Monthly Archives: July 2018

All In Good Time

There are times to cultivate and create, when you nurture your world and give birth to new ideas and ventures.  There are times of flourishing and abundance, when life feels in full bloom, energized and expanding.  And there are times of fruition, when things come to an end.  They have reached their climax and must be harvested before they begin to fade.  And finally of course, there are times that are cold, and cutting and empty, times when the spring of new beginnings seems like a distant dream.  Those rhythms in life are natural events.  They weave into one another as day follows night, bringing not messages of hope and fear, but messages of how things are.

Chogyam Trunpa

***

To everything – turn, turn, turn
There is a season – turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones
A time to gather stones together

A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracing

To everything – turn, turn, turn
There is a season – turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time to love, a time to hate
A time of peace, I swear it’s not too late!

Pete Seeger, from Ecclesiastes

***

These eight worldly conditions, O monks, keep the world turning around, and the world turns around these eight worldly conditions.  What eight?  Gain and loss, fame and disrepute, praise and blame, pleasure and pain. 

These eight worldly conditions, monks, are encountered by an uninstructed worldling, and they are also encountered by an instructed noble disciple …

When an instructed noble disciple comes upon gain, he reflects on it thus: “This gain that has come to me is impermanent, bound up with suffering, subject to change.” And so he will reflect when loss and so forth come upon him.  He understands all these things as they really are, and they do not engross his mind.  Thus he will not be elated by gain or dejected by loss; elated by fame or dejected by disrepute; elated by praise or dejected by blame; elated by pleasure or dejected by pain …

Loss and gain, fame and disrepute, praise and blame, pleasure and pain: these things are transient in human life, inconstant and bound to change.  The mindful wise one discerns them well.

The Buddha

***

Smart guys
Not their first rodeo

Mamma Mia

I want my writing to be “good”, so that my thoughts will reach people.  Usually that’s what I want.  Tonight I don’t care.  I have a simple message:

Go see Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again

I cried.  I sang along.  I applauded at the end.  Truly one of the finest movies I’ve ever seen.  Naturally I’m biased.  Your take may be different.  So what?  Go see it.

What do I say without spoiling it for you?  I don’t know, but I’ll give ‘er a go.  We long for friendship … it’s here.  We long for community … it’s here.  We long for romantic love … it’s here.

The biggest smiles, the deepest sadnesses and the most profound joys.  A few moments that I will play over and over again once I get the Blu-ray.  Moments that stop the world and break the heart wide open.

Good writing tells me to be specific.  Paint the emotional scenes with great detail.  Well, sorry – not tonight.  You’ll just have to trust me on this.

We get to see folks who are young adults, and then decades later.  The souls still shine.

We get to hear the blessed Abba songs that weave into the lives of this story.

We get to celebrate the ecstasy, tenderness and sorrows of life because they’re onscreen, right in front of our noses.

Chiquitita, you and I know
How the heartaches come and they go
And the scars they’re leaving
You’ll be dancing once again
And the pain will end
You will have no time for grieving
Chiquitita, you and I cry
But the sun is still in the sky
And shining above you
Let me hear you sing once more
Like you did before
Sing a new song, Chiquitita

Unknown

All the stars, planets and galaxies that can be seen today make up just 4% of the universe.  The other 96% is made of stuff astronomers can’t see, detect or even comprehend.

These mysterious substances are called dark energy and dark matter.  Astronomers infer their existence based on their gravitational influence on what little bits of the universe can be seen, but dark matter and energy themselves continue to elude all detection.

“The overwhelming majority of the universe is: Who knows?” explains science writer Richard Panek, who spoke about these oddities of our universe on Monday at the Graduate Center of the City University of New York (CUNY) here in Manhattan.  “It’s unknown for now, and possibly forever.”

Clara Moskowitz

***

We have an enormous amount still yet to discover and understand.  For instance, science now knows that 96% of the known universe is invisible.  It’s called dark matter and dark energy, and it’s called “dark” because you can’t see it.  But here we are, in the 4% that’s visible, and I say to people: If we’re going to make materialism our life path, we’re essentially giving our lives over to the 4% solution.  Because the 96%, the invisible part, we’re just completely ignoring.

Duane Elgin

***

Reports that say that something hasn’t happened are always interesting to me, because as we know, there are known knowns.  There are things we know we know.  We also know there are known unknowns, that is to say we know there are some things we do not know.  But there are also unknown unknowns – the ones we don’t know we don’t know.  And if one looks throughout the history of our country and other free countries, it is the latter category that tend to be the difficult ones.

Donald Rumsfeld, former United States Secretary of Defense

***

Difficult indeed.  And if Duane is right, and we can legitimately move from the physical universe to how we lead our lives, what now?  How do I do, feel and think on this planet if immense mystery surrounds us?  Do I swan dive off the solid cliff into the mists below or do I hunker down in my all-inclusive?

The task of letting go seems monumental.  Maybe I can start exercising my 96% muscle by simply doing one thing in a new way.

I get together several times a week with the online global community of the Evolutionary Collective.  For the latter part of our hour, we can share in the large group.  You simply click on the “Raise Hand” button.  Tomorrow, when the time comes, I’ll click even if I have no idea what to say.  That’s a start.

***

Love is always a leap into the unknown.  You can try to control as many variables, and understand a situation as you can, but you’re still jumping off a cliff and hoping that someone catches you.

Lisa Kleypas

 

Who Is It That I Say I Am?

Who is this Bruce, anyway?

Conventional wisdom points to what I’ve done, what I’ve said … an accumulation of the past.  Sounds logical.  Perhaps, though, I can choose to move beyond reason.  Could it be that hidden beneath “unreasonable” things, the truth abides?

Maybe “Bruce” is fresh at every moment, a flow leaning into the future.  Nothing to do with my mistakes, insensitivities and misadventures – all stuff that’s dead because it’s in the past.  Beyond the reality that society honours, I could simply be a spiritual presence, moving in love.

What if a thousand people said to me “Don’t be silly.  You are your history, your body, your ideas, your joys and sorrows, your relationships, your home … the sum of your life experiences.  There is nothing else!  Grow up and march to the music.”

And what if I said:

No

I seek companions on this journey and I believe I’ve found one.  Her name is Beatrice Bruteau.

The emotional personality may feel like life to us.  The life story that is called by our name may seem to be our only way of conceptualizing our life.  That is why it seems that we would be losing our life if we were to give up identifying ourselves in these ways.

[The word “metanoia” means “a transformation of the heart”]

Metanoia is a shift in our sense of where our selfhood is located, from the dead periphery of the personality description to the living core of transcendent and creative freedom.  The metanoia is said to be like dying and being reborn.  It is a shift in our sense of real being, our sense of being alive, from the emotional personality to the transcendent spirit … By seeming to die, we release ourselves from identification with the dead, and by realizing ourselves as transcendent persons, we establish ourselves in true life and can begin to do divine things.

Airy fairy … dumb … pie in the sky … true … ridiculous … infantile … lost marbles

***

Is the pull of the past so strong that brand new things can’t enter the world?
Is the pull of collective opinion so overwhelming that anything else is rejected?
Am I strong enough to stand with Beatrice?
What could happen if I did?

 

Visibly Lacking

I’m taking an online course with souls from all over the world. We meet live as many as five times a week. It’s astounding to see all those faces on my computer screen.

Today, just before we were to be paired up for a practice exercise, the leader gave some instructions. I didn’t understand them, but then – Poof! … there I was facing another human being.

An image came to me of a male elementary teacher. He was standing in front of me with a yardstick in his hand, ready to smack my fingers. A voice roared: “You did it wrong!”

Later I decided to share with the large group about what I had gone through. The leader was coaching me to stay with my experience, without conceptualizing or telling a story. As I struggled to find what was true for me, I felt myself dying again: “You’re no good. You’re too afraid of the teacher’s disapproval. All these people are watching.” And I shrunk.

The teacher kept trying to bring me back out but I fell deeper into the hole. I was grinding through the moment – so different than talking about a previous grinding moment. “I’m so embarrassed.”

Bruce was disappearing, and not in a transcendent way. It wasn’t a case of losing something and finding something sweeter. Of saying goodbye to the ego and then rising into rarefied air. No. I was just plain lost.

***

So, Bruce, what’s true?

At times, I struggle to stay with what I’m experiencing
At times, I get scared so easily
At times, I shrink under the eyes of others
At times, I wallow in seeing myself as “less than”

But you know, Bruce, something else is true
You’re willing to be visible

Through the warts
Through the fear
Through the not knowing
Through the public viewing
Through the words stumbling out
Through the heart sinking to the floor
Through the desires for approval
Through the not making sense
Through the “wrong answers”
Through the tightness in the throat
Through the blushing
Through the pain

***

I’ll take it

The Danforth

I’m sitting in a coffee shop on Danforth Avenue in Toronto. Four hours ago I was having breakfast at the New Sarum Diner, near my home in Belmont, Ontario. I had just been joking with the server that I should have one of their real and delicious milkshakes, made with ancient equipment and metal tumblers, sort of a breakie dessert. And … I actually had a vanilla one. So good!

I was pleased with myself as the tall glass emptied. Just sat back and sighed. And then my eyes widened and the voice came through crystal clearly:

Go to the Danforth

Toronto is two hours from home. Sunday evening a young man took out a handgun and started shooting people on Danforth Avenue. A girl and a woman died. Thirteen others were injured. It’s Toronto’s second mass shooting in four months. Horrifying.

I’m at a counter by the window, watching traffic crawl by. Across the street is the Second Cup, where the gunman fired shots. The place looks so placid and normal right now. Couples walk by smiling. The terror is long gone … except in people’s hearts.

Why am I here? I don’t know. I could feel the pull from New Sarum.

It’s time to walk again. I wonder what I’ll find – on the street and in my soul.

***

Now I’m sitting on a bench steps away from where the shooter killed himself, surrounded by police officers. Above me, on the brown bricks of the Danforth Church, stretches a rainbow banner simply saying “PEACE”. Perhaps not such a simple thing to keep alive in the world. But then again, that’s up to us.

I search for the Demetres restaurant, where Julianna, 10-years-old, died. Why can’t I find it? Finally Google tells me to cross the street. Behind a large truck sits a building, its name covered with a green tarp. In front is an arc of flowers and candles, accompanied by chalk messages on the sidewalk. About ten of us stop to think of Julianna.

There’s a message on the glass door, written in white marker: “How many times have we walked through this door on a warm summer night like any other?” And another on the window: “Julianna – gone but never forgotten. Rest in peace, baby girl.” The tears come.

On the sidewalk, a chalked message says what I need to hear: “Love abounds.” An hour later, after a lengthy cloudburst, I walk by Demetres again. The love is longer visible but it’s there.

At the parkette near Danforth and Logan, a large fountain is embraced with flowers and messages. This is where 18-year-old Reese was shot and killed. “Dear beautiful Reese. You were brave. You will always be in our hearts.” Yes. Onlookers like me snap photos and go deep inside to grieve. I sit on a curved stone bench, perhaps in the very spot where Reese was chatting with her friends.

***

What now, Bruce?

Cast no one out of your heart
See the beauty of all who approach
Give them what they need

Being Fred … Being Me … Being You

Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood was a popular children’s TV show in the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s. I never saw it. But here I sit in the Hyland Cinema, waiting for a documentary on Fred Rogers to start. It’s called Won’t You Be My Neighbor? Apparently he was a kind soul and many kids “got” him. I like to think the same is true of me.

One of my favourite quotes, author unknown:

I won’t remember what you said
I won’t remember what you did
But I’ll always remember how I felt when I was around you

Bring it on, Fred!

***

My eyes widen as Fred’s story unfurls. How am I going to remember all the juicy quotes? And then I felt my pocket. I had a few index cards in there for making notes when I read books. I whipped out my pen and scrawled in the darkness. Here’s what Fred had to say:

People who have smiled you into smiling
Hugged you into hugging
Loved you into loving

Find me one person who, whether they know it or not, doesn’t need this

Kids need adults who will protect them
From the molders of this world

How tempting it is to make children in the image of ourselves
While they desperately need to be uniquely themselves
An original in the world

(While holding eyes with a handicapped girl, and extending a puppet to her)
Would you like to see Barney the Owl?

We so much need that precious contact
The sense of being truly held and acknowledged

I’ve always weighed 143 pounds – “I (1) love (4) you (3)”

What forces are at work on the planet
Far beyond the reasonableness of coincidence?

(Fred as a puppet)
I’m not like anyone else

(His friend, a girl)
I know
You are just fine as you are
You’re not a fake
You’re no mistake

So wise, this Mister Rogers, knowing what’s in the hearts of kids
And expressing the truth about them in a way that they can hear

What is essential in life is invisible to the eye

Fred planted this seed, first in his mind, and then in his actions with children
In some kids, the seed will transform into wisdom, many years later

(Talking to a young boy in a wheelchair)
I’m glad to see you
It’s you I like
Every part of you

Dear adult:
Please see me
Not my report card
Not my gold medals (or lack thereof)
Not what I look like

Let’s make goodness attractive

Why not? There are other ways to be an adult
Ways not usually featured on the nightly news
Let’s show ourselves to kids
In all our happiness and sadness
In our kindness and compassion

(Speaking to the U.S. Congress in defense of public television)
This is a plea not to leave the children isolated

Kids need the presence of fully alive human beings
They watch us like hawks
Trying to figure out how to lead their lives
Let’s give them some good examples

Don’t listen to those who try to make you feel less than you really are

There are other voices
Keep your ears peeled
You will hear them

(Fred as a puppet, and many decades ago as a kid)
I can’t go to school tomorrow
Because I don’t know everything

Fred Rogers knew children because he never lost touch with being one
I’m not Fred
I’m Bruce
And you’re you
May we all listen to the young souls around us

A or B?

Unity – the state of being made one; a condition of harmony

Separation – a break; a place where a split happens; an intervening space

Awakening – an act or moment of becoming suddenly aware of something

Dormancy – something that is not active or growing

Intrinsic – belonging naturally; essential

Extrinsic – not part of the essential nature of someone or something; coming or operating from outside

Mutual – feeling the same emotion, or doing the same thing to or for each other

Unilateral – (of an action or decision) performed by or affecting only one person involved in a situation, without the agreement of the other

Emergence – the fact of something becoming known or starting to exist

Stagnation – the state of not flowing or moving

Contact – the act of touching each other

Avoidance – the act of keeping away from

Resonant – something with a deep tone or a powerful, lasting effect

Muted – not expressed strongly or openly; (of a musical instrument) having a muffled sound as a result of being fitted with a mute

Transcendent – describing the rising above something to a superior state

Mundane – very ordinary and therefore not interesting

Include – to make part of a whole

Exclude – to shut or keep out

Love – an intense feeling of deep affection

Apathy – lack of interest, enthusiasm or concern

Allowing It to Emerge

I’m in a global community called the Evolutionary Collective.  All told, there are probably two hundred of us exploring consciousness within a structure created by Patricia Albere.  Fifteen souls were on a live video call this afternoon.

Part of the experience is in pairs, with eyes open and connected.  For ten minutes, one person answers the question “What are you experiencing right now?” while the other silently moves her consciousness inside the speaker.  Then the two switch roles for the second ten.  During the third segment, the partners talk back and forth, responding to “What are we experiencing right now?”

It’s a mysterious process.  It’s easy to rattle on about concepts and ideas, feelings and bodily sensations, but Patricia is pointing elsewhere.  I was with “Mary” today and here’s where I went for my ten minutes:

I’m experiencing a lake, perfectly smooth.  I’m swimming with my head up – it’s the breast stroke – and you’re beside me doing the same.  Our motions are so smooth, so effortless, and we smile at each other.  Ahead is the horizon.  It’s a simple line between sky and water.  There’s no land.  I look around and see the same horizon everywhere.  I don’t know where we are but there’s a great sense of ease, of safety.

And now I’m diving, my hands touching ahead of me … down and down into the dark.  Hundreds of fish, of all shapes and hues, come to say hi.  They dive with me, with little smiles on their faces.  The water is cool and lovely and I can breathe easily.

Soon all is black and I continue to descend.  No fear.  Just a sweet sinking towards I know not what.  And now I’m experiencing a light way down below and I’m excited to see what’s there.  As I near the ocean floor, there it sits – a tiny gold ring.  Magically, I move my hands and arms and head through it and it settles around my waist.

I’m so happy to have found a golden friend.  Yes, the ring is alive.  It holds me gently on my stomach and back, just a tender pressure that’s so comforting.  I gaze down in wonder at the glowing and pulsing entity encircling my waist.

“Who are you?” I ask.

No words come back but the ring smiles just a bit and holds me some more, a touch firmer now.

***

Mary and I don’t analyze.  There’s no figuring out.  No evaluating.  Just the sense of something opening, inviting us to explore.  And we’ll continue to do that.

 

Meditating

I did so for a long time this afternoon.  I sit in my cozy turquoise chair in the bedroom and gaze out at the field beyond.  Then I close my eyes.  On my better days, worlds open.

Today, I started with lots of thoughts coming through – about the British Open golf tournament I’d just watched, about the Mutual Awakening global community I’m a part of, about my swollen left foot.  I’ve learned to watch it all without further editorial comment, and usually I’m successful there.

After maybe half an hour, a sweet curtain came over me and all the words receded to the back forty.  A type of fullness came over my face, the sense of there being a huge space around me.  Somehow I was watching and wondering at the absence of thoughts.  It was so quiet.

Today, saliva started dripping from the corner of my mouth and I just sat there with the dribble, having no desire to wipe it away.  The liquid was just a natural part of the sitting, easily included in the whole experience.

Later, there was some humming noise nearby.  And eventually a thought did come: “That’s my neighbour’s generator.”  One thought led to many more and I wondered if I was in the middle of a power failure.  There was no sense of being disturbed by the sound.  I opened my eyes, tried my lights (they worked), put on my shoes and went next door.  Sharon and John’s generator simply does a test for fifteen minutes every week.  No sweat.  Back home, back in my chair, eyes closing and peace returning within a short time.  Goodbye again, dear thoughts.

An hour or so later, my eyes just opened.  No planning.  I sat there, watching the birds flit to and fro on my young tree.  Everything was lovely and I wondered if I could reach this space when talking with someone.  I think I can, and in fact I sometimes do when I’m on one of the online Mutual Awakening sessions with folks from here, there and everywhere.

My quiet times are influencing my times with people.  The solitary softness melts into the conversations I have.  And the connections go deep.

Alone and together … I need them both.