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Relax and Allow: How a Mantra Practice Can Invite an Appreciation for the Present Moment November 1, 2016 00:00
As often as I can, I like to go to the Tibetan Mongolian Buddhist Cultural Center in Bloomington on Sundays for a morning lecture. This past Sunday, Geshe Kunga presented a teaching on patience. During these lectures, Geshe Kunga speaks in Tibetan, and another monk, who’s actually in Virginia, translates via Skype on a small laptop. I know, it sounds like a scene from Lost, but I actually look forward to these weekly “Dharma transmissions.”
Last Sunday, the weather was absolutely beautiful. The double doors on both sides of the main room in the temple were open, letting in mild breezes and the sounds of rustling leaves and birdsong.
The view to my left was especially scenic, and my gaze kept drifting toward it throughout the lecture. My student self was listening to Geshe and the cyber monk, but my artistic self was growing a little antsy. I had my camera with me in my bag, and I wanted to capture a photo of the open door—the sunlight streaming through lace curtains, the contrast of the brightly painted temple walls against the shadows of falling leaves, the literal threshold between the manmade and the natural. It was stunning….and very distracting.
My attention was divided, and I was holding the tension associated with grasping and clinging attachment. I could feel it in my body and mind. Technically, I could have taken a photo during the teaching, but it would have been weird. The room is small; there were only a dozen or so practitioners in attendance, but it was a lecture in a temple, not a scenic overlook or tourist attraction.
I mentioned that the lecture was about patience….so, I waited. At the end of class, after the bows and prostrations, I returned to my cushion, and just as I was lining up the shot, Geshe Kunga walked across the room to close one of the doors and was headed to the second set to close it, too, in preparation for the prayer session after lunch. I had just enough time to grab my camera, focus, and snap the shot just as the door shut.
The photo was not what I had expected, and it wasn’t the shot that I thought I had wanted. It was better. It was better than anything that I could have planned or anticipated.
The universe keeps giving me opportunities to relax and allow. The more present I can be without clinging to attachments or preconceived notions, the more I can enjoy and receive the benefits of what these moments have to offer.
One of the best ways for me to practice this present-moment acceptance is through japa. Reciting mantras with a mala helps to still the obsessive thoughts and the constant anticipation and planning that goes on in my head. The repetition of the mantra itself is soothing, and each complete circuit of a mala is a way for me to mark time with presence. I can relax and allow into this practice, which permits me to relax, allow, and enjoy other aspects of my life as well.
Giving and Receiving: Three Keys to Finding Balance October 4, 2016 12:05
I recently learned that one of my dearest friends from junior high/high school passed away suddenly. We lost touch a few years after graduation, but learning of her passing stirred up old memories for me.
Josie was a very kind-hearted, sincere person. Everyone loved her. She was popular and active in orchestra, drama, journalism, Student Council, speech and debate, and German club. In high school, we worked together at a local Dairy Queen.
Josie was a giver—she willingly gave her time and energy to anyone who needed it. She was a doer and a people-pleaser. She often went out of her way to help someone else, even if it meant sacrificing her own well-being.
Learning of her recent passing was a shock. She left behind a young daughter and many family members and friends who are reeling from this loss. Her passing is a fierce reminder of how important it is to set boundaries and balance giving with receiving.
I know from my own experiences how easy it is to get sucked into the giving vortex—that all-consuming need to fulfill others’ obligations or serve others so as not to disappoint. It feels good to be helpful, but if not balanced with taking the time to nurture and restore your own reserves, it can be exhausting.
Finding this balance is like breathing. Breathing is involuntary —we don’t have to think about it; it just happens. However, this can be a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, we don’t have to worry about scheduling time to breathe— on the other hand, it becomes too easy to take this vital activity for granted.
Each breath we take is a reminder of how essential it is to balance giving and receiving. Giving without receiving is like exhaling without inhaling. Eventually, it depletes you of your energy, time, and motivation. It’s exhausting, unnatural, and unhealthy.
So what do you do when you find this delicate balance of give and receive has shifted? How do you recover, nourish the self, and restore balance?
- STOP!
When you first begin to notice the tug of obligation pulling you into the vortex of endless giving, stop!
Don’t do ANYTHING—even if it’s for a few minutes. Lock yourself in a bathroom or step outside and gaze at the sky to take a much-needed perspective break.
Sit quietly
Turn off the gadgets
Be present
Moments like these are when the benefits of a meditation practice really start to pay off. By pausing and paying attention to how you’re feeling and observing what you’re thinking can help guide you. Giving yourself permission to sit, stand, lean against a wall and just BE without doing, thinking, and strategizing can help prevent another exhausting loop inside the vortex.
2. MAKE TIME—don’t find it—you won’t—you have to actively MAKE TIME to do something that nourishes yourself.
Go for a walk (the woods, a park, the beach—find a nearby beautiful place to explore)
Make a nourishing meal (for yourself)
Read (FOR FUN)
Go see a movie
3. Set Healthy Boundaries by Saying NO
You cannot please everyone, and only a fool will try. Setting boundaries by saying “No” with conviction and respect is like the pause between the exhale and the inhale. It marks a necessary shift from giving to receiving. You cannot effectively help, serve, or give to others if you do not take the time to nurture yourself. The trick to this one is knowing when you’ve given enough, and knowing when it’s time to pause and fill up your own reserves. Also, understand that you will disappoint some people at times—but it’s OK—they’ll get over it. If they love and respect you, they’ll understand and forgive you. If they don’t, then they weren’t worth your time and effort in the first place.
I’m grieving the loss of my childhood friend. Josie was a kind-hearted, beautiful spirit, and I will miss her. I’ve actively included her memory in my personal meditation practice—dedicating rounds of my japa practice to her. She was a dear friend and a bright light. She helped me endure a very difficult phase of my life, and she taught me several powerful, meaningful life lessons. Her friendship was a treasure.
Completing the Circuit: Adding Variety to a Mantra Practice September 5, 2016 14:03
I like variety, as well, so sometimes, I chant while sitting on a meditation cushion. Sometimes, I chant silently. Sometimes, I write out the mantra in a small notebook. Sometimes, I chant aloud while driving, but my favorite way to practice is to chant while walking.Celebrating Sweet and Savory Choices August 2, 2016 11:31
We have choice, and our choices direct our paths. They may not define us, but they do lead us from one moment to the next. Each experience—each moment, has something unique to teach us.
This morning, I chose to drive to Bloomington to attend a lecture at the Tibetan Mongolian Buddhist Cultural Center. Afterwards, I chose to go to Anyetsang’s Little Tibet for lunch. I do not regret either choice.
Currently, I’m sitting under a red patio umbrella. A late summer breeze teases colorful prayer flags overhead. I can hear the sounds of a fountain gurgling behind me. Cicadas are grinding away the hot afternoon in their shrill, spiral cries as steady traffic hums along 4th Street.
I have the patio mainly to myself, and I have the time and freedom to enjoy a mango lassi—and to savor every bite of the cabbage dumplings—pan-seared and served with soy sauce. A sparrow hops around under my table, and heads of black-eyed Susans gently nod in encouragement.
I am at ease. I am at peace. I am savoring this present moment.
Earlier, I had considered stopping by the Jordan Greenhouse on the IU campus to see Wally, the titan arum, or corpse flower, in full bloom. The corpse flower blooms only once every ten to twenty years, and it emits a strong odor similar to the stench of rotting flesh. It’s a botanical wonder, and seeing this plant in full bloom would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. However, vegetarian momos were calling my name, so I chose Little Tibet over Wally. Besides, isn’t every moment a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? (I Googled Wally later in the day and watched him unfold online--so this choice was a win-win).
Every choice we make carries effects or consequences. The more mindful and present we are, the more mindful and present our choices are. Our lives are like malas, in this way. The beads represent the beautiful aspects of life (prayer flags, sunshine, momos), and the knots represent the challenges (the stench of rotting flesh). Challenge and beauty are interconnected and balanced, and as we progress through the circuit of our lives from moment to moment, we have the choice to be present—to learn from each experience—to enjoy and savor each bead and knot of our lives.
One Breath, One Bead at a Time. July 4, 2016 16:04
The Zombie Apocalypse is real. For 25 years, I taught high school English. For many of those years, I felt trapped in a perpetual cycle of planning lessons, creating tests and essay assignments, grading papers, and attempting to manage and meet the academic needs of students crammed in over-crowded classrooms. I often felt confined by the clock and by the ever-present and perpetually-increasing demands that a data-driven system thrives on—the almighty standardized test scores.
I felt stressed—all the time—and I spent very little time in the present moment. This constant striving, doing, rushing, pushing, and grasping for the future or ruminating and worrying about the past kept me from meeting the needs of my students and taking care of myself. It also kept me out of the present moment, and it prevented me from enjoying my life. My students never really knew who I was—and neither did I.
For a quarter of a century, I was caught up in a trance, and yoga and meditation gradually helped me break the spell and encouraged me to find balance and purpose in my life.
My first experience with yoga and meditation occurred when I was a freshman at Butler. A guest speaker came to our Physical Education/Health class. My fellow classmates and I were crammed into a small classroom/storage room, and many of us giggled our way through the guided meditation followed by a brief asana practice in the gym. This was not an ideal environment to explore the benefits of meditation and yoga, and it certainly didn’t leave a lasting or accurate impression on me.
I revisited meditation when I was pregnant with my daughter in 1994, and in 2000, started regularly attending a yoga class at a local gym. Progress was glacially slow—but gradually, very gradually, I started to find a respite from the 10,000 distractions and thoughts that blocked my path, and I started to connect and reconnect with myself.
Stilling the constant mental chatter in meditation was a big challenge in the beginning—and still can be at times, even now. But with consistent practice, and, ideally, after an hour of asana practice, it’s much easier to climb inside the present moment. Memories, thoughts, and feelings still rise to the surface, but it’s easier now to briefly acknowledge them, allow them to drift away in order to make room for the spaces between thoughts.
Yoga, too, has helped. It has helped me focus on my breathing—and to bring my awareness out of the mind and into the body—even for just a little while. Yoga also allows me to sit more comfortably when I’m meditating—and to sit for longer periods of time.
In recent years, I have added a mantra practice with malas to enhance my meditation and yoga practice. Using a mala gives me a tactile anchor that keeps me rooted and grounded in the here and now. Each bead becomes a fresh focal point, a new beginning, ushering in a new moment. Each inhalation, each exhalation, each repetition of the mantra welcomes now, and now, and now.
Ultimately, my yoga and meditation practice has saved my life—it has helped me find balance and perspective, and it has prevented me from falling off the precipice of perpetual busyness and disappearing into the abyss of the living dead.
I’ve since retired from teaching full-time. I still tutor part-time, and working with students one-on-one allows me to give them my undivided attention—to be fully present. I also teach and practice yoga, and along with running a small business, I still remain very busy, but I am no longer a slave to busyness. I am living my life on my own terms, and I am living my life one moment at a time—one bead at a time.
Honoring Those Who Have Come before You June 1, 2016 08:00
My introduction to a meditation practice was not dramatic, by any means. My japa roots are humble ones; I fell into this practice by a combination of happenstance, intuition, and luck. I didn’t have a guru or a spiritual teacher to show me the way. My spiritual teachers were found mainly in books and Sounds True courses on cassette tapes (later CDs): Louise Hay, Alan Watts, Marianne Williamson, Eckhart Tolle, Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Don Miguel Ruiz, Caroline Myss, and Carl Jung. Each book, each lecture was like an individual bead on a sutra—one following the other—each one connected and interconnected—leading me to exactly where I was meant to go…and be.
I started to meditate when I was pregnant with my daughter, Elise. At the time, I was naïve enough to think that meditation would help me transcend the pain of childbirth. I never dreamed that it would become a lifelong habit that would help me navigate the joys and challenges of life, and that it would become an absolute necessity for the demands of parenthood.
In the winter of 1994, I made weekly trips to a small home in Broad Ripple that had been converted into a meditation center. I remember our shoes lined up in neat rows by the door, the faint smell of jasmine incense, sunlight streaming through partially opened blinds, and that purple maternity Barneyesque sweat suit that I wore (It was the only thing comfortable enough for me to sit and meditate in). I was full of hope and purpose, and I was eager to welcome a new life as well as a new practice into my own life.
I persisted, sitting every evening in front of a small votive candle on the floor of my daughter’s freshly-painted nursery. After she was born, sitting in meditation became more sporadic, but it still happened—and life also happened. However, I found new teachers to lead the way—poets, this time: Li-Young Lee, Jane Hirschfield, Gary Snyder, Dorianne Laux, Ted Kooser, Rita Dove, Charles Simic, Rumi, Dōgen…
I bought my first mala before I knew what it was for—or how to use it. I knew they were sacred, like the rosaries I had seen my mother and grandmother use, and I knew that they were connected to meditation and spiritual practices, but that was all. I was drawn to the black specks on the creamy white bodhi seeds—a Moon and Stars Mala. It called to me, and I answered. For a long time, I kept it in my home office; it shared space on a table with a small candle and a statue of Kwan Yin. I liked the feel of the seeds between my fingers—and sometimes I wore it to school.
Eventually, all of the pieces of the puzzle came together with the help of many more teachers. This time, real-live human beings were coming into my life to enhance my practice, and I was very grateful for their arrival. I was able to link my meditation, yoga, and mantra practices together, integrating body, mind, and spirit.
What started as naïve curiosity had blossomed and deepened into a sincere, heart-driven practice and a desire to share this practice with others. I love creating and designing custom malas for others, never forgetting how my own practice began, and honoring the teachers (literary and real-life) who helped me along the way. My meditation practice started before I gave birth to my daughter, but what I didn’t realize is that, all along, this practice was helping me awaken, helping me realize my potential, and helping me serve others in a meaningful way.
From Rut to Groove: Diving Deeply into the Heart of a Mantra Practice May 10, 2016 12:27
Repeating a mantra is like chanting the rhythm of your own heart. A mantra practice is a journey that spirals inward to the center of your capital “S” self. According to the Zen master Huang Po, our true nature “shines through the whole universe.” It is our “all-pervading radiant beauty,” and a regular mantra practice can be a vehicle to access and appreciate that shimmering, radiant beauty at the heart of the Self.
I’ve been exploring the adventures of a regular mantra practice for nearly two years. I’ve embarked on various forty-day sadhanas with different mantras—logging patterns, side-effects, and reactions much like an anthropologist or biologist in the field jots down notes and observations. After several months, I’ve finally hit a wall. Granted, my life has picked up momentum—I’ve grown busier with “have to’s” and domestic obligations. I have bills to pay, classes to teach, workshops to take, malas to create, yada, yada, yada.
Last night I found myself hurrying to complete a round of the long version of the Gayatri so I wouldn’t miss the opening scene of Penny Dreadful. That’s pretty bad (on many levels). When my mantra practice becomes another item on my checklist to complete, I know it’s time to make a change.
In the midst of managing the distractions and obstacles that life is hurling my way, I’d grown weary and bored with chanting, and my practice had become stale and mechanical as a result. Fortunately, a mantra practice is not a hindrance; it’s designed to help us navigate life’s challenging, murky waters.
My resistance is an indication that I’m ready to dive more deeply. At the surface, a mantra practice is the parrot-like recitation of spiritual formulas—the memorization of Sanskrit words—the tactile sensations of beads sliding between finger and thumb. However, this is just the surface—there is much more waiting to be discovered at the heart of the practice and within the heart of the Self.
Boredom, anger, and restlessness had settled into my practice —and while it’s easy to blame the busyness of my life, I know that’s not entirely true. It’s time to start listening to my heart—to begin to pay attention—to really pay attention to what I’m feeling—to be patient—to sit with those feelings–to allow them to surface—without judgment—without repressing them—to hold space for my heart to speak—to make time to listen and to honor its messages.
For now, I’ve suspended the forty-day sadhana experiments with supplemental mantras. I’m focusing my attention solely on the long Gayatri—rededicating—recommitting to my practice—but I’m also refining my intention and attention. I’m not simply reciting words and counting beads. I’m listening to my heart, I’m reconnecting to this practice, I’m trusting that it will take me where I am supposed to go, and I’m diving deeper, escaping the rut and plunging into the groove.
Using Malas and Mantras to Deal with Energy Bullies March 30, 2016 08:40
We've all had to deal with energy bullies at one time or another, and we have all been someone's energy bully as well. They can be family members, friends, colleagues, partners, and spouses. Energy bullies have difficulty being accountable for their own behavior. They are prone to blaming, complaining, judging, and playing mind games in order to protect their own egos or to manipulate others.
Being around an energy bully can deplete our own energy and erode our self-esteem.
There's good news, though. Toxic people give us opportunities to transform ourselves and grow, and using malas and mantras can help foster this transformation.
Energy bullies are especially astute at honing in on other's vulnerabilities and blind spots. That's their hook--and if you let them--they latch on and drain you of positive energy and confidence. So, how do you effectively deal with energy bullies?
1. Identify the Root Source
What is the Achilles' heel, trigger issue, or soft spot that they have targeted with you? It may be a behavior pattern, an issue that you are sensitive about, a belief, characteristic, or specific situation. Identify why and how they push your buttons.
2. Pause
Once you take note of who pushes your buttons and which situations elicit strong reactions or energetically drain you....PAUSE.
Give yourself permission to allow feelings of anger, resentment, fear, exhaustion, and doubt to surface. Sit with these feelings--invite them to tea for a few moments. Open your heart and make space for these feelings. Then,
3. Healthy Detachment
Let them go! Strong reactions of anger and resentment only entrench us more deeply in the toxic relationship with an energy bully. Once you've identified the source and held space for the feelings surrounding it, detach from it emotionally (THIS IS EASIER SAID THAN DONE, and IT TAKES PRACTICE).
Gently offering yourself compassion and acceptance during this process will allow you to empower yourself and bolster your strength and confidence.
4. Malas and Mantras:Tools of Empowerment
Using a mala and incorporating a mantra practice can be a very useful tool to disengage from an energy bully. This practice can act as an antidote to the source issue.
Choose a mala and a mantra that will embody the qualities that you would like to cultivate.
Need strength and protection? Call on Durga to help: Om Dum Durgayei Namaha
Need spiritual wisdom and maturity? Shiva can offer assistance: Om Nama Shivaya
If you're quick to anger and need peace, Kwan Yin can help: Namo Kwan Shi Yin Pusa
Need an all-purpose mantra for balance and equanimity? Om Hum So Hum
There are thousands of mantras to choose from, and a Google search and listening to your own intuition can help you find one that's best for you. Make time each day to chant, sing, whisper, or think this mantra while using your mala. I recommend a 40-day sadhana, or practice, if possible. Keep note of your progress in a spiritual journal or log. Before you know it, you'll reclaim your power and help prevent future energy bullies from sabotaging you.
The Subtle Side-Effects of a Chanting Practice March 2, 2016 15:00
Everything we are, and everything that is, is vibration. All sentient beings and all inanimate objects in the cosmos are teeming expressions of vibrational flow. When this flow is disturbed or disrupted, disharmony is the result. A mantra or chanting practice can help restore harmony and balance again by kneading the cells of the body with sound. One of the best ways to recalibrate and reboot your own system is through a regular practice of chanting Sanskrit mantra.
I've been practicing forty-day sadhanas with various mantras over the course of the last two years, and upon reflecting on this practice, I've noticed some interesting side-effects.
* Increased Presence
I'm finding it's much easier to stay in the present moment. This can be both a blessing and a curse. For example, I'm not writing nearly as many lists on Post-it notes, and I'm not as caught up in the trance of future thinking--the endless streams of "I have to do this," and "I have to do that," etc.
However, I'm finding that I immerse myself completely in the most mundane tasks. I'm totally engaged in loading the dishwasher or flossing my teeth, and time slips away from me. Last week, I spent twenty minutes in the produce section at Target--totally mesmerized by the colors, shapes, and smells of fruits and veggies, as if it were an art exhibit at the IMA.
*Managing Difficult Emotions
When anger, frustration, fear, resentment, and general crankiness rise to the surface, I'm able to stay with these unpleasant feelings for longer periods of time without casting judgment or pushing them away. I can sit (stand, walk, or drive) with them with an objective heart and mind--simply noticing and holding space for these feelings--until they dissipate on their own.
This morning as I was driving to school, a man in an old pick-up truck tailgated me all the way down Morgantown Rd. Every time I glanced in my rear view mirror, he made various aggressive hand gestures, clearly indicating his disapproval of me driving the speed limit. Instead of responding with equal and opposite frustration, though, I remained calm and focused, and when he barreled past me across the double line, I didn't take it personally, and I didn't feel the need to speed up and chase after him, which is evidence of significant growth for me.
*New Teachers and Adventures
One of the most pleasant side-effects of my mantra practice is that it has been sending new teachers and adventures my way. I've met amazingly creative,supportive,and nourishing people outside my usual circles who have helped me learn and grow in so many ways. They've helped me stretch beyond my comfort zones, offering guidance and encouragement at just the right time.
For a long time, I've wanted to visit the Tibetan Mongolian Buddhist Cultural Center in Bloomington, Indiana, and in the last few months, I've visited several times, attending various pujas, lectures, and events there.The monks have been very kind and warm-hearted, and their welcoming and open spirits have been both inspirational and refreshing.
In addition to honoring the Divine that dwells within, I've found that the heart of a regular mantra practice also includes elevating your vibrational frequencies. Each forty-day sadhana brings new experiences and insights, and each spiritual formula has its own unique lessons to teach. I'm looking forward to exploring the treasures that dwell in the next Sanskrit mantra.
Renew, Recharge, Restring February 6, 2016 23:02
Nothing is permanent. Nothing is fixed forever in time and space.
Over time, a well-used mala will eventually stretch, pull, and break--and will require restringing. A fresh sutra and tassel can rejuvenate a mala, infusing fresh energy and life into a mantra and meditation practice as well. It can renew our resolve, giving our practice a boost with a fresh pop of color and strong, tight knots of support.
Just as a fresh perspective can shed light on a recurring problem or a rekindled sense of appreciation for an everyday occurrence, a restrung mala can bring us back to what matters--or at the very least, an awareness, a mindfulness of what's right in front of us.
The beads feel different between the fingers. The journey toward the guru is smooth--solid--secure.
Small changes and shifts can lead to positive outcomes. After weeks of cold temperatures, overcast skies, and snow, the sun finally emerged, and I, along with half of Greenwood, waited in line for thirty minutes at Mike's Car Wash.
I don't mind waiting--I used that time to chant in the quiet confines of my car--and I knew that the wait would be worthwhile. At the end of it all, after the warm sprays of water, the rhythmic thumping of large whirring brushes--after surrendering to the necessary cycles of rinse-wash-rinse-dry, my car and I would emerge clean and sparkling.
A car wash does not lead to a miraculous transformation--and nothing dramatic had changed, really. However, sometimes miraculous things dwell in the ordinary. Having salt and dirt washed away--dull streaks on windows cleaned--it gave me a renewed appreciation for where I was, for what I had. The path before me was sharper, clearer. I noticed things on my way home that I hadn't paid attention to before, and my mood had lifted.
Familiarity can lead to taking people, places, and things for granted. Taking the same route over again can create a dullness--a foggy haze over the mind and senses. Whether it's driving on familiar streets or completing another round of a mala that you've used for years, taking the time to restore and renew is critical to your meditation practice, and to your life in general.
**In addition to offering one-of-a-kind malas, Middle Moon Malas can also restring malas that have stretched or broken from use. Send us a message through the Contact Us tab for rates and services.
Hello 2016: Setting Intentions for the New Year January 1, 2016 06:52
It's that time of year again--January 1--the start of a new year. The potential and hope of 2016 is wide open and waiting. All we have to do is realize that potential. Right? In theory, yes, but in practice, things can grow a little murky and uncertain.
This year, I have committed to sitting in meditation every day--even if it's for just five minutes; my intention is to establish a seated meditation practice. Chanting in my car on the way to work--piece of cake. Moving meditation--whether while walking or while practicing a slow yoga vinyasa, no problem. At some point during the day, I usually sit in a chair or on the couch and complete a round of chanting with a mala, but it's not necessarily in the same place--and it isn't necessarily quiet. I may hear the sound of the TV drifting in from another room, or my husband or daughter will enter whatever room I'm in to ask me a question, or the bell will ring during a passing period at school, and my practice will be accompanied by the sounds of teenagers shuffling and chatting in the hall.
This year, things are going to be different. I even invested in a lovely zafu and zabuton set (thanks to Dharma Crafts) as an additional incentive and spent over an hour cleaning the living room which had been taken over by various boxes, bags, and books from my daughter's college dorm room.
It's January 1. I've cleared the space. I've made the time. I have the house to myself. I have a lovely place to sit and meditate. What could possibly go wrong? As I settle onto my meditation cushion and begin to connect with the rhythm of my breath, Maya, our four-pound Yorkie, and Hugo, our 100-pound Bouvier, decide that now is a good time to chase each other around the house. Hugo is twelve-years old, so his hips are a little arthritic, and he's a bit clumsy now as he stomps around the house like Frankenstein's monster trying to keep up with two-year-old Maya.
This, in and of itself, isn't bad. I can deal with the occasional sounds of the trash can or chairs being bumped around in the kitchen. Even the fast-paced sounds of Maya running around like Speedy Gonzalez followed by Hugo's labored clomping are manageable. It's when they both stop running in the hallway--and it gets really quiet--I can't abide that. I know what's happening--Maya has rolled over, showing her belly--and Hugo is licking her belly, and her face, and her legs, until she's totally soaked in his big dog saliva--wet,sticky,and smelling weird--that I can't handle.
I open my eyes, sigh, and walk down the hall, where they are both staring at me like guilty toddlers. Hugo is drooling on the floor, and Maya is a soaking-wet pupsicle. I grab a towel from the bathroom closet, clean up the puddle in the hall, scoop Maya up in my arms, and walk back to my meditation cushion. Hugo lumbers into the living room and sits down next to me, resting his head on the corner of my zabuton. Maya is in my lap wrapped up in the towel. They both settle and become still.
It takes me a hot second to recover from this ridiculous interruption. After about a minute, my giggling subsides, my breathing settles, and I am able, at last, to meditate. It didn't happen like I had imagined, but it did happen, and I was able to share my experience with my two puppy children, and, honestly, they seemed pretty open to the experience. That's the way it goes with resolutions...or intentions...or anything else, for that matter. Unexpected glitches occur, and things don't usually go as planned, but with a little patience, perseverance, and creative adjusting, they do eventually happen. Only 364 days to go....wish me luck. Happy 2016 everyone!
Enduring the Knots....Celebrating the Beads December 5, 2015 17:35
A mala is a metaphor for life in our universe. Every bead represents a truth or principle, and over time, the beads absorb the energy of our focus and attention. We create the life we live by infusing each moment with our thoughts, attitudes, and beliefs.
The Thread: "Sutra" is the Sanskrit word for thread or line that holds things together. The thread or cord running through the mala holds and supports the beads. Consequently, it represents the Creative Force that supports or sustains every part and every being in the universe.
The Beads: The 108 beads collectively represent the universe itself, but individually, they represent the beautiful aspects of life--the good times--beautiful sunsets, grandchildren, hot chai on a rainy day, loyal and supportive friends.These beads are arranged on a never-ending circle, creating a circuit of positive energy that drives life forward into hope and gratitude.
The Knots: The knots between the beads make the mala stronger; however, they also represent life's challenges--a flat tire, an uncertain medical diagnosis, the loss of a job or a loved one. These knots fall between the smoother, more beautiful aspects of life. They also signify the Divine link present among all beings in the universe. Though challenging, these knots remind us that all aspects of life are connected and supported in the universal sutra of life.
The Guru (or Meru) Bead: "Guru" means teacher, and "Meru" means mountain in Sanskrit. The guru or meru bead is often the 109th bead that is connected to the tassel, and it represents the state of transcendental consciousness, the central goal of meditation practice. In order to reach this supreme state of understanding, one must be brave and courageous enough to stay the course--perhaps completing many cycles, many repetitions along the sutra of life--encountering both blessings and challenges along the way.
The Tassel: On a mala, the tassel is an extension of the string or sutra that binds the garland together. It represents our connection to the Divine and the interconnectedness of all beings. It is a reminder of oneness and unity--that we are all connected--and regardless of the challenges that we face or the rewards that we reap, we're all really traveling together, and we have something beautiful to look forward to at the end of our journey.