Another Look at Post Election Life

This well written look at post-election emotions is from my neighborhood Yoga Center where I have attended several classes. Click here to see Greatful Yoga's website in a new window.

Hello Michael,

It's been almost two weeks since the election, and my mind continues to search for stories that help me understand what is happening.  My yogic inclination is to look beyond surface appearances to the deeper dynamics at play, both in the world and in myself. 

I am reminded of the Buddhist concept of bardo, which originally referred to the "intermediate" state between death and rebirth.  The concept was extended to describe other transitional states, such as being born, living, dreaming, meditating, and dying.  In fact, everymoment can be seen as a bardo between past and future.  We are always on our way from one state to another.

Tibetan Buddhism developed a set of practices designed to prepare us for the bardo after death.  Unbound from our physical body, we have the potential to see the nature of reality and choose a favorable rebirth.  Metaphorically, we now have the same opportunity as a country and individuals.  Assumptions, expert opinions and behavioral norms are thrown into question.  The next formations have yet to arise.  We are floating in the space between incarnations.  

Francesca Fremantle elaborates (subscription required for the full text):

This gap is brought about by the intensity of emotional experience, which is always accompanied by an equal and opposite reaction, so that we are thrown into a situation of conflict and uncertainty. Two contrasting extremes are present simultaneously. Trungpa Rinpoche described it as being drenched with boiling hot and freezing cold water at the same time. At that very moment there is nothing to do but let go: give up trying to hold on to one extreme or the other, abandon the battle between life and death, good and bad, hope and fear. Then, in that instant of relaxation, there comes a sudden flash of realization. There is always the possibility that, in the midst of an everyday situation or at the height of some emotion, we may suddenly catch a glimpse of its essential emptiness and luminosity: a moment of sacred vision.

In order to take advantage of a bardo, we need to stay steady and clear. As Einstein observed, "We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them."  Our current bardo has been fed by a potent brew of alienation, misunderstanding and anger.  We will not navigate well if we stay intoxicated by these forces.

Our individual and collective actions have a bigger effect in the bardo.  Therefore, yoga and self-care are more vital than ever.  Not because they allow us to escape reality, but rather to develop the capacity to respond skillfully to what comes and make new choices.

At Grateful Yoga, we are renewing our commitment to offering practices that support a positive "rebirth".  Particularly, we want to strengthen and celebrate the remarkable community that we are.  So many of you are doing amazing, generous things with your time. If you'd like to share the nonprofit or world-changing work that you do, please drop us a line - we'll feature it in an upcoming newsletter.

As ever, and especially during this week of gratitude: THANK YOU for your continuing support and inspiration.

Namaste,

What Am I? Some Beginning Thoughts

This entry was also posted on  my Alzheimer's blog as it includes both general writing and Dementia/ Alzheimer's thoughts. 

I have been reading Dropping Ashes On The Buddha: The Teaching of Zen Master Seung Sahn. Through questions, dialogues, stories, interviews, and Darma speeches, he shares his knowledge of Buddhism.

In many of the writings, it is suggested that one meditate on "What am I?" as a way to finding the Buddha. While that sounds a little self serving, I did want to write about my thoughts on "what I am" in relation to what I have learned through my studies of Buddhism.

As I have mentioned in previous posts, I was born Jewish and have studied many religions but have never found as much "Peace of Mind" in any of them as I recently have found in my studies of Buddhism.

In my current situation with Gregory and our path with his Dementia/Alzheiemer's I desperately needed, and have gratefully found some Peace of Mind.

So here are some of my current thoughts on "What am I?"

What I Am?

I was me before I was named Michael by my parents.

I was me before I was born into a Jewish family, raised with Jewish traditions and beliefs, had my Bar-Mitzvah.

I was me before I went through the usual sequence of schooling: Primary, Secondary, College, Post Graduate Work, Workshops, Seminars, Training Sessions, Textual Readings.

I was me before I was told what and how to think by my parents, relatives, neighbors, friends, teachers, religious leaders, books, newspapers, films, TV, and the general world around me.

For that matter I was me before I learned anything; while I lie in my diapers, wet or otherwise, suckled my mother's tit and then the rubber nipple, slowly ate pureed foods and then moved on to solids.

I was me before I realized I had a civilization, a culture, and a full background of experiences on which to base my thoughts, understandings, feelings, emotions, etc.

I was me before I had language to label, classify, and categorize things and definitely before I had likes and dislikes, rights and wrongs, happys and sads, successes and failures.

I was me before I realized the difference between male and female, before realizing I was a male, a gay male at that who had deep feelings for other men; comradely feelings, sexual feelings, love feelings.

I was me before I considered myself an educator, a poet, a writer, a photographer, a bookbinder, an actor, an artist, and more.

So if I am not able to use any of this information to tell you "Who I am" then who am I? Lets use the concept of "emptiness." If I am just who I am without using any of the "baggage" I have come to accept about myself; through what I have heard, through what I have been told, through what I have experienced, through what I have learned; then I am just who I am.

I can be empty, without any judgement of myself and my life. I can create how and with what I want to fill myself, as long as I hold on to the idea that "in the beginning" there was this baby born into this world, and he was pure, and his was truth, and he was in touch with all he needed to know. That is who I am!

Let me move to the next level of my thinking.

I sit here and I see. It is as if I live in this body and my eyes are the window to my world. It is as if I sit at a console with a screen in front of me which is attached to a camera and I monitor the world in front of me, and around me as I rotate the camera.

I see a green coffee mug with steaming, delicious liquid in front of me and I raise it to my lips, take a careful not to burn my tongue sip, and place it gingerly back down on its coaster so as not to leave a ring on the console.

But if I take myself back to my pre-labeling, classifying, and categorizing self where am I? What am I doing? How do I describe it? How do I think about it? Do I assign good or bad to it, happy or sad to it, right or wrong to it? 

Or is it just what it is? I see what I see. I see.

Each night I read a little more of Dropping Ashes On The Buddha. Perhaps it is slowly affecting my thinking. As I was drifting off to sleep, my kitty at my side, I was stroking her fur thinking how soft she is. I realized I had labeled her "kitty" and her "fur" and described the feeling as "soft." 

So then I tried to just feel her without adding any descriptors, with keeping my mind empty, and I seemed to experience her in a totally new, and different way than I ever had. With no words to get in the way, although I use them now, "softness" seemed a whole new experience for me. I was amazed.

Let me move to some changes I have been able to make in my thinking based on my new awareness of who I am.

Lately I have been thinking a lot about Gregory and his situation. While Lieberman does a pretty wonderful job of taking care of the residents on Gregory's unit, there is so much more they could be doing. 

Much of the "strum und drang" of the unit could be alleviated by what to me, seem simple, easy to accomplish measures. In short, my erroneous belief that I could run the place better than the mass of trained professionals that currently do run it, it getting in my way!

"Storm and Stress" is the English translation of Strum und Drang,  a German literary movement that emphasized the volatile emotional life of the individual. And at times life on the Special Memory Care Unit at Lieberman does reflect the volatile emotional life of all of the individuals involved: residents, staff, administration, and family.

So I have been lying awake at night, going over what I think and what I would say to make change at Lieberman. No need to say I have been loosing precious hours of sleep and working myself into a tizzy.

Then I think of Gregory in particular. He is content, happy, well taken care of. Besides the excellent parts of life and staff at Lieberman, he has Manny and Halina to care for him from 11:30-5:30. 

He has me to visit almost every day with love overflowing as well as flowers, chocolate, and other treats. 

He has his Midwest Palliative Hospice Care nurse, social worker, Rabbi, music therapist, massage therapist to keep an extra eye on him.

I think that in some ways, my thoughts about making Gregory's life at Lieberman (as well as helping the other residents on the unit) are more about trying to bring back the pre-Dementia/ Alzheimer's Gregory and making all the changes and difficulties of being on that path go away. But that is fantasy, isn't it?

So here comes my growth through Buddhism: Perhaps I should back off from feeling that I can make major changes in the life at Lieberman's Memory Care Unit.

If I feel sad about his situation, it is sad. If I am worried, it is worrisome. If I allow the "down side" to make me unhappy, I am unhappy. If I focus on what is bad, that is all I see and I loose the joy of what is good. If I see it as suffering, I suffer.

But If I am grateful and happy, that is how I feel. If I look closely and realize that for the most part Gregory is doing well in his environment, then I feel good also.

It turns out that my unhappiness is of no use to Gregory. My unhappiness does not make Gregory any happier. In some ways he probably can detect that I am unhappy and that has a negative effect on him. If I am happy he can feel that. 

A lesson here is that Gregory just is ... and in some ways that is more in touch with reality than I am.

Notice your innermost feelings when you think of a very sad situation and then switch to a very happy situation and put a smile on your face. It feels different doesn't it? It is very hard to feel unhappy if you put a smile on your face and feel happy. At least I find it works for me.

I guess you could put a smile on your face and at the same time tell yourself you are feeling sad and unhappy but why cancel out the good effect of a smile when you don't have to!

I guess this is when people talk about choosing to be happy or sad under any conditions, no matter how difficult. I think that if you look hard enough you can find a little ray of sunshine even behind the darkest clouds. Trite saying but true!

So back to What Am I? If I am able to not label things in my life as good or bad, happy or sad. If I see them just as things without positive or negative value, if I can avoid labeling, if I can avoid judging, then suffering can be defused. It can cease to exist. And what does exist is just existence.

Life is what it is. I am what I am. There is an emptiness involved when you do not have to fill up your life, your person; with descriptors, with qualifiers, with judgments, with labels, with rights and wrongs, with goods and bad.

It is what it is. It is how you choose to live it.

Part 1: What is in a fall day?

Fall carries with it for most of us such feelings, emotions, senses so as to enrich the eventual coming of winter. For many it is a favorite time of year with its smells of leaf decay, feel of chill in the air, sight of colors all bounded by russet, sound of leaves crunching and thrashing underfoot.

To see piles of leaves as tall as I am, piled in the street waiting to be vacuumed up by large trucks the city sends around overwhelms me. As a child we used to play in these piles, popping out to scare and pretend fright. A carefully collected assortment of reds, oranges, yellows and still greens would be pressed into the dictionary or arranged on the dining room table by a supportive, nurturing mother.

Then there would be that acrid, sweet, memory filled smell of leaves burning at the curb now outlawed because of pollution. But what wonderful pollution it was. A bonfire to celebrate your efforts at gathering the seasons discard, only to regather again in a few days or the next weekend.

You can still get a peek at this memory now and then when you are driving in the country past a farm where a burn is burning, apparently still allowed. I always stop the car, roll down the windows, inhale, and exhaleingly sigh.

Always a great time in the fall, during the autumn, is taking a walk in the forest preserve down a path covered almost to disappearing with the effects of the season as the colors of the leaves remaining on the trees disappear into a vanishing point far away. Sometimes over dressed, sometimes chilled and underdressed with the unpredictability of the season we would find a fallen tree to perch on and amaze at the wonder.

Then there are the Jewish holidays celebrated during the fall: Rosh Hashanah (a solemn holiday beginning the calendar year with repentance from sin and the hope of renewal,) Yom Kippur (a fast day of prayer and collective confession,) Sukkot (a holiday to celebrate the harvest and move into a temporary hut in the back yard,) Simchas Torah (a holiday to celebrate finishing the reading of the Torah scroll for the year and starting it over again to symbolize the never ending nature of Jewish law.) 

Trips to the apple orchard, some two or three hours outside the city, were and still are always a festive event. Never went to pick them off the trees as many do but rather to walk through the chilly barns with bushel basket after bushel basket and box after box of every type of apple you never realized existed.

There is something romantic about those one handled bags in which you would fill your selection to purchase. One price for a filled smaller bag, another price for the larger filled bag. At the place we go you could sample any apple you wanted until your tummy growled. There was also freshly pressed apple juice to sample in cups that were too small and necessitated a refill.

Candy, candy, candy at Halloween is a good way to continue the season. Costumes and Trick or Treat and parties and candy by going from door to door to beg for more. "Trick or Treat, Money or Eats," we would chant as kids. Costumes and parties as we grew older took over the trick or treat but we would always squeeze in a few requests on the way to our party.

Now as adults, we buy candy to pass out to those who frequent our doors but more importantly, I think, is that we can buy our own candy, our favorites, and fill our own bowl without having to beg or trip over the hems of our costumes. We can snatch a piece or two whenever we want.

Memories. Ah memories. Fall. Autumn. And we have only gotten to the end of October. In another post, I will reminisce about what is in a fall November day. 

Talking

Talking about can be the process leading to "having it all thought out" which probably will never happen. (Also writing.)

This Doesn't Affect Me ... Or Does it?

When I saw this headline my first reaction was that it didn't affect me personally.

14-Year-Old Evanston Boy Shot

and Killed Saturday Night

The more I thought about it, the more disturbed I became with my thinking. So by committing this to writing, perhaps I can be more aware and continue to work on my personal behaviors / thoughts, global awareness, connectedness to all living things, and good works - not just good talk.

My thoughts on seeing the news about Dajae Coleman's death were that it doesn't affect me because: 1) I am not a teenager. 2) He was not my child. 3) He was not related to me. 4) I am not black. 5) I do not walk around Evanston too late at night. 5) He was probably part of a gang. 6) I don't wan't to think that this could go on in Evanston.

The last thought is what got me to thinking seriously about the others. Why not Evanston? While it is a little safer than some other neighborhoods in Chicago or the U.S. for that matter, these things do happen everywhere in the world. And they shouldn't! I am not sure how or if this will ever turn or be turned around. Is it the parent's fault that one teen will shoot another or for that matter one adult, another? Is it the desperation that people feel? Is it the absence of gun laws? Is it the presence of guns? Does it stem from watching cartoons and playing video games in which murdered people get up again for the next round of play?

Is one person able to take the life of another because they feel that "This won't affect me?" So while I would not ever take someone's life, most likely not even under threat to self or others, perhaps my thoughts are just as bad as those who think that it is OK to hurt others! I will change those thoughts.

http://www.suntimes.com/news/15331298-418/14-year-old-boy-shot-dead-in-evanston.html

Thought of the Day

Driving past a skunk (RIP) that I had seen two days before and that had been run over a number of times since:


"Dead skunk smells like coffee after a few days."