Paradise - Relocated....

The Buddhist Parable of a Raft:

A man is trapped on one side of a fast-flowing river. Where he stands, there is great danger and uncertainty - but on the far side of the river, there is safety. But there is no bridge or ferry for crossing. So the man gathers logs, leaves, twigs, and vines and is able to fashion a raft, sturdy enough to carry him to the other shore. By lying on the raft and using his arms to paddle, he crosses the river to safety.

The Buddha then asks the listeners a question: “What would you think if the man, having crossed over the river, then said to himself, ‘Oh, this raft has served me so well, I should strap it on to my back and carry it over land now?’”
The monks replied that it would not be very sensible to cling to the raft in such a way.

The Buddha continues: “What if he lay the raft down gratefully, thinking that this raft has served him well, but is no longer of use and can thus be laid down upon the shore?”

The monks replied that this would be the proper attitude.

The Buddha concluded by saying, “So it is with my teachings, which are like a raft, and are for crossing over with — not for seizing hold of.”

With the last box packed in my Subaru, I walked into my empty apartment and stood in the center of the room.  I loved how this place embraced me.  I loved how I felt safe here.  I loved the tall pine ceilings.  Her and I had history.  This place rescued me from danger, not once but twice.  I was saved from sinking.  I took in a deep cleansing breath and reminded myself that I was safe now, and my beautiful nook in woods, my sun-drenched sanctuary had served me well... it was time to thank her, place her down, and not carry her any longer.  Thank you for saving me. 

I've read about when animals are brought into refuge after being abused or injured, and even though at first they wildly resist going into the cage, once they realize they are safe there, they refuse to leave the cage even once they are healed, and being released.   Even though the immediate danger is gone, they relate the wide open fields that were once their home to being hurt or injured - they choose to continue to live in the safety of the cage, and they resist leaving with every fiber of their being.  They miss out on being fully rehabilitated because they live in fear, and they choose the cage.

I am not going to lie - it took a lot of convincing to tell me I was now safe, I was free to leave my sanctuary, and I had crossed the river.  There is no danger in my new home, I am not in peril.  It was my time to leave my refuge and live my life.  It was time to let go of my raft.  Time to leave the cage.  Time for me to fly.

As the moving van pulled away and I looked at my new surroundings, littered with moving boxes and

very disorganized and chaotic,  I found myself mourning the raft.  A few tears dropped down onto the tape covered box I was attempting to open.  Its hard to believe I have crossed over and I am on safe footing, yet still feel this way - fearful for the unknown, shaky, uncertain.... I mourned the embrace of my sun-drenched apartment.  I was the damn caged bird that doesn't recognize how good I have it, and freedom is mine for the taking.... all I have to do is stretch my wings.


MyHoney walked in with an arm full of boxes, and beamed at me like a ray of sun.  Noticing my tears, he put down his cargo, walked over to me, and embraced me.  As I buried my face into his shirt and breathed in deeply his warm hug, and I watched in my minds-eye as I cut the rope to the raft, and gratefully let it float away. 


Paradise is Here, Paradise is Now, Paradise is Releasing the Raft....

Taking the Sting Out of Tragedy....

photo credit: photoblog.nicubunu.ro

 "Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life." John Muir


Running and giggling, we chased and darted after our dog Daisy who had managed to abscond our wiffle ball once again.  My brother who was five years older than me couldn't catch her, so I knew I never would.  It looks like our ball game is over.... so we decided to take off and find a new adventure.  Wiffle ball bat in his hand, my brother started a new game, he is now the Lone Ranger, and I am Tonto (I was always Tonto - he always got to be the Lone Ranger)... and we galloped around using our bats as horses whinying and neighing.... until that game faded away into a new one.  Now we were sword fighters, dueling to defend our family honor... my brother drew his wiffle ball bat sword and took a ferocious swing.. and hit the beehive that was behind him.  The hive toppled over off its platform and split open like a cracked egg. 

photo credit: commons.wikimedia.org

A black cloud of angry bees swarmed out like a pissed off genie.  Their world had been shaken, and they had to lash out and punish the perpetrators.  My brother took off in a full run.  Daisy, knowing that we had done something to get us in trouble, put her ears down, tucked her tail, and slinked deftly to the barn.  But I was too slow to escape. The bees were relentless, coming after me with bitter venom.   Hot stingers flew into my neck, and as I swatted they caught my arms and hands like fiery fish hooks.  By the time I made it to the house, I was a welted mess.  My brother had escaped unscathed.  I was distraught by the injustice of it all.

In my six year old mind, this was the epitome of all that is unfair in the world.  I sat on my mothers lap and wailed... "But I didn't DO anything! Why did the bees sting ME?!?"  She rocked me back and forth, unable to answer my pitful sobs... "Because you were there, and they were angry and scared."  ..... "They were scared Momma?"  I remember being puzzled that fear can result in anger.  Those bees seemed angry to me - I was the one who was afraid.  But as I've grown older, I have witnessed that yes, indeed, when people's worlds are shaken, our fear can manifest as anger, and we lash out and sting anyone who is around.

Photo Credit: internetmonk.com

Yesterday, a gunman walked in  to a school, slayed his mother and gunned down her classroom of elementary children.  Our world has been shaken.  Just like the six year old who was comforted in my mothers arms, I am distraught with the injustice of it all.  But unlike the child I once was, I experienced an explosion of anger.  How could this happen? What kind of world do we live in? 

 I logged onto Facebook and saw others felt the same way - angry.  Venomous posts were flying around about gun control, school policies and politicians.  Then there were posts from other parents that dripped with fear.  They were hugging their children tighter tonight.  They were fearful of letting their children go to school tomorrow.   And of course, there were posts of just deep, sorrowful, heartwrenching grief.   Instead of buying Christmas gifts for their children, they are buying tiny coffins and headstones.  Why is this happening, they didn't do anything - they were innocent children.   My anger evaporated into the mist of sorrow I felt like the six year old sobbing in my mothers arms all over again.  This is truly the epitome of injustice.

Photo Credit: Creative Commons

Just like Daisy, I put my ears down and slunk away.  I shut off the electronic devices, Facebook, and the news...  and retreated to the arms of MyHoney.  I need to get away from the toppled beehive.  

We as humans naturally want answers.  There is injustice in the world - we believe if we can pinpoint how and why the world is unjust, we can do something to remedy it.  We want to fix it.  We just want to DO something. 
  
“Peace comes from within. Do not seek it without.”  ~ Buddha

We turn to our television sets and newspapers looking for answers.  We chat on social media boards trying to find out what other people think.  We take action by signing petitions, protesting, and persecuting.  While some of these actions may bring results.... they will not bring you peace.

To take the sting out of tragedy  - to find peace this chaotic messy world, don't turn towards your televisions,  your electronics, Facebook, social media, or the news.  You will not find peace there.  

To find peace - turn toward your family.  Spend some time with them "unplugged".... play board games, go ice skating, enjoy each others company. 

Turn toward Humanity - do something kind for someone.  Practice random acts of Kindness.  Reach out to someone in need.  Send love letters.  Donate blood, food or money.  Give of yourself.

Photo Credit: Sakis Koukouvis Scoopit.com

Turn toward your Higher Power.  Pray for the families who were affected by the tragedy.  Pray for humanity, and pray their fears subside.  Pray for acceptance. Pray for peace for yourself.  Give thanks for your wellbeing, family, friends and neighbors.

Turn toward your Inner Wisdom.  Sit still.... reflect... just BE.   Take some quiet time and reflect on all your blessings.  Burn a candle.  Practice Metta Bhavana - the meditation of Loving Kindness.   

Are there ways you have taken the sting out of a tragedy you would like to share?  

Paradise is Here, Paradise is Now.... Paradise is taking the sting out of tragedy.

 

The Buddha made me do it....

Forgive me blog readers, it has been 30 days since my last blog entry. 

Lame.

Anytime I would read a blog and read an apology in the first sentence about how the blogger is not keeping up with his or her blog, I would say to myself... "Lame."    Your readers don't know your blogging schedule.  Your readers don't know about your best intentions of writing in your blog every X amount of days.  They aren't expecting anything from you.  You aren't letting anyone down.  In fact, if you are lucky enough to have subscribers, they are probably just happy to see your blog update in their RSS feeders - so shut up already and just write about whatever popped into your pretty little head today.   Ya... that's what I say, and I expect you all to say it to me too.  There are no rules here. I'm not punching a clock.

So, I had a post pop into my pretty little head a few nights ago, and I stayed up way too late, with heavy eyelids, tip-tap-typing it out... just to have Blogger eat it.  Frustrated, I vented on Facebook, slammed my laptop cover shut and went to bed.


The post I had written was epic.  I was excited to capture with all my heart and soul this amazing experience I had at the Nagaloka Buddhist Center in Portland.  I attended their Introduction to Buddhism and Meditation class.  Just signing up and attending the class was HUGE for me.. it was something I had thought about for a long time.  I kept getting drawn to Google about Buddhism.. to read about it, to wonder about it.  Was it for me?  Why does this keep drawing my attention?

MyHoney and I have been having conversations about spirituality, the importance of it, the need of having it in our lives.  He is Catholic, I was raised Lutheran.  He is steadfast and comfortable in his faith - he has found a place he feels comfortable in.  While I appreciate and understand Catholicism and Lutheran doctrine, I don't feel at home in the church the same way MyHoney does.  But, it's where he "checks in" as he explains it.  He checks in with his values and beliefs, and checks in with himself.  He expressed to me how he would love it if I would attend Mass with him, because it would mean alot to him if I were there.  He wanted to "share" this with me.  I attended.  I fidgeted in the pew... I argued in my head with the Priest during his sermon.  I blocked out messages that were being read from the Scriptures.  Now, don't get me wrong... I am a spiritual person.  I believe in God.  I believe that Jesus was sent to redeem us and teach us the ultimate lesson of love and self sacrifice.  I buy in, I really do.... but in my own personal way.  

After Church, we went out to breakfast, and I expressed my unease with MyHoney, and told him I would attend Mass.. but I was attending for him.. not me.  His eyes lost their twinkle for a moment, his face went solemn, and he said he wished I felt differently.  He wished I felt what he felt when he attended.  He wanted it so badly... and truthfully, it made me upset.  I thought he wasn't accepting me.  I thought he was trying to "convert me"... the more I thought about it, the more I took it personally.  Truthfully, this set off one of the most turbulent "discussions" of our relationship history - and we ended up hurting each other.

I love MyHoney deeply.  I want to share my life with him.  I want to share his life.  This (what ever "this" is) means alot to him.  It's important.  Deeply important - a core value, a family value.

Conversations were had, misunderstandings were made - feelings got hurt, and we both let the topic go for a while.  But even though it was no longer brought up as a topic of conversation, I still had the heavy feeling on my heart that we were not in sync... we weren't aligned.  We are trying to build a life together - how can we move forward when we don't agree on something as important as our faith?

I found myself Googling meditation... that was what MyHoney got most from his attendance.  Maybe if I could just learn to meditate while at Church, my feelings of unease would go away.  Maybe I would understand what MyHoney gets out of the services.  That's when Nagaloka came up... that's when I signed up without hesitation.  I told MyHoney about it, and his eyes sparkled and he said he was excited for me. 

That Sunday finally came... and not to sound cliche, but it was the most beautiful Sunday I've seen in a long time.  It was unseasonably warm... Portland was buzzing with people heading out to get their coffee or heading to Back Bay to get in an early morning jog.  The air was soft and light, and as I walked down the sidewalk, I thought about my expectations for the day.  I decided to just keep an open mind, and let what ever lesson I was supposed to learn come to me by it's own nature.  Funny enough, I felt like I did when I went to college the first time... attending much later in life than everyone else.

I arrived and I was greeted by Dharmasutra, a lovely lady with kind eyes.  She introduced me to Narrotama, who would be leading the study for the day.  He reminded me of my instructor from New England Coaching, Bill.  I immediately felt at ease with him.  Surprisingly, I was the only female in the class.  The five of us sat in chairs in a circle, and Narrotama asked us to introduce ourselves, and to say what experience we had in meditation, and what we expected from the day.  As it came to my turn, I realized my introduction sounded a bit like a "One minute sales manager" speech straight from BNI, and after I said I was "Priscilla Hansen from Key Potential Coaching... I'm a coach who works with small business owners on gaining confidence in themselves and their business"... I stopped, looked at Narrotama, and said "my only experience with meditation was when my dog was sick... and I had to sit with her for 20 minutes every day as I administered sub-q fluids... and I would put my hand on her chest and focus on her breathing.  I miss that time I used to carve out in my day (even if it was for a sick dog).  I think Destiny wants me to be here so I can have it back again."

I don't know where that came from.  I didn't intend to talk about Destiny... I wasn't even really thinking about her.  The words just spilled out of my mouth.  I looked around the circle as my face flushed and my eyes watered, and felt a little embarrassed... until I saw the four men sitting and nodding in complete understanding.  Amazingly, what I had just told these total strangers, made total sense.  In those two minutes, I finally was given the answer to why I was drawn to Buddhism... as with everything else... it was my Destiny.

As the day went on, we learned about "Mindfulness of Breathing" ...  We sat down on mats, some knelt and supported themselves with pillows, and some sat like me - criss-cross-applesauce... and we were instructed to focus on our breath.  I had a hard time focusing on my breath... until I pictured my hand... on Lexi's chest as she sleeps --- rising up, down... up... down...  Peaceful isn't really an accurate enough word to use to describe how I felt.  I felt at ease.  My muscles loosened.  My thoughts of all the things I have to do, accomplish, achieve, and be... faded to the background for a while.  For a few minutes, it was just me, breathing...  and before I knew it, the bell chimed, and the 20 minute meditation was over.  As we all opened our eyes, and looked at each other, I realized we had a connected sharing, much like when you go see a movie in a theatre.   You could sit home and watch the movie alone... but there is something magical about watching it with dozens of other people... having the experience for yourself, with others.  That sense of collective community.  I suddenly had a strong longing.. a desire.. that MyHoney was there to share this with me.  I wish he was there and had sat beside me, and experienced this... for himself, with me.  At once, as if awoken from a dream, I understood. I got it. I get it. My place, my home, is in a pew, sitting next to him, as I experience this, myself, with him.... and I hope, (I know) he will in the future sit criss-cross-applesauce on a cushion next to me. With ease.

Paradise is Here, Paradise is Now... Paradise is connected, yet separate.