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Less Is More: The Beauty and Benefits of Quarter Malas July 30, 2022 10:36

To listen to this month's blog article, please click HERE for the audio link.
Lately, I have been inspired to create a series of quarter malas. Quarter malas include twenty-seven beads (1/4 of 108) plus a guru and tassel.
Practicing with a quarter mala, as opposed to a full mala, has several benefits, and in this month's article, I'd like to share what some of those benefits are.
*Portable
One benefit of practicing with a quarter mala is it's portable and easy to use while traveling. They are convenient and store easily in the console of a car, a carry on bag, or a desk drawer at school or office workplaces.
Construction delays and traffic jams are perfect opportunities for mantra practice in the car in order to keep calm and carry on. I also keep one at school in my desk drawer. Sometimes, between student tutoring sessions, I'll take it with me as I walk around the track--moving mindfully and chanting mantra is a wonderful way to take care of myself during the work day and squeeze in a little practice time.
The quarter malas I design are intended for practice. Sometimes, people will ask if I can make "stretchy bracelets." I don't--for a couple of reasons. One, I'm not able to create a knotted quarter mala with stretchy cord--and the knots are an important part of the design. They represent the obstacles and challenges we face in life. The beads represent the beautiful aspects and blessings--and a balanced, meaningful life requires both.
Two, stretchy bracelets break fairly easily, and it's too easy to slip one on and go about your day without thinking about practicing. Having a knotted quarter mala that you keep in a place where you'll see it or can find it easily will remind you to practice. They serve a special purpose, beyond that of a pretty bracelet. Consequently, they aren't designed to be worn throughout the day. So, for those of you who were wondering, that's why I don't make stretchy bracelets.
*Reciting Longer Mantras
Saving time and cultivating a consistent daily practice are two additional benefits of quarter malas. This is especially true when reciting longer mantras. Some sadhana practices, for example, include lengthy mantras, and reciting a 100-syllable mantra 27 times vs.108 times can be more practical and efficient.
Not everyone has time to (or wants to) chant mantras all day long. Family obligations and work-related responsibilities are important priorities. Carving out a few minutes each day for practice can be challenging at times, and working with a quarter mala can help establish a necessary balance among work life, family time, and self care.
This "less is more" approach (chanting 27 recitations as opposed to 108) makes it easier to cultivate and maintain a daily practice. It's easier to stay present and focused with each recitation, especially with longer mantras. On really busy days, taking time to practice with a quarter mala makes me feel like I've accomplished something important and meaningful--that I've done something to help myself, and others.

I recited the Long Gayatri mantra daily for several years. I actually used a half mala for this practice, but looking back, a quarter mala would have really come in handy. I've also used quarter malas for Vajrasattva and Medicine Buddha sadhanas. I created a specific quarter mala for the Vajrasattva practice, and another one for Medicine Buddha. Know that it's OK to use the same mala for different mantras, but I like to use one, specific mala for a each corresponding mantra practice.
*Altar Spaces
Another benefit of quarter malas is that they are perfect for safe keeping on home altar spaces. They don't take up much room on a small altar, and they are beautiful reminders to practice.

*Gifts and Offerings
Quarter malas also make meaningful, thoughtful gifts for fellow meditators, practitioners, yoga friends, and teachers.
I've been very fortunate to have had ethical, kind-hearted, and knowledgeable Dharma teachers, and I have given many of them quarter malas as gifts of appreciation.
I've also given them as gifts to loyal customers over the years for their continued support.
Quarter malas also make beautiful offerings for special events and pujas at Dharma centers and temples. Generosity is a practice in and of itself, and offering quarter malas to others with an open heart is a beautiful way to give.
*Affordable
Finally, quarter malas are perfect for practitioners on a budget. Most of the quarter malas I create are between $40--$50. I take time and care to create beautiful hand-knotted designs with high-quality beads in the hopes that they will inspire practice (this is just as true for quarter malas as it is for the full malas).
Whether you are a beginning practitioner who is just starting on the path of a daily mantra practice, or a seasoned practitioner who is looking for more opportunities to practice throughout the day, quarter malas are beautiful, convenient, affordable, and meaningful tools to assist you on your personal journey.
Although I try to keep a few quarter malas in the ever-changing collection on the MMM website, they tend to go quickly. Please know that I can also create custom designs. For example, if you would like a quarter mala, but there aren't any available on the online shop, please reach out through the Contact Us page. I would be happy to create a quarter mala design that's just right for you.
Feel free to visit the home page to view the current collection of mala designs. Until next month, keep practicing!
How to Use a Mala: Step by Step Instructions for Daily Mantra Practice June 27, 2022 18:06

If you would prefer to listen to this month's blog article, please click HERE for the audio link.
I was recently at a Summer Solstice event in downtown Indianapolis, Monumental Yoga. I've been a vendor at this annual event for several years now, and in chatting with folks who stopped by our booth, I took the time to explain how to use a mala.
I'm always surprised at the number of yoga peeps who have malas--and wear them regularly--but who don't know how to use them. To me, it's like wearing an immersion blender around your neck--you have this amazing tool designed to transform and change aspects of your life--but you don't use it as it's intended.
Over the years, I would occasionally post short videos on Facebook or Instagram demonstrating how to use a mala, but I think it would be helpful to devote a blog post to this process as well.
My hope is that those who have purchased Middle Moon Malas over the years, and who will purchase them, will actually use them as they were intended.
The steps are simple and very straightforward, but a little review information might be relevant here.
A full mala includes 108 beads plus a guru bead and a tassel.
There are 108 reasons why the number 108 is significant--however, my favorite reason is that the number 108 is known as a "harshad" number. Harshad means "bringer of joy" or "happiness" in Sanskrit. A harshad number is a number that is divisible by the sum of its digits. For example, 1+0+8 = 9. 108 divided by 9 = 12. Consequently, the number is like a circuit--it comes around full circle--just like a mala.

I like to create knotted malas. The knots showcase more of the beads, and they also protect the beads from cracking and breaking due to friction. The knots represent the obstacles in life, and the beads represent the beautiful aspects of life--and we need a balance of both in order to have a full, meaningful life.

The guru bead (teacher in Sanskrit) or meru bead (mountain in Sanskrit) is the 109th bead and the focal bead in a mala design. It represents the master teacher, and deserves respect. The tassel represents one's connection to Source, and to each other. It is an important symbol of interconnection.

The Steps:
1. Hold your mala in your right hand. When making your way around the mala, be sure to use your right thumb and middle finger, or your right thumb and ring finger. Avoid using the index finger as it is connected to judgement and ego (we tend to point with this finger), and we want to keep the ego out of our practice.

2. Begin with the bead that is closest to the guru bead and to the right of the guru bead. As you hold onto this bead with your right thumb and middle or ring finger, think, say, whisper, sing, or chant the mantra of your choice.
I am a big, big fan of agency--so, choose a mantra that works best for you. It can be a classic Sanskrit mantra, such as Om Shanti Om. It can be the very famous Tibetan mantra, Om Mani Padme Hum. It can also be an affirmation, phrase, single word, or prayer. It's YOUR practice. Choose a mantra that is meaningful for you.
3. Make your way around the mala, one bead at a time, infusing each bead with the energy of the mantra that you have selected. Remember, each bead receives the full mantra--not individual syllables or part of the mantra. Take your time, be present, and enjoy the journey.

Note: If you select a really short mantra, and you decide once you've made your way around the circuit, you want to go around again, that's fine. Just be sure not to cross over the teacher bead or guru bead. Remember, the guru bead deserves respect, and you don't want to cross your teacher. Instead, go back the way you came, which requires a simple turn of the hand.
You decide how many circuits to complete. If you're working with a longer mantra, one trip around may be enough. But, it's your practice. You can make your way around the mala as many times as you like. Just be sure not to cross over the teacher bead.
Finally, if you're new to this practice, I highly recommend that you explore and stick with one mantra for at least 40 days. Take time to practice every day, for forty days, with one mantra. Maybe keep a little notebook handy to write down your thoughts and observations after each session, or at the end of each day--just a few quick notes. Then, at the end of the 40 days, take a few minutes to reflect over your observations and note the changes that occurred.

Personally, when I first started my daily mantra practice, I worked with a different mantra every 40 days for a year and a half. Keeping a small notebook for these 40-day cycles was extremely helpful for me. Then, when I found a mantra that I wanted to work with for a longer period of time (for example, I worked with the long Gayatri mantra every day for four years), this initial practice with shorter mantras for short periods of time proved to be extremely helpful. It also motivated me to keep working with the longer mantra over a longer period of time.
I hope this blog post is useful for those of you who may be beginning a daily practice, but also for those who are experienced practitioners.
If you're wondering about what mantras to use, these sources were extremely helpful for me:
Ashley-Farrand, Thomas. Healing Mantras: Using Sound Affirmations for Personal Power, Creativity, and Healing. New York: Ballantine Wellspring, 1999. Print.
Kaivalya, Alana. Sacred Sound: Discovering the Myth and Meaning of Mantra and Kirtan. Novato: New World Library, 2014. Print.
I hope you continue to learn and grow from your own personal daily mantra practice. Please consider purchasing a Middle Moon Malas design to enhance your practice. I create one-of-a-kind mala designs, so the collection is always changing, evolving, and expanding. Click HERE to view the current collection.
Meditation Is Great and All...But Meaningful Action Is Required for Meaningful Change May 31, 2022 14:46

If you prefer to listen to this month's blog article, please click HERE for the audio link.
The news has been especially dismal lately. The war in Ukraine is still raging, as are the wild fires in New Mexico. Between the shortage of baby formula due to a recall and supply chain backlog, a hate-filled gunman who murdered ten people in a Buffalo, NY grocery store, and another gunman who murdered nineteen fourth graders and two teachers in a horrific school shooting in Uvalde, TX, it has been one hell of a week!
There's certainly plenty to be sad and angry about--and plenty of my friends are fired up and venting their frustrations on social media.
Some are sharing celebrity tweets and memes. Others are link-dumping news articles. A few, who proudly announce that they don't watch the news, prefer to post vague, judgey commentary about how awful the world is...and how much better off they are by not paying attention to it.
Don't get me wrong--taking in too much negative news stories--or watching the same distressing stories on repeat can be extremely dysregulating and unhealthy. It's too easy to slip into despair and hopelessness while marinating in bad news.
On the other hand, refusing to watch any credible news at all is willful ignorance, which is just as problematic. Ignoring significant world events won't make them go away, and it won't make anyone more spiritual or superior, either. Unfortunately, it can indicate righteous selfishness and privilege on parade.
There has to be a better way... for all of us!!
Last month, I wrote about the benefits of sitting with unpleasant emotions, and I still believe that this is a good first step. However, meditation alone isn't enough to solve big problems like war, systemic racism, poverty, and gun violence.
Big problems like these can be extremely overwhelming and daunting; they can give rise to feelings of hopelessness, despair, and apathy.
Big problems can't be solved quickly, either, and they can't be solved by a single person or even a single group of people. Often, they require time and the persistent, patient focus and effort of many. The good news is, we can all contribute to meaningful progress and positive change.
Small steps matter. Small gestures matter. Every thought and action has consequences and creates a ripple effect. Even small acts of compassion can have a significant impact on others. By doing what we can, when we can, wherever we are, we pave the way for meaningful progress.
For example, I have a friend in Minnesota who spent several hours the other day planting beautiful flowers in her garden. She spent her morning planting lilies, marigolds, and roses. She can't stop the destruction in Ukraine, or the wild fires in New Mexico, but she is tending to what she can, where she is. By doing so, she is fostering beauty and joy in her own back yard, and this doesn't just benefit her and her family; it uplifts her entire neighborhood.
One of the students I have been tutoring this semester volunteers regularly at a local food bank. He can't solve the supply chain backlog or prevent product recalls, but he can stock shelves with donated food and dedicate his time and effort to help local families put food on their tables.
My friend in Ohio can't solve systemic racism on her own, but she recently posted an honest acknowledgment of her own white privilege--how she has benefited from racism, is deeply ashamed of this, but now that she's aware of it, she is committed to using her privilege to bring about positive change in society. She posts book reviews and recommendations of books written by black authors and books that address the issue of racial injustice. She's educating herself and sharing what she's learning with others to foster awareness and promote progress.
I may not be able to solve the gun violence crisis in America--and won't be able to prevent the next horrific school shooting, but I did contact the senators in my state (Indiana) and communicated to them how important common sense gun laws, red flag laws, and stringent background checks are (along with banning assault rifles). After I sent the emails, I felt a little relief afterwards--I did SOMETHING. I didn't give up, and I didn't turn away. I'm also looking into supporting local advocacy groups such as Moms Demand Action.
Recently, I participated in an online Metta vigil led by Sharon Salzberg from the Insight Meditation Society.
She explained that hopelessness is extremely dangerous--and that practicing Metta is meaningful action and a powerful adventure in attention.
Over 900 participants joined her in this online practice. It was an excellent session, and a beautiful meditation.
(I've written about the practice of Metta recently. If you haven't already read or listened to the September blog article: Estrangement and the Power of Metta, it describes this practice in greater detail and includes a short practice as well.)
We don't have to don a superhero's cape to make a difference in this world. Start where you are, and do what you can with what you know. Acts of kindness and generosity don't have to be dramatic, remarkable, or far-reaching to have an impact.
The more we can be of help and be of service to others, the positive ripples of change will continue to expand and benefit more and more beings. Meaningful change begins with simple, heartfelt action as well as having the courage to face and be present with what is. After all, during these challenging times, we cannot afford to give up or to turn away.
Thanks for reading or listening this month. If you haven't visited the Middle Moon Malas online shop in a while, I have added several new designs to the website.
May you be happy; may you be healthy; may you be safe; may you live with ease.
(Photo credit: Ross Findon courtesy of Unsplash)
Sitting with Annoyance: The Process of Transformation April 28, 2022 10:09

(Image: wind on water with reflections of prayer flags, the lotus pond at TMBCC in Bloomington)
If you prefer to listen to this article, please click HERE for the audio link.
Recently, I traveled to Bloomington to listen to a Dharma talk. It was a beautiful spring day, and the teaching was both compelling and profound. Even though the content was philosophical in nature and a bit intellectually challenging, I was able to understand the gist of it. The talk was both meaningful and wonderful, as usual.
Typically, at the end of each Dharma talk, Geshe Kunga asks for questions and follow-up comments. One student followed up with a brief comment, which was relevant and useful.
However, another student, who has been absent from these weekly teachings for over two years, and who hasn't been following them online, interrupted Geshe Kunga's response to the first student's comment in order to make her random, disorganized, rambling comment--or question--or challenge to the first student's comment (I couldn't tell which). Her interruption went on for several minutes, and I could feel the irritation and frustration rising in my body.
Kudos to Geshe Kunga--he took the time to listen patiently and respond politely to this student's word vomit; however, I was quietly fuming.
The contrast between a clear commentary about an incredibly complex philosophical subject (by the way, we are reading and discussing the tail end of Mind Training Like the Rays of the Sun by Nam-Kha Pel) and a rambling refutation laced with unrelated metaphors and, what seemed to me to be a self-indulgent cry for attention, was too much for me.
This student (who I will refer to as A.D.S.--annoying Dharma student), from my vantage point, seemed to be needy, grippy, clingy, and desperate to make up for lost time and missed classes.
I'm not gonna lie--this individual pushes my buttons. Not only is she loud and aggressive, she's quick to anger, and she's prone to bullying. She tends to twist and distort the words of others to serve herself, and she's pushy, domineering, and very, very annoying to me.
Consequently, her long-winded, convoluted, needy-baby-greedy-baby rant pushed my patience to the limit.
After the dedication and closing prayers, several students and I helped clean up the temple (while A.D.S. continued to elaborate and justify her comments with the first student--again--loudly enough for the entire temple to hear).
I didn't stay to chat with others, like usual--instead, I left abruptly (I'm not even going to go on about how she didn't bother to help put away cushions and chairs after class, which is a pet peeve of mine, especially for experienced students who attend teachings regularly and who know where these things go--don't even get me started--that's another blog for another time :).
Instead of focusing on the profound and meaningful teaching on my drive home, my amygdala had been hijacked, and I was laser-focused on my frustration with A.D.S.
By the time I arrived home, I decided to embark upon an experiment. I was motivated to sit with this annoying situation in meditation sessions for the rest of the week. It was the perfect opportunity to apply the teachings, and I was curious about what the end result would be.
I committed to sit for at least thirty minutes each day to think about this triggering situation and my reactions to A.D.S, to observe the thoughts and feelings that would unfold over the course of the week, and to take a little time to write about and reflect on any observations. Here are the results of this experiment:
+++++++
Monday: Empathy
* I know what it's like to feel out of place, but also desperately wanting to belong or to be accepted. I know what it's like to say ANYTHING, even if it doesn't make sense--or it is too raw, harsh, insensitive, or unsophisticated. I know what it's like to say ANYTHING in the hopes of fitting in--even if it risks pushing everyone away.
* I know what it's like to be in a place that makes me feel safe--but that I don't feel worthy enough to be there. So, to compensate, I come to that space radiating insecurity, awkwardness, and uncertainty, which is often off-putting.
* I know what it's like to feel overwhelmed, anxious, and uncertain when coming back to a place that was important to me--a place that I had left for a time, but then returned. I know how it feels to have missed out on important conversations and events--to have missed out on the natural evolutions and changes that participants experienced--to feel left out of the loop and disconnected. I know how it feels to doubt how I will be received when returning to these places.
* I know what it's like to act like a cringeworthy fool--not to be foolish or funny--but to seek attention in an obnoxious, juvenile way--because it was the only way I knew how to express my need for attention.
* I know what it's like to feel nervous, and, as a result, overshare or spew incoherent, repetitive nonsense. What's worse--I know what it's like to be aware that I'm doing this, but can't seem to stop the flow of the word vomit.
Reflecting on times when I behaved in the same ways that I perceived A.D.S. to have behaved helped soften the frustration and anger. Empathy was paving the way for compassion.
Tuesday: The Willingness to Listen
Knowing when to speak and when to listen are powerful forms of discernment.
Hold space for the brash, loud voice. Let it quiver and cackle and crack until it winds down to a hoarse whisper--and finally, to a rumbling, sputtering, awkward silence.
Are you moving away from self-grasping, or are you hurtling toward it?
Listen to the ache of wanting to belong--the desire to take without the wish to give back.
Hold space for the broken, the desperate, the fundamentally confused.
Even when you're tired, filled with heavy thoughts and future obligations...
Hold space and listen.
Drift toward silent compassion--the willingness to embrace and accept undisciplined ramblings for what they are...without expectation, without the hope of resolution, without judgement and cruel critique.
Just listen... and hold space. This, too, is meaningful service.
Wednesday: Physical Symptoms
As this week-long analytical experiment progressed, I started to notice some interesting physical symptoms occurring in my body.
* During the day of the teaching and the subsequent "annoyance," my left eye would not stop watering. It came and went for a few days afterwards. Warm compresses and eye drops brought some relief, but it would flare up from time to time--like during this evening's session.
* Stuffiness--and a persistent ringing in both ears.
* Left arm pain--weakness and sharp, intermittent pain shooting from the left bicep all the way down to the wrist and hand. I have been dealing with a "frozen shoulder" for several months, and I have noticed that stress exacerbates the pain and discomfort.
* Two painful blisters had erupted on the skin above my left collar bone. These were most likely caused by kinesiology tape that my PT placed on my shoulder a few days days prior. I had removed the tape earlier, but the blisters began to sting and itch during the meditation session.
* I experienced a sharp, stabbing sensation on the my right shoulder blade--similar to a burning sensation just underneath the skin. This was a new sensation--there's nothing wrong with my right shoulder.
All of these physical symptoms occurred during the meditation session. Some of the symptoms were connected to sensory organs (the left eye, the ears). This could represent a resistance to looking at and listening to what was coming up in the session, or the initial annoyance. The left side of the body represents the feminine aspect--it also symbolizes the ability to receive. Blisters... unexpressed anger. Shoulder and arm discomfort... carrying the weight of a burden. Sensitive nerves...agitation and frustration getting under the skin.
My body was communicating to me clearly, and by taking the time to sit with this physical discomfort, to acknowledge these sensations without judgment, concern, or panic, I was able to receive the wisdom and to let go of the physical and metaphorical anger, frustration, and distress until these pesky symptoms eventually subsided. And they did--after just a few minutes.
Thursday: Evidence of Transformation
Over the course of the past two years, I have deepened my Buddhist practice. I attended online teachings during the lockdown, and when the temple eventually reopened, I made the hour-long commute every Sunday.
My practice has been a life raft for me during the pandemic, and continues to be an important part of my life. The temple feels like home now. When I first started to attend the teachings, I felt like a visitor--a welcome one--but a visitor, nonetheless.
Now, I feel a sense of meaningful connection--a sense of belonging. I don't have to try too hard or go out of my way to feel a sense of affinity. I no longer feel anxious or afraid that I would say something dumb or do something that would inadvertently offend someone.
I am more calm and at ease when I am in this place, and I want others to feel this way when they come here, too.
The essence of Dharma practice is to transform the mind. To transform it from a state of ignorance, anger, and attachment to a state that is calm and cares about others.
This situation has turned out to be a karmic quiz for me--to assess how far I've come in my own practice--and where I want to go.
Friday: Reflect and Rejoice
After several days of sitting and allowing thoughts and feelings to rise, fall, and drift, I have come to a few interesting conclusions:
* Even though, in the grand scheme of things, this annoyance was extremely minor, it's amazing how small, unexpected things can trigger strong reactions.
* My reaction to this situation has absolutely nothing to do with A.D.S. However, it has everything to do with me and my own state of mind. The good news is, my state of mind is fluid and capable of positive change and transformation.
* Sitting with an annoyance like this gives me opportunities to practice patience and to generate genuine compassion for myself and others.
* This week-long process helped me clearly realize how intricately connected the physical body is to emotions. My mind and my body were processing this situation, and, by the end of the week, both were calmer and steadier as a result of this experiment.
* Having the courage to embark on this experiment and then write this article is not only an example of sacred action, but it is also a reason to rejoice. It's evidence that my meditation practice is working--it's fostering positive growth and compassion, it's a catalyst for healing, and it's an indication of spiritual maturity. These are all reasons to celebrate.
* I am grateful to A.D.S. for giving me the opportunity to practice and engage in this analytical experiment.
+++++++
There is a very good chance that I will see A.D.S. in the next couple of days when I return to Bloomington for the next Dharma teaching. She may even read or listen to this article.
I'm not anxious about either of these possibilities--nor am I dreading them. I feel open-hearted and receptive. I'm looking forward to learning more, and I'm confident enough to face whatever thoughts and emotions may surface. I know that, if needed, I can sit with them, too--and respond appropriately.
Thank you for taking the time to read or listen to this month's blog post. I hope it was helpful, and I hope it encourages you to continue to learn and grow as you embark on your own meditation experiments and practices.
While you're here, please check out the current MMM collection of hand-knotted malas. Several new designs have been added recently: middlemoonmalas.com.
Tending and Attending: Spring Cleaning as a Practice March 26, 2022 13:49

If you prefer to listen to this month's blog article, please click HERE for the audio link.
It's that time of year again--Spring is here! Birds are busy building their nests, and I am busy cleaning mine. I'm on Spring Break this week, and this is an ideal time for deep cleaning.
A few days ago, I deep cleaned our living room. I was on a mission!
I dusted the tables, lamps, framed photos, I vacuumed the couch and chairs, pushed all of the furniture to the middle of the room so I could sweep the baseboards, I corralled dust bunnies and a few dead stink bugs, mopped every corner and square inch, scooched the furniture back in place, and collapsed in exhaustion...
This. Was. A. Chore! It was a "have to," and I did not enjoy the process. While I was cleaning, my thoughts were scattered (much like the fluffy dust bunnies). I was thinking about other things that I needed to do later--or things that I would rather do besides clean the living room. I thought about my friends who were vacationing in warm, seaside climates and grew resentful. Ugh!
Even though the room looked great afterwards, and I was glad that I had taken the time to clean it (all two hours of it), I wasn't really satisfied. My mind was agitated rather than calm, and my body was exhausted rather than energized.
This is the result of striving. Striving comes from a place of "have to" rather than "want to." Striving is motivated by obligation and ego; it's an operation of "should." It's a product of pushing and forcing rather than allowing. My mind was definitely not attentive to any part of the process in this cleaning adventure. I was just hurrying to get it done--and that's no way to live.

Yesterday, I fell into cleaning the kitchen, which is adjacent to the living room. I didn't plan it ahead of time. I had wandered into the kitchen in my pajamas to make some juice (carrot, Granny Smith apple, and ginger). As I sat at the table, I noticed crumbs and a few stains on my placemat.
After drinking my juice, I cleared the table. I was present with what I was doing, I wasn't in a hurry, and I was tending to one thing at a time. I started with the mail that seems to magically accumulate, sorting bills out of the junk mail and miscellaneous catalogues. I tossed the stained placemats in the laundry basket, wiped the table with a clean washcloth, sorted spices and vitamins that we keep on trivets, and put fresh placemats on the table.
I could have stopped there at that point, but I liked how the table looked, and I liked how I felt. I was clear-headed and present. I was mindful, alert, and gently focused. I wasn't thinking about later--instead, I was tending to right now, to this present moment. As a result, I kept going.
I moved a huge planter that was taking up valuable cabinet space to the porch. Then, I cleaned the cabinet space, wiping away a few dead leaves and bits of potting soil.
Then, I moved the chairs into the hall, along with anything else that was on the floor--a trash can, a pair of shoes, Jim's heavy duty lunch box, so I could sweep the floor. I moved with ease and with a calm mind as I brushed the crumbs and dust to the center of the floor. All that mattered was what was happening in the moment. I was aware of the broom handle in my hands, the texture, the cool temperature of metal against my palms and fingers. I was aware of the sounds the bristles made as they brushed across the floor. It was an embodied experience.
I brushed the dust and crumbs into a dust pan, filled a container with warm water, a few drops of dish soap, a splash of vinegar, and a few drops of essential oils (Lemon and Siberian Fir). I took my time as I mopped the floor. I enjoyed the smell of citrus and earthy pine as I made my way around the kitchen.
What started as a simple observation--stains and crumbs on a placemat--turned into a practical exercise in functional mindfulness. I wasn't agitated or exhausted afterwards. Instead, I was calm and energized, and I had enjoyed the process. I was curious and had a gentle, playful attitude. I was very aware of my body moving through the room and was attentive to sensory details--textures, smells, colors, temperatures.
I had been tending, rather than forcing. I had been attentive, rather than scattered and harried. I had enjoyed the sights, sounds, and sensations rather than bypassing them with distracted thoughts.
The result was the same--I had a clean kitchen to show for my efforts, but because my efforts were relaxed and rooted in gentle awareness, I was able to appreciate and enjoy each part of the process. It wasn't a chore, rooted in ego with a destination or agenda, or a "have to"--it was a pleasant, mindful, moving meditation.
And what's more, I didn't even bother to look at the clock to see how long this took. I had forgotten about the time!
I did a lot more than clean my kitchen yesterday. This experience was a wonderful reminder that meditation practice does not just occur on a cushion. It can happen anywhere. The key ingredients are a relaxed mindset and a gentle, but attentive focus.
Early this morning, I listened to Brené Brown's Dare to Lead podcast with guest Amishi Jha, neurologist and author of Peak Mind. (Here's the link to her episode: Finding Focus and Owning Your Attention)
They discussed the relevance, importance, and value of mindfulness and meditation--and specifically, how these practices can impact focus and memory.
I liked the metaphor that Jha used comparing the mind to a flashlight. The mind can really only focus on one thing at a time, but the mind is also wired for wandering. Consequently, practices like mindfulness, meditation, mantra recitations, etc. can help to gently shine the light of attention where you need to and redirect it easily if it strays.
We're all works in progress, and I am actively working on bringing a more mindful focus to what I do more often during the day--to tend and attend with awareness and ease.
The time I spend on my cushion and the time I spend with mantra practice help me to recharge the batteries of my own "flashlight," especially when I feel the urge to strive and force my way through the day.
Spring is an ideal time to renew your personal practice. If you haven't had an opportunity to check out the full collection of Middle Moon Malas, please do! Several beautiful new hand-knotted malas have been added to the online shop.
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
If you prefer to listen to this month's blog post, please click here for the link.
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

If you prefer to listen to this month's blog post, please click here for an audio file.
I had a friend ask me recently how my mantra practice has changed my life or made a difference in my life.
At first, I mentioned small things--like finding joy and appreciating everyday moments--the burst of color of autumn leaves...watching a child toddle toward a school bus in the morning and not feeling impatient about having to wait in traffic, but taking a moment to enjoy the moment.
However, it occurred to me later that there was a more significant change that I've noted recently. It has taken time to develop, and it has evolved and morphed very slowly and gradually.
This change that I've noticed is that I am not feeling the need to elaborate on situations, events, or occurrences, especially those that made me feel unsettled, agitated, annoyed, or even traumatized.
Before I started a daily mantra practice, I was prone to oversharing details--whether good, bad, or indifferent. I felt inclined to justify myself or over explain even the most mundane occurrences. I wanted others to know "the whole story."
In recounting the details, especially of unsettling stories, I would relive the suffering of the original encounter, and I also ran the risk of causing suffering for others by spewing these details, too.
However, I've noticed a significant change in this pattern since I've been practicing regularly. I've caught myself on three separate occasions recently.
For example, I recently attended the Bands of America Grand Nationals Competition in Indianapolis. A friend of mine saw my FB post and sent me a private message asking if I knew a friend of hers who is a choreographer of band shows and who also happens to be a Buddhist teacher.
I messaged in response, "I know of him," but that was it. I steered the written conversation toward the current performances and how talented the musicians were. In other words, I didn't feel the need to mention or dredge up any unpleasant details.
I actually did have an unusual exchange a few years ago with this friend of hers. He wanted to argue about an article I had shared online about meditation, and when I didn't engage, he became increasingly more judgmental and angry. Ultimately, he got the last word with a snarky remark and then blocked me from his page.
Even these are bare-bones details. I don't feel the need, even now, to recount the entire story. It's water under the bridge. I also don't need this person's approval or friendship, and I didn't feel the need to bring up an inconsequential conflict now with the friend who messaged me. These details from the past were irrelevant to the current conversation.
I left it at, "I know of him."
In another recent conversation with a friend, this time a spoken one, we were discussing our Tibetan language lessons. I mentioned that I had changed textbooks, and that I had found another book that was more helpful for me.
I didn't feel the need to elaborate on the specific reasons or explain why the other text was not a good fit for me. I didn't mention the poor organization, the occasional misspellings, the firehose-type spray of overwhelming information in each chapter, which was incredibly anxiety-triggering for me.
Instead, I left it at, "I found another book that motivates me to learn," and we continued on with our conversation.
Finally, this pattern has not just had an impact on written and spoken conversations with others. It has also had an impact on my own private thoughts.
Last week I was at home sweeping the kitchen floor when I thought about a teacher who used to be at the Dharma center that I currently attend. He's since moved on to another center on the East Coast.
Instead of rehashing and ruminating about the handful of brief encounters when I had observed him being judgmental of others or rude to me, I simply stopped these thoughts with another one--"He's not my teacher."
This single thought put a stop to an unnecessary, negative thought spiral, and it allowed me to be present with what I was doing instead.
In essence, my daily mantra practice is preventing and stopping cycles of suffering for others and for myself.
I am choosing my words and thoughts more carefully, I am more engaged with people in the present moment, and I'm less likely to overshare or overshadow conversations with unnecessary editorializing and kvetching.
Even in my own head, I'm not allowing unpleasant memories or judgments to interfere with the present moment.
In short, I'm letting the irrelevant and negative details go. They don't serve others, they don't serve me, and they don't serve my practice.
I'm grateful for my friend for asking her question--and I'm grateful for having opportunities to notice this change in my thinking and my practice. I'm also hopeful that continuing to practice will bring about even more beneficial changes in the future.
My hope is that your personal practice benefits you as well as others, too.
__

By the way, the Indy Holistic Hub Wellbeing Fest in Indianapolis earlier this month was a big success. Several beautiful malas found new homes, and I am working steadily to add new designs to the online shop. Please visit middlemoonmalas.com to view the current and ever-growing collection.
Estrangement and the Power of Metta September 30, 2021 08:51

If you prefer to listen to this month's blog, please click here.
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
