March Roars In

March came in like a lamb--all quiet and a little bit muddy here on our dirt road. By sundown, a lion of a cold front was blowing in. The wind sounded like a freight train. Did i hear a roar of thunder? 

The electricity went out. A tree fell down on our neighbor's line and blew the transformer. It sounded like a bomb exploding. The electricity came on and went off again. I went to sleep in the pitch black.

Dukkha--suffering, dissatisfaction, discontent--blows into our lives with unexpected force, sometimes leaving us in the darkness of depression--large or small. Dukkha is the impetus that drives us on to a spiritual path.

We learn not to respond to dukkha by roaring, but by feeling tender toward ourselves. Come on, little lamb, have a good cry if you need to. Then give yourself a hug.

Orange Juice

 

Sharon, a California friend, sends me a photo of the orange tree in her back yard. 

Encased in frigid weather here in the North Country, i can't even imagine walking outdoors in bare feet to go pick an orange for breakfast. Fresh squeezed orange juice sounds like heaven.

Yesterday, my spiritual friends group heard from a woman who has a still mind. Unimaginable to the rest of us. Yet, quietude, and eventually, stillness, is one of the fruits of the spiritual life. No mind; no self; no problem.

No problem that i am walking barefoot in the snow.

Noisy Chickadees

Five chickadees arrived on my deck railing at the same time. I suspect it was Mother with 4 of her brood. Wow. Chickadees have a very different family culture than the one i grew up in.

First of all, they all talk at the same time, all the time. And they are loud! No wonder Mother wanted to kick them out of the noisy nest. In addition to calling each other "Sweetheart," they yell at each other constantly. These are my seeds. Go find your own. Or Get off my branch. I was here first. Or Mom! Then they all fly off together, so they obviously do love each other.

I love individual chickadees, but five at a time was eye-opening.

For those of us who are naturally quiet, for those of us who are conflict-averse, for those of us who give in easily, can we find our chickadee voices? Can we give voice to our authentic selves?

After all, the chickadees do call each other Sweetheart.

Blueberry Tents

My neighbor has 2 dozen blueberry bushes in his front yard. He used to have one big net to throw over the whole patch, but now that the Drosophila fly has arrived (in 2010), he covers each bush indivdually to prevent the fly from laying its eggs in the berries of other bushes. In other words, he quarantines each bush separate from all the others.

We are all quarantining ourselves nowadays. Some of us actually enjoy this quiet relief from the busy, workaday world.

Whether or not our bodies are quarantined, it is important to quarantine our minds from the pests that cause worry, anxiety, anger, impatience, and frustration. What pesters your mind?

First of all, identify the pest. What contributes to your particular "pester"? The news? The neighbors? Thoughts of the future? Not knowing what is going to happen? Not knowing, not knowing, not knowing?

In as much as you are able, quarantine yourself from the pests. Turn off the news. Take some quiet time.

It's pretty darn quiet under those blueberry tents. No buzzing of pesky, tiny Drosophila flies.

Early Bird, Late Bird

A cardinal swoops onto the railing of the deck before the sun rises. He's the early bird, the earliest bird to come for a breakfast of sunflower hearts. Soon, chickadees and goldfinches swarm the railing, which we keep well supplied with sunflower hearts. The chickadees eat from our hands; the goldfinches fly off in a flock as soon as we open the deck door. The cardinal does a fly-by, but will not land if we are anywhere to be seen. Instead, he perches in a nearby apple tree, perhaps hiding from us, though we can see him perfectly well.

Cardinals are shelf-feeders, not perching feeders, so occasionally I see him coming in for a landing, but, changing course at the last moment, he continues on down to the ground below our second story deck, where cast-off seeds are hiding in the grass.

After sunset, as the bird chorus quiets into the dusk, the cardinal makes a final visit to eat whatever remains on the railing. Quiet, alone, not bothered by or competing with anyone else.

Wonderful World of White

A wonderful world of white awaited me this morning. Beautiful, soft, and quiet. Sort of like meditation on a good day.

The world slows down to a whisper. Am i bored? Not much. Do i feel the impulse to move? Not really.

When the mind is dissatisfied, the body wants to move to escape that dissatisfaction. Or the mind throws up an entire stockade of thoughts--another escape.

Can i be satisfied with this wonderful world of white?

Icicle Moon

A fingernail of the waning moon hangs in the sky at dawn, flirting with a small pink cloud, which drifts away as the sliver of moon rises into the day and disappears. A nearby icicle watches all of this, frozen as it is on a freezing day.

The moon disappears though we "know" it is still there. Sort of like Awareness, there but invisible to ordinary eyes. Our ordinary eyes focus on icicles, freezing the ever-changing movement of Now into things. And we play with these things as if they are real. As one teacher says, "Nouns are just slow-moving verbs." Nouns make us think that things exist. Nouns delude us into everyday reality.

We catch glimpses of Awareness, just as we catch glimpses of the fingernail moon. Awareness is always there--quietly saying nothing.

Hanging by Her Fingernails

This morning, i looked out the kitchen window to see a big, fat gray squirrel squirming on the squirrel-proof bird feeder. Aha! i thought. I'm going to give that squirrel a good scare.

I quietly opened the door, but the squirrel didn't run away. I walked right up to the bird feeder, and still the squirrel squirmed--and cried. Then i saw that it had one finger caught in the bird feeder. Every time she moved, her finger caused her more pain.

I got a screwdriver and put on leather work gloves. I faced the squirrel who quieted down and stared at me. Was she ready to meet her Maker? Or could she feel my good intentions? I pried the feeding gate off the bird feeder. Still, the squirrel was stuck, hanging by one fingernail.

I peered more closely to see the cause of the problem. Then, suddenly, she was free, and she bounded off.

We too are caught in the pain of stress and distress. We try to think our way through our problem, get caught in the story, and only cause ourselves more distress.

Even when we have the tool for our release close at hand, our little hands are still grasping for something we desire.

Then we drop the desire and are free. Free to live our own wild and precious life.

Paved Paradise

Our Airbnb condo in Puerto Rico faces a beach park, so we are in a great location. But every time we go out the back door to the parking lot to get in the car, we slow down and listen. It's so quiet back there. The parking lot faces a woodsy low land of about 5 acres. It feels like a bird sanctuary. The parking lot is not only quiet and spacious, we hear birds singing, and we feel.... What is that? Paradise?

How can a parking lot be paradise? I am reminded of the Joni Mitchell song, "They paved paradise, and put up a parking lot." That's what this parking lot feels like.

This morning i took a beach chair out behind the industrial-sized generator and sat there for an hour meditating, gazing at the woods, and listening to the birds of paradise singing.

PHOENIX GARDEN IN LONDON

  

Near my hotel in London, the Phoenix Garden is hidden away, a quiet oasis in the city. Even though the garden is closed for renovation, as I approached yesterday, i could suddenly hear birds singing. Birdsong immediately relaxed my heart.

In the city, in this busy city, I am usually walking with some tension and intention. So many things are unknown: Where am I going? How do I get there? Can I cross the street now? I have to remember, have to remember to look in the "wrong" direction for oncoming traffic. I have to be constantly alert, which adds up to stress.

Then, once in a while, I find a garden in the city, on some quiet back street. A place where birds sing. And I can relax.

Berry Bowl

The church Christmas bazaar season has begun, so i went to one of my favorites--the Unitarian-Universalist meeting house. I like to buy a couple of berry bowls--little terrariums filled with moss and partridge berries with cling wrap over the top to keep the humidity inside.

I'll be going on retreat from January 1 to mid-March. I'll be in my own mini-micro-climate--meditating for several hours each day here at home. Letting the outer world go. Becoming calm and quiet, and seeing what beautiful mind states grow.

Christmas Tree Outdoors

In January, I took the Christmas tree outdoors and ensconced it in a snowbank in the white garden at the front door. Instant landscaping! A snow-covered fir tree is so beautiful and so seasonal. It's fun to look out the window and see a fir tree suddenly there, or to drive in the driveway and notice a perfectly-shaped evergreen in the garden.

Many people would like to have instant meditation. I can't tell you how many students say, "But my mind isn't quiet."

Of course, it isn't. We meditate in order to train our minds. Our inner landscape won't instantly be quiet. A quiet-ish mind (for the mind is usually at least wisp-y) requires repetition of meditation.

Outdoor, the Christmas tree stands quietly in the snow.

Dynamite Cranberry Relish

I made a delicious cranberry relish for Thanksgiving dinner. So easy! This from a person who has avoided cranberry sauce for decades.

I chopped up (via the food processor) 1 apple, 1 clementine with peel, and 2 cups of cranberries. I added a couple of tablespoons of maple syrup, but you can use your favorite sweetener.

Dynamite!

How many things do we feel rather lukewarm about until we actually try them?

My friends tell me they could never meditate, never be silent, never go on retreat, never have a quiet mind.

You don't know until you try it.