways in the brain. This process is also known as self-directed neuroplasticity. Neuroplasticity is the brain's ability to adapt to change. The environment, thoughts, and actions can influence the brain's ability to create these new neural pathways.
A regular meditation practice can improve the ability to focus and remain present. It can lead to reduced stress and anxiety, and it can also enhance and improve intuition and interoception (an awareness of sensations inside the body).
Meditation naturally leads to improved self-awareness and self-regulation. It can also prevent age-related brain atrophy and protect against memory loss. Meditation retrains the brain to become more fully present and to rely less on living unconsciously on "auto-pilot."
It's not easy to break away from ingrained habits--to bust out of the status quo and embrace new things.
Change is possible.
Growth is possible.
Where you choose to place your attention determines the quality of your life.
Personally, meditation has encouraged me to take more responsibility for my life. I feel more confident, and I'm more willing to explore new experiences and interests. I'm also less judgmental and fearful.
So, maybe not being able to travel to Bloomington and attend Dharma teachings in-person for several months gave me more time to meditate at home and hone my own self-directed neuroplasticity skills.
And, maybe all of these construction projects with their detours and alternate routes are pushing all of us, gently, out of our well-worn habits and encouraging us to explore and appreciate the scenery of unknown roads.
The path to awareness is both a physical and mental journey, and being open, curious, and motivated will help make this journey more meaningful and enjoyable.
Speaking of enjoying your practice--I have added several new mala designs to the online shop. Feel free to check out the full collection here.
Post-Pandemic Practice Blues: Navigating the New Normal June 30, 2021 18:30
If you prefer to listen to this month's blog post, please click here for the audio link.
I'm on summer break... I'm fully vaccinated... COVID restrictions are lifting!
I have had a couple of opportunities to meet friends who I haven't seen in ages for lunch. I attended a Summer Solstice event at a local park recently as a vendor and sold a couple of malas in person.
I've had more time to read and attend book club meetings (virtual ones--which is just fine).
On the outside, things are looking really good--almost, dare I say, normal?
However, on the inside, things are a bit shaky.
My meditation practice, especially, has been sputtering a bit.
During the pandemic, I looked forward to meditation practice. My cushion was a safe place, and the practice, a welcome refuge.
Over the course of these last few weeks, I've noticed that I've been putting off the things that have brought me comfort and solace during the pandemic, including my meditation practice. I typically sit in the evening when the house is quiet and still. Lately, I have been delaying my practice, pushing it off to later and later in the evening, until I'm too tired to practice with a clear head, and, as a result, I haven't been sitting as long, and the quality of the practices haven't been as beneficial.
Even when I do practice early enough in the evening, I feel anxious or jumpy. I can't settle in on the cushion like before, and random thoughts, memories, and worries interrupt and intrude more frequently.
Sadhana practices feel more mechanical, like I'm reciting on auto-pilot.
I'm having trouble focusing on any task for very long, really. I feel scattered and pulled in different directions.
The doors to the world are opening, and the distractions and anxieties are flying in!
Transitions are not easy, and reintegration after pandemic lockdown is no exception.
While this shift is a bit disconcerting and frustrating, I take solace in knowing that nothing is permanent. I've also taken a few simple steps to navigate and remedy this transition.
* Shorter Sitting Times
Instead of putting all of my meditation eggs in one basket and having one longer sitting session in the evening, I've found that sitting for short periods of time a few times each day is helpful.
* Embracing Variety
Sometimes the distractions and discursive thoughts are so intense that meditating in a traditional seated posture is just not going to happen. So, I've found that giving myself permission to meditate while lying down, or even while moving slowly and mindfully, helps me to maintain single-pointed focus more effectively.
The other day, my meditation practice consisted of mindfully sweeping and mopping the floors upstairs. Honestly, it was one of the best sessions I've had all week--and, as an added bonus, my floors are clean, too :).
* Comparisons and Expectations are Saboteurs
After experiencing several months of meditation sessions that were fairly steady and smooth, and then suddenly experiencing choppy waters of resistance and worry, it's easy to fall into thought spirals fraught with comparisons and expectations. Each meditation session is different, so comparing a session to one from the day or week or month before is usually counter productive. Similarly, sitting with an expectation to have a "successful" practice is just as useless. Comparisons and expectations can sabotage any practice (not just meditation).
Gently reminding myself that each practice will be different, and that sitting (lying down, or moving mindfully) without any expectations is both reassuring and helpful.
* Parts and Sections
Instead of completing a full sadhana practice with all the bells and whistles, I have found that focusing on one part or section of the practice to be very helpful. For example, reciting the Refuge Prayer or Generating Bodhicitta, and then pausing to sit and contemplate this part of the practice has been extremely helpful. It allows me to slow down, still the chattering mind, and take in (and enjoy) a specific part of the practice without feeling compelled to jump ahead.
*Words of Inspiration
Another strategy that I've found helpful (and is a practice in and of itself) is reading a short passage or page from an inspiring book or article. Then, taking time to sit and think about this passage for a few minutes.
I keep a few books on my altar space. I gravitate to books with very short chapters or even poetry collections (i.e. Natalie Goldberg's Three Simple Lines, Thich Nhat Hanh's Peace Is Every Step).
Right before I sat down to write this article, a Feldenkrais friend of mine had posted an inspiring quotation on her Facebook page.
"Busy-ness steals imagination.
Being constantly over scheduled dims creativity.
Doing the most limits your capacity to expand.
Pause."
Octavia Raheem
This quotation resonates--and I just might sit with it this afternoon.
* Be Gentle and Patient
Baby steps are essential for navigating most transitions. I am at my best when I am kind, patient, and operating from a place of non-judgment. Berating myself is not helpful, neither are getting huffy and worked up because I can't sit still. Cultivating kindness and reminding myself to be gentle and easy with myself is a practice in an of itself!
*Consistency
Finally, being consistent has been extremely helpful during this unsteady, awkward time. If I do some form of practice every day, I feel more grounded, and I feel like I've done something meaningful to benefit myself (and hopefully others as well).
I hope all of you are well, and I hope you are navigating these unpredictable times with grace, courage, and dignity.
Keep practicing :)
By the way--for those of you who might be interested in a new mala to celebrate the summer season or to enhance your own practice, check out the online shop (middlemoonmalas.com). I've added several new designs since last month.
Take Care--
T
Meditative Musings: Brood X Cicadas May 31, 2021 16:02
If you prefer to listen to this blog post, please click here for the audio link.
It's a Sunday afternoon. I'm sitting outside in the backyard listening to the Brood X cicadas sing in the trees. One of our neighbors is tooling around his yard on a lawn mower, but the cicadas are drowning him out.
There's a distinctive undercurrent of sound--like a constant "Ha" or a steady, but subtle baseline, and then a spiraling, melodic layer of sound pressing over it. I love this sound--this steady crescendo and decrescendo--and I love the creatures who create this sound; they inspire me, and they motivate me to continue to practice.
Any creature that burrows underground and stays "in retreat" for seventeen years, emerges, molts, mates, and sings all while constantly at risk of being eaten by just about every other creature (ants, birds, squirrels, raccoons, dogs, etc.) has my total respect.
Cicadas are mascots of endurance and patience, and it's particularly fitting that their emergence coincides with our own cautious emergence from the COVID-19 pandemic, at least here in the U.S.
For the last couple of weeks, I've wandered around our yard every morning and afternoon examining the trunks of trees for their empty husks--or, exuviae--evidence of successful molts.
And they are everywhere! Scattered in the grass, stuck to the undersides of leaves, they cling to the bricks of our home and line the outer edges of our garage door.
Not all of them make it. I've seen several "failed molts" of would-be cicadas trapped in their former "nymph" selves, unable to escape--or they escape, but with crumpled wings damaged in the molting process. When I see them, I whisper "Om.Ah.Hum" on their behalf.
A few days ago, I was lucky enough to witness a successful molt from start to finish. It was a cool, foggy morning, and I noticed a dark brown shell at eye level on a cherry tree in our front yard. This exoskeleton didn't have a vertical split down the center of the thorax, so I knew the shell was still occupied.
I wandered around for a few minutes looking at other trees in the yard. When I came back, the shell was pulsating, so I decided to stick around.
I stood by the tree and watched this cicada emerge from its exoskeleton--the entire process took a little over an hour.
It wriggled and pressed its way out of the confines of the exoskeleton that protected him in the earth. His body was pale, and his wings were small and delicate.
When he emerged, he looked like he was doing a back bend until his wings and all six legs were free from the shell. He moved, wriggled, and stretched all of his legs, then returned toward the tree, climbed over his shed exoskeleton, and rested until his crumpled wings slowly unfurled and dried. Then, he took his first steps as an adult cicada and began to climb up the tree.
You may be wondering, at this point, what on earth does this have to do with meditation practice? This is a valid question.
Today is Monday--Memorial Day--and I took some time to sit outside to meditate this afternoon.
The temperature was cool, and the sky was cloudy and overcast.
I closed my eyes and listened underneath the intermittent bird song, the occasional slam of a car door, the sputtering motor of a nearby riding lawn mower, and the sound of a motorcycle accelerating in the distance. Beneath these distinct "sounds of samsara" was a constant hum that seemed to be coming from nowhere and everywhere at once.
What started as the roar of applause, or the sound effect from a B-rated sci-fi flick, transformed into the hush of cause and effect, the infinite sigh of the earth, the soft, primordial thunder that held all other sounds together. It held space for sound, and it, too, was the sound of space. This ubiquitous murmur was the sound of transformation, the backdrop of interconnection, and a beautiful reminder that life is precious, that time is limited.
This is the sound of generosity; this is the sound of ethics; this is the sound of patience; this is the sound of joyful effort, this is the sound of focus, and this is the sound of wisdom.
For me, these Brood X cicadas are simple but powerful symbols that embody and sing the benefits of daily practice. All we have to do to benefit others, as well as ourselves, is to observe, to listen, and to be still.
May you all enjoy the remnants of this holiday weekend, and may you all find time for your own practice today....and every day.
Thanks for reading or listening. If you haven't checked out the Middle Moon Malas online shop in a while, be sure to visit middlemoonmalas.com. I've added a few new designs recently that you might like.
Take care, everyone!
Taking Action and Responsibility for Your Own Practice April 30, 2021 10:52
If you would prefer to listen to this month's blog post, please click HERE.
When I was a very young kid, my family moved into an apartment complex on the far east side of Indianapolis. Braeburn Village was a brand new complex in 1970, and we were one of its earliest tenants.
I was very curious and playful as a kid (as most kids are), and I would sometimes peer into the windows of the first floor apartments to see how other families lived. I was curious about what they were doing, how they spent their time, and, most importantly, what they were having for dinner.
Often, the windows revealed dark, empty kitchens, but since then, I have always been curious about how other people lived their lives. It was important for me to feel like I belonged.... and that I fit in.
I have long since abandoned peering into my neighbors' kitchen windows :), but this need to fit in, to feel connected and understood... well, that still lingers.
Even now, I can be easily influenced (and overly curious) about what others do--to the point that I question my own judgement and whether the way I choose to do things is OK. This tendency can be a blessing... and a curse.
Comparing myself to others, and then changing or adapting in order to accommodate can be unnecessary. It often hinders learning for me and can lead to great frustration and confusion. At other times, it can enhance the learning process, accentuate curiosity and play, and lead to discovery and more creative and innovative ways of doing things.
I've been studying the Tibetan language for a little more than a year. Because of COVID, my lessons have been online. I've been working with a wonderful teacher, who is originally from Lhasa, and one other student.
We've been using a textbook that is fairly advanced and not really ideal for new language learners, so from the very beginning, the weekly lessons were challenging. As we progressed more deeply into the text, the lessons became even more overwhelming and stressful for me.
I didn't think much about it at first since everything was new in the beginning. I expected some degree of confusion. Confusion, after all, is an important aspect of the learning process, and it can often be a motivator for discovery. However, as we made our way through the chapters, my confusion and frustration escalated, rather than subsided. The information in the text was daunting to me, and it lacked clear explanations and adequate exercises for practice.
Unfortunately, my need to fit in, belong, and stay caught up pushed me to continue. It would take me hours to complete the short, weekly exercises, and, worst of all, nothing was sticking. I wasn't retaining the information from week to week. This drinking-from-a-firehose technique of learning was NOT working for me, and it was crushing my curiosity, playfulness, and motivation to learn this beautiful language.
My fellow classmate, however, LOVES this book. He enjoys sifting through mounds of information and was even pushing to move even faster through the text.
My need to keep up and my tendency to accommodate others hit a wall in the middle of Chapter 5. I reached out to two friends for additional resource suggestions. One is a professor of Tibetan Studies; the other is a translator for a Tibetan lama in Canada. Both recommended additional texts that might be helpful for me.
I also reached out to my Tibetan teacher and asked if she could work with me individually. She agreed that the book we were using was too advanced (for both me and my fellow student) and agreed to work with me on another day of the week.
By taking action and responsibility for my own learning, I have a renewed sense of commitment, curiosity, and motivation. I'm honoring what works for me, and I'm looking forward to slowing down and focusing on just a couple of concepts at a time--and taking more time to practice, play, and explore with those concepts before adding additional information.
In this case, "keeping up" was NOT helping; it was actually hindering my progress. It was also sabotaging my motivation and mental health.
The new books my friends recommended have arrived this week. I'm looking forward to diving in and exploring them on my own terms and in my own way. I'm also looking forward to the one-on-one sessions with my teacher soon.
***
Sometimes, however, examining a subject from a different perspective can be inspiring--and can even ENHANCE one's practice.
Recently, I've joined an online book group. We are reading Lama Rod Owens' Love and Rage: The Path of Liberation through Anger.
We meet twice a month and discuss a few chapters at a time.
Last week, we discussed Chapter 4, which includes detailed descriptions of several personal meditation practices that Lama Rod incorporates regularly in his own practice.
I appreciated that he took the time to carefully outline and explain each step of each practice.
He explained each part of the practices by including examples, and he also followed up each with a brief outline. Lama Rod carefully explained at least a dozen specific practices in this chapter.
I found these detailed descriptions to be extremely useful, and I even had time to explore and play with a couple of them before we had our most recent book club meeting. His explanations have enhanced my own personal meditation practice.
Ironically, during our online discussion, a few members of the group found this chapter to be daunting and overwhelming: "TMI for one chapter."
They wondered if Lama Rod could have mentioned one practice at at time--maybe dedicating one chapter to each practice rather than cramming all twelve into one chapter.
This made me think of my online Tibetan class, and my classmate who loved the TMI text--but my frustration with it.
Although, compared to the Tibetan text, Chapter 4 in Lama Rod's book was nothing in terms of being too confusing or overwhelming :) !
I didn't feel compelled to try ALL of the practices, and the ones he outlined weren't linear. In other words, I didn't have to practice the first one before experimenting with the second one, etc.
I read through the chapter, picked a couple to explore, and enjoyed the practices as a result.
I may not need to take the time to explore the remaining practices. I took what I needed and moved on.
Learning has always been an important part of my life, and everyone learns in a different way. Trying to fit into someone else's learning style or educational paradigm is NOT a good thing.
Learning to honor my OWN path and to follow what fascinates and nourishes me has been a lifelong journey, too, just as honoring what fascinates and nourishes others--giving them the space to explore their own path is just as valuable and important.
At this point, I'm back on track. I'm curious, playful, and motivated about continuing to learn Tibetan in a way that resonates with me. I'm also fascinated about bringing fresh awareness into my personal meditation practice by learning more about what works for Lama Rod and the other members of my book club group.
Peering into my neighbors' kitchen windows when I was a kid has been a helpful and humorous metaphor for gauging if it's appropriate to follow along with others, abdicating my own viewpoint (and power) in the process. However, that's not always the best approach. Learning to observe, listen, and trust myself, to take responsibility and action for what fosters and nourishes my own curiosity has been an even more powerful life lesson.
This process turns the kitchen window metaphor around for me, and it involves paying closer attention to what's happening in my own "kitchen," appreciating that it, too, has value, worth, and the potential to nourish. Viewing the world through this lens (or window) allows me to acknowledge and appreciate my own perspective, and it also allows me to observe what's happening in the outer world while simultaneously maintaining a sense of connection, belonging, and understanding.
While you're here, I invite you to check out the current Middle Moon Malas online collection. Several new designs have been added to the online shop. These one-of-a-kind designs are made with love and care, and they're intended to enhance your meditation, movement, and wellness practices.
The Best Laid Plans: Celebrating Joy on the Path March 29, 2021 13:26
If you prefer to listen to this month's blog post, please click here.
Years ago, long before I practiced meditation on a daily basis, I used to worry when things went according to plan, which seems like a silly thing to do, now that I look back. However, I was convinced that something was bound to go wrong, or that an unexpected glitch would send everything crashing to the ground.
A regular meditation practice has taught me that planning is useful, but being attached to the plans is not so good. Circumstances can shift at a moment's notice, and priorities can turn on a dime. Besides, it's rare for things to go exactly as planned.
This past Sunday, my son-in-law arranged for several family members and friends to meet at a local park. It was a surprise adventure for my daughter. He was planning to formally propose, and he wanted all of us to be there to witness it and celebrate.
Technically, Elise and Christopher are already married. They had an intimate garden wedding last June at our home. However, because of COVID restrictions, they wanted to have a more formal ceremony later this year in order to celebrate with more family members and friends.
Christopher scoped out the best trail in the park, and he arranged for various couples and family clusters to spread out and "hide" on the path. Each person was given a flower to hold.
The plan was for Elise and Christopher to walk along the trail together and "happen to encounter" various friends and family along the way. They would give her their flowers, chat briefly, and Elise and Christopher would continue on the path. By the end of the trail, Christopher's parents, Jim, and I would be waiting to greet them both with a beautiful vase full of flowers. At this point, Christopher would kneel down and pop the question.
He even arranged for friends to stop by their house and pick up Kevin, their dog. Kevin would be carrying a flower, too (a squeaky toy version) and he'd be wearing a sign around his neck that read "Will U Marry Dad?"
Keep in mind, nearly 30 people were invited to participate in this event, and some friends were traveling several hours in order to attend. It's springtime in Indiana, which means we could have a torrential downpour, a tornado, or a blizzard all in the same week. So, what could possibly go wrong?
Well, fortunately, the weather turned out to be absolutely beautiful. We had had a significant rain the day before, but the trails were dry, and a 60 degree day with full sun is about as good as it gets this time of year.
Most everyone arrived at the park on time. We had plenty of time to spread out along the trail to wait for Elise and Christopher to arrive.
Other hikers paused and asked about our flowers. We let them in on our family plan.
The only hiccup, really, was a garter snake who surprised Christopher's mom while she was sitting on a fallen log, but that wasn't a big deal. No human or snake was harmed in this surprise encounter.
We were all on the path together, and we were all here for a common purpose, to support each other and celebrate this day with Elise and Christopher.
From the woods, we could see their car pull into the crowded parking lot, and we watched as they made their way to the head of the trail.
We could hear their voices mingling with those of friends and family, their laughter ringing through the branches.
At the end of the trail, friends and family gathered under an archway. Kevin, wearing his sign, sauntered behind Christopher, who knelt into soft soil and proposed.
It was a beautiful moment, and everything fell into place in order for it to happen.
Afterwards, we gathered at Christopher's parents' home for a barbeque and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon.
It's been my experience that intention has a lot to do with the success or failure of a scheduled event or plan. It's certainly not the only factor, but I tend to find that if the intentions are positive, the outcomes will be, too.
Another necessary component is having a relaxed, flexible mindset. We did not have any rigid taskmasters in our group, thank goodness. Nothing saps the good vibes out of a fun surprise more than an anal-retentive group leader or project manager who insists on a specific time table or arbitrary rules. Christopher had created a clear plan, he shared the general instructions with everyone involved, he made arrangements in advance with a florist and with friends to pick up Kevin, and then he left it up to all of us to do our part. He was relaxed and committed to making this a special day for Elise.
Finally, not worrying about "what ifs," "glitches," and "worst case scenarios" is important as well. These only muck up plans and create unnecessary anxiety for the participants, especially worrying about things that are not in your control (like the weather, for instance).
Plans are important and necessary. They offer a bit of structure and organization to our lives, and they give us things to look forward to. Celebration and joy are equally important. They add meaning to our lives and give us an opportunity to share that meaning with others. Being flexible, relaxed, and having clear, rock-solid intentions not only benefit a personal meditation practice, but they can also help us implement and enjoy our plans and goals.
This planned surprise proposal was a success for everyone involved, especially for Elise and Christopher.
Be sure to check out the Middle Moon Malas online shop for one-of-a-kind mala designs to support and nourish your own personal meditation practice. Spring is a time for renewal, and renewing your practice with a new mala is cause for celebration and joy!
Gratitude and Interdependence: Celebrating Connection February 25, 2021 19:03
If you prefer to listen to this blog post, please click here.
This February marks the sixth anniversary of Middle Moon Malas, so this month’s blog post is an offering of gratitude and an acknowledgment of the importance and benefits of interdependence.
The last six years have been a slow, steady adventure in learning, growing, and building self-esteem and confidence in the world of business, and I couldn’t have come this far without the help of a lot of people.
I am so grateful to my friend Micaela who saw potential in me even before I recognized it in myself. We met (and survived) in a yoga teacher training program. With her business experience and savvy, combined with her amazing tech skills, patience, and grace, she helped me set up my business website and business plan.
I am also grateful for Bill, my SCORE mentor (Service Corps of Retired Executives), who met with me once a month for a year to offer wisdom, resources, and practical business guidance.
I am grateful for Shopify and their tech support! I haven’t had to contact them often, but when I did, they were there for me—to help guide me and answer questions without judgment or making me feel like I was a burden or a nuisance.
I am extremely grateful for the bead suppliers that I have found on this path. They have helped me to create beautiful designs—whether they were local brick and mortar bead shops and craft stores, online Etsy sellers, big name wholesalers, or friends who donated beads.
I am grateful for the makers, manufacturers, and distributors of the supplies and tools I use in order to create mala designs and ship them to their new homes—pliers, needles, scissors, tissue paper, bubble wrap, boxes, insulated bubble mailers, and packing tape.
I am grateful for the USPS—all of the postal employees I have interacted with have been reliable, friendly, dedicated, professional, and patient. I appreciate their service immensely!
I am grateful for the woman from Estonia who reached out to me on the Contact Us page to suggest that I add an audio file to each blog. She enjoys reading my monthly posts, but reading is a struggle for her due to vision challenges. It took a little while, but I figured out a way to do that. Now, I look forward to writing—and reading-- each month’s blog posts. I’m talking to you today because of this woman. Personally, I was amazed that someone from Estonia (or anywhere else in the world, for that matter) was reading my blogs.
I am grateful for the ability to view on my admin page where visitors to the website are from: Ireland, Kenya, Australia, Portugal, Poland, Spain, France, Malaysia, Canada, Brazil, Seychelles, New Zealand, Thailand, and all the individual states in the U.S.
MMM is a teeny, tiny independent micro biz, but it’s connected to the whole world. I’m on my own, but I am certainly not alone. I definitely could not have embarked on this journey without the help and support from others.
Most importantly, I am grateful to the many friends, fellow practitioners, clients, and customers who have purchased malas, for themselves or others, or who have requested custom designs.
Some have been gifts for loved ones.
Some have been healing offerings for those battling and recovering from illness.
Some were for those who wanted babies, meaningful career paths, new homes, safe travels, and loving relationships.
Some were peace offerings.
Some were for yoga studio owners and their students.
All were made with love, dedication, and care.
If I knew ahead of time what the mala was for (and you don’t have to have a specific reason or intent, but some do), if I knew ahead of time what the specific intention was, I would whisper, speak, or sing mantras of compassion, healing, strength, etc. as I strung the beads, secured the knots, and wrapped the tassels.
More often than not, I don’t know who the malas are for, and sometimes, I have to be patient and wait for their “people” to find them. Whether I know who they are for or not, I put great care into creating each design.
My hope is that these malas inspire others to practice, whether it’s seated meditation, mindful walking, japa, yoga, alternative movement modalities, or just trying to be a good person in the world…
My hope is that these malas support and serve others’ personal practices in a positive, meaningful way.
I love what I do, and even though I may be an independent micro business owner, I couldn’t do this without the help of all of you.
This business adventure over the last six years has taught me the value and power of interdependence, and also the many blessings and benefits that heartfelt gratitude brings.
I’m very grateful to be able to offer these malas out into the world, and I am extremely grateful to all of you who have read the blogs, visited the website, liked, shared, and commented on social media posts, and purchased designs from the online shop, or requested a custom design.
It has been a wonderful six years, and I’m looking forward to creating even more heartfelt, hand-crafted mala designs for many years to come.
Thanks, everyone!
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.