Category Archives: Uncategorized

Mohini and Me

Mohini was a regal white tiger who lived for many years at the Washington, D.C. National Zoo.  For most of those years, her home was in the old lion house – a typical twelve-by-twelve-foot cage with iron bars and a cement floor.  Mohini spent her days pacing restlessly back and forth in her cramped quarters.  Eventually, biologists and staff worked together to create a natural habitat for her.  Covering several acres, it had hills, trees, a pond and a variety of vegetation.  With excitement and anticipation, they released Mohini into her new and expansive environment.  But it was too late.  The tiger immediately sought refuge in a corner of the compound, where she lived for the remainder of her life.  Mohini paced and paced in that corner until an area twelve-by-twelve feet was worn bare of grass.

Aren’t we all regal?  But usually we don’t see the truth about ourselves and others.  We see but a tiny part of the whole being – the surface part.  Too often we believe that our environment – all that is outside of our skin – causes who we are.  There seems to be a 12 x 12 cage hemming us in.  For me, in my worst moments, it’s more like a full length cardboard box has been dropped over my head.  I can’t move.  I certainly can’t dance.  And the fiction I create is that someone else, or something else, has covered me.  Truthfully, I am the dropper.  And so I pace.

When someone like the Dalai Lama, or Gina Sharpe, or Jiddu Krishnamurti, points to a vastness beyond my past experience, I’ve opened my eyes only a bit.  A glimpse here and there of something big, and then I fall back into my old ways.  But life seems to be a spiral, and the opportunity for future opening comes around again and again.  And so I emerge.

What are the moments that have drawn me to the hills and forests of life?

1.  Letting myself wander into Queen Elizabeth Park in Vancouver after witnessing an evening performance of “Jesus Christ Superstar” in an old stone church.  Sitting under a tree, rocking back and forth for an hour or more, singing the title song

2.  Sitting at the back of the meditation hall, listening to Gina Sharpe speak, and feeling her love fill the room

3.  On an outdoor education trip in the Alberta wilderness, warming up a member of our small group, helping her back from the edge of hypothermia

4.  Singing “For You” to my lovely wife Jodiette, and playing my guitar, as she lies in bed

5.  Sitting with a Grade 6 girl on the school playground, holding my hand over a deep cut on her calf, waiting for medical help to arrive

6.  Holding a young man as an epileptic seizure rocks through him, making sure he doesn’t hit his head

7.  Dressing up as Santa Claus for the kids at the hospital, ho-ho-hoing as countless young humans take turns sitting on my lap

8.  Standing at the prow of the M.V. Lady Rose on the way from Port Alberni, BC, out to Bamfield on the Pacific shore, letting the waves crash over me

9.  Touching my rock in Barre, Massachusetts, feeling the pain of All Beings Everywhere and giving them my love

 ***

Hello, Mohini.  Please come with me.  The big wide world beckons us both

A Course in Miracles

This work was published in 1976. An “inner voice” dictated the content to a psychologist named Helen Schucman.  Although it’s Christian in tone, many have said that the Course points toward universal wisdom.  I’ll let you be the judge of that.

Here are some quotes:

I am responsible for what I see
I choose the feelings I experience
And I decide upon the goal I would achieve
And everything that seems to happen to me
I ask for and receive as I have asked

Nothing real can be threatened
Nothing unreal exists
Herein lies the peace of God

I rule my mind, which I alone must rule
At times, it does not seem I am its king at all
It seems to triumph over me
And tell me what to think
And what to do and feel
And yet it has been given me to serve
Whatever purpose I perceive in it
My mind can only serve
Today I give its service to the Holy Spirit
To employ as He sees fit
I thus direct my mind
Which I alone can rule
And thus I set it free
To do the will of God

There is no more self-contradictory concept
Than that of “idle thoughts”
What gives rise to the perception of a whole world
Can hardly be called idle
Every thought you have
Contributes to truth or to illusion
Either it extends the truth
Or it multiplies illusions

What would you see?
The choice is given you
But learn and do not let your mind
Forget this law of seeing
You will look upon that which you feel within
If hatred finds a place within your heart
You will perceive a fearful world
Held cruelly in death’s sharp-pointed bony fingers
If you feel the Love of God within you
You will look out on a world of mercy and of love

Reality brings only perfect peace
When I am upset
It is always because I have replaced reality
With illusions I made up

The world that seems to hold you prisoner
Can be escaped by anyone
Who does not hold it dear

When you have learned to look on everyone
With no reference at all to the past
Either his or yours as you perceive it
You will be able to learn from what you see now

Seek not outside yourself
The search implies you are not whole within

It is your thoughts alone
That cause you pain
Nothing external to your mind
Can hurt or injure you in any way
There is no cause beyond yourself
That can reach down and bring oppression
No one but yourself affects you
There is nothing in the world
That has the power to make you ill or sad
Or weak or frail
But it is you who have the power
To dominate all things you see
By merely recognizing what you are

Only your mind can produce fear

You will fear what you attack

No one who loves can judge
And what he sees is free of condemnation

The real world is attained simply
By the complete forgiveness of the old

Teach only love
For that is what you are

When you meet anyone
Remember it is a holy encounter
As you see him you will see yourself
As you treat him you will treat yourself
As you think of him you will think of yourself

Is it an evil to be punished or a mistake to be corrected?

You heal a brother by recognizing his worth

You cannot know your own perfection
Until you have honored
All those who were created like you

There is no journey
But only an awakening

Your task is not to seek for love
But merely to seek and find
All of the barriers within yourself
That you have built against it

With love in you
You have no need except to extend it

Remember that you came
To bring the peace of God into the world

Why wait for Heaven?
Those who seek the light
Are merely covering their eyes
The light is in them now
Enlightenment is but a recognition
Not a change at all

Simply do this:
Be still, and lay aside all thoughts
Of what you are and what God is
All concepts you have learned about the world
All images you hold about yourself
Empty your mind of everything
It thinks is either true or false
Or good or bad
Of every thought it judges worthy
And all the ideas of which it is ashamed
Hold onto nothing
Do not bring with you one thought
The past has taught, nor one belief
You ever learned before from anything
Forget this world
Forget this course
And come with wholly empty hands unto your God

Just Folks

Two guys, one Canadian and one Tibetan.  Both well known in their fields.  Both just like you and me.  Both kind.

I read in the London Free Press this morning about George Canyon, a country singer from High River, Alberta.  London has one of its big annual events on right now – the Western Fair.  George was supposed to sing outdoors last night but the heavens opened up and the show was cancelled.  Many fans had been waiting in the rain for George to begin.

Fair organizers then set up a session for George and his fans at a comedy club in one of the fair buildings.  He would shake hands with a few people, for a few minutes.  And then bye bye.  Except the officials didn’t really get what type of person George was.

Mr. Canyon picked up his guitar and started playing for the wet but drying out faithful.  He took requests.  He chatted at length with the crowd.  “After about 20 songs, Canyon put the guitar down and stayed until he met everyone who wanted to have their picture taken with him, or an autograph.”

***

Years ago, the Dalai Lama was staying at a San Francisco hotel while he participated in a conference.  On the day he was leaving, he asked the manager to have all the on-duty employees gather in the hotel parking lot.

“The Dalai Lama walked down the line, greeting each person, smiling, looking in their eyes, thanking them for their service.  Many people wept.  Many looked at him completely enraptured.  At no time did I get the impression that his attention was wandering or that he would rather have been somewhere else.  Without exception, he was fully attentive to each person as he met them.  The effect of this wholehearted presence was remarkable.”

 ***

There’s nothing I can think of to add
Our actions say it all

 

Content Analysis

When I was in teacher training, one of our profs asked us to look at scholarly articles and see if there were certain words that showed up a lot, and whether examining all those words which were frequently used created a context for the writing.  Was the atmosphere of the writing suffused with love, deficiency, joy, comparison, openness, division or any other ways of being?

Take this paragraph, for instance:

Daily training in aikido allows your inner divinity to shine brighter and brighter.  Keep the mind bright and clear as the endless sky, the deepest ocean, and the highest mountain.  Do not be calculating or act unnaturally.  Keep your mind set on the way of harmony, and do not criticize other teachers or traditions.   Aikido never restrains, restricts or shackles anything.  It embraces all and purifies everything.

I want to live with these verbs inside me: allow, shine, keep, embrace, purify

And not these: criticize, restrain, restrict, shackle

These adjectives: inner, bright, clear, endless, deep, high

Not these: calculating, unnatural

These nouns: divinity, sky, ocean, mountain, harmony, all, everything

Not these: (Actually, I couldn’t find any)

***

Maybe I should do a content analysis of my heart.  How about strapping a recorder to me as I wander in the world or sit in meditation?  I wonder what would come up?  Well, I have a good idea of the top sellers:

Love, kindness, compassion, empathy, peace, integrity, generosity, humour, acceptance, spontaneity

As for the formerly strong but now middle of the road:

Fear, sadness for me, frustration, laziness, pride, competition, greed

And the ones that have faded away:

Antagonism, anger, guilt, depression, boredom, criticism, jealousy, pity, repression

Just me.  Nothing special

Today is Not Yesterday

How strange that yesterday I was in the space of letting go of all results, just doing things with no expectation of what would come next.  Not today.  This afternoon I wanted to break 1:00:00 on my time trial route.  I did that twice a few weeks ago but not even close since then.

I looked up at the trees from our family room and saw that there was no movement at the tops.  Wow.  Time on the bike without wind.  So I slapped on a funky cycling jersey composed of bones (some broken), adjusted my headband with a star symbol on it, and took off like a banshee (although not having ever met a banshee, I don’t really know what that’s like).

A section of Bostwick Road (as Jody and I say – “Home Road”) was resurfaced with dombind last week.  No more potholes.  Dombind is basically a layer of gravel with what I’d guess is tar underneath.  As car tires press the gravel into the tar, a somewhat smooth surface emerges after a month or two.  The last few rides I’ve started off so tentatively, afraid of spilling on the gravel with my skinny tires.  Not today.  I grunted up the slight slope outside our door, watching for any little ripple of gravel that might send me down but still giving ‘er.

Two minutes later I was on asphalt and pumping hard.  Previously I’d been careful to keep my heart rate at or below 145 beats per minute.  Moderation in all things, Bruce.  Not today.  Soon I was in the 150-155 range and I pretty much stayed there for the whole ride.

On the flat, I kept ta-pocketa in her highest gear and pulled up hard on the clipless pedals.  Typically on my route I’d say hello to various horses, runners and cows.  Not today.  Hardly saw the horses and I didn’t come upon any human beings.  If I had adjusted my handlebar mirror just so, I’d have no doubt seen a fully knitted brow and tiny slits of eyes, worlds away from the serenity that the bike can give.

I had to gear down on the hills but I kept up the intensity.  My heart rate monitor showed a pace that I guessed would drop me under an hour at the end.  “This” was fine.  If I produced “that” when I rolled back into our driveway – not fine.  No embracing all that the universe offers.  Not today.

I turned off Sunset Road onto Bostwick at about the 56 minute mark.  I was going to make it!  Halfway along, the dombind again.  I still kept the cadence up.  I can control ta-pocketa on this stuff.  Keep pushing.  A minute from home, there’s the top of a short rise … and what was parked there, taking up the entire right side of the road, was a delivery truck.  There’s no way some silly vehicle was going to stop me from fulfilling my glorious quest.  I pulled out to pass, straining to see any telltale gravel ripples.  Oh, how life is timing.  I was out in no man’s land on the left, and here comes a car climbing towards me.  I brake hard and start skidding to the left.  The driver brakes too.  Somehow I get my left foot down and avoid a tumble.  The driver was a neighbour, and we smile at each other as she drifts by.

Back on the go, ta-pocketa leading me home.  Slow down for the right turn off the gravel and into our driveway.  Pretty sudden stop near our front door.  Press the button on my heart rate monitor … 58:48.  Oh, what a good boy am I!

No placid Buddha face.  No shimmering down of sublime energy.  No peace.

Not today

Just Do It

To laugh often and much
To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children
To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends
To appreciate beauty
To find the best in others
To leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child
A garden patch, or a redeemed social condition
To know even one life has breathed easier because you lived

The last line.  Is that enough?  That at the end of my life, just one person would have been enhanced by my time on the planet?  What if I let this be okay, rather than indulging in grand fantasies about making a difference worldwide?

And then again … I wonder what freedom I’d let in if I completely let go of contributing to the lives of other people.  Experiencing no need to have any particular result show up in my life.  Perhaps I’ll do the experiment.

I could say goodbye to “Action > Result” and say hello to merely “Action”.  If my mind wasn’t being bothered with the ramifications of what I do or say, wouldn’t that free up a lot of energy?  And what would that look like?

Just love

Just smile

Just give

Just nurture

Just help

Just look

Just trust

Just meditate

Just empathize

Just write

Just kiss

Just caress

Just persevere

Just commit

Just initiate

Just forgive

Just adore

Just cherish

Just work

Just encourage

Just mourn

Just accept

Just giggle

Just include

Just enjoy

Just make love

Just empathize

Just lead

Just hold dear

Just do things

Just celebrate

Just thank

Just move

Just dance

Just cry

Just give

Just eat

Just walk

Just think

Just speak

Just rejoice

Just act

Just assist

Just buy

Just teach

Just create

Just reach out

Just listen

Just shine

Just live

Sweet Times

Satya gave me a massage yesterday afternoon.  She’s our massage therapist and has been rubbing Jody and me the right way for months.  I spent the whole hour reminiscing about my times on retreat at the Insight Meditation Society in Barre, Massachusetts.  I retraced everything right from the moment I kissed Jody goodbye and set off down the driveway in Hugo.  The hills of Richmond, Ontario, the bridge across the Welland Canal in Port Colborne, talking to the border guard in Buffalo, getting lost in Buffalo and asking for directions, the American flags hanging from homes in New York State, lunch at the little cafe in Seneca Falls, the gift shop in Skaneateles, the creeping vine on the power line over the road near Bridgewater, dinner at Babe Macaroni’s in Utica, phoning Jody from the classic old train station, walking in downtown Utica after dark, dreaming of tomorrow as I lay on my bed at the Red Roof Inn, breakie at Denny’s, getting lost in Albany and asking for directions, the steep climb through the woods to the Massachusetts border, the cutesy homes of North Adams, the view and conversation on the balcony of the Golden Eagle Restaurant with the Berkshire Mountains spread all around, the winding country roads leading southeast towards Barre, eating a Rocky Road waffle cone in a little downtown park, my first glimpse of the IMS retreat centre, walking up the driveway from the parking lot, being greeted by IMS volunteers, unpacking in my wee room, eating supper with 100 other retreatants at long tables and not knowing what to say, sitting for the first time in the meditation hall, doing walking meditation on the driveway, listening to the teachers, brewing a cup of tea and sitting on a bench outside with the stars overhead, walking to my room, lying down, the moment of sleep …

And a very large etcetera

At the end of my massage, I was warm and cozy, inside and out.  Such a beautiful thing – memories.  My head has been trained to stay in the here and now, and I know that’s wise.  To fall into the moment, knowing that whatever’s happening, on one level it’s all fine.  I know that there’s danger in leaning forward in life, trying to put pleasant boundaries on a totally mysterious future.  Or taking past experiences and trying to replicate them in the present.  Still …

I think I’ll always allow myself to relive precious moments from my history.  Why exclude anything?  My lips still smack when I think of artichoke dip and pita chips, the world’s most overflowing strawberry shortcake, and a glass or two of local beer at the Golden Eagle.  Yum.

Deluge

All Jody and I were doing was watching an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation on our laptop last night.  Captain Jean-Luc Picard was saying “Make it so” a lot.  It was fun.  I was vaguely aware that it had started raining, but so what?  No problemo.  As Jean-Luc and friends continued to battle the forces of evil in the universe, the vague morphed into the absolute.  The drops were beating on our home.

Neal, a friend who’s living with us, came by to say, rather anxiously, that the water in our sump pump hole was rising.  I let Jody deal with the Starship Enterprise and went downstairs.  This was about 10:30.  Our main sump pump and the backup one were going full tilt.  I knew we had a few 10-gallon pails so I gathered them up, took a small red container, and started bailing water out of the hole.  Sooner than I had hoped, they were full, and the holey water was continuing its upward journey.  Still, calm was I.  We have an four-foot-high garbage can in the basement which we use to store flour, rice and the like.  I gently removed the contents and plunked the can down beside the sump hole.  Slowly, slowly, I dipped my red friend into the water and deposited the results in the can.  No sooner said than done – the plastic brute was full to the rim … and the sump water was only a foot down from the level of the floor.

Okay, so now someone I know developed a slightly elevated heart beat.  I walked briskly through the basement and climbed the stairs into the garage, where I hoisted the super-industrial-sized can which we roll out to the road once a week.  Semi-ran downstairs and continued bailing.  Looked up at the tiny window and saw water streaming down from it, from shelf to shelf and then puddling on the floor.  Back to the sump hole – eight inches from Defcon One.

Well, what can I say about my brain?  Neal asked me about the portable submersible pump we had, and I had completely forgotten about it, choosing instead the “no cheese down that tunnel” route of continued container finding and inspired bailing.  I found the pump and Neal went in search of a long hose.  Soon we were all attached and had run the hose up the garage stairs and out onto the driveway.  So there were now three pumps in the hole.  To my horror, the water kept rising.  I looked up at the window and saw that the water level was halfway up it.  And slow tides were spreading out on the floor, leaking from our foundation in several spots.

So much for decorum – I ran up the stairs, onto the driveway, and around to the backyard, where I found our big green cart for garden debris and two flexible plastic tubs.  Like a runaway shopping cart driver, I plunged back to the house, somehow got the cart next to the hole, and bailed anew.  One inch below the floor … and then level.  Refusing to go with the flow, I kept finding space among the three pumps for my little red pail to fit, and gave ‘er.  Neal brought two more containers.  I looked around … and time stopped.  I had a moment of amused astonishment within the panic.  I saw all these cans, pails and carts surrounding me, each brimming with water.  The line on the window was two thirds up.  And peace drifted down upon me.

Maybe a minute after every single container we could find was full, I looked down at the hole and saw that the liquid had dropped half an inch below the floor.  By grace we are saved.

The level continued its slow decline, and soon Neal and I could put the portable pump into the pool residing in our rolling garbage can, gradually sucking it dry, before moving to the other vessels.  We set to with a wet-dry Shop-Vac and a mop, sucking up water, plunging the pump in, sucking some more, pumping some more, getting cardboard boxes off the floor, unplugging electronics, running around like crazy men.

We finished, in a manner of speaking, at 1:00 am.  Really not much damage – to our possessions, that is.  And actually no real damage to our souls.  We imperfect human beings did all that we could.  It was enough.  Good for us.

Clinging

I need this in order to be happy.  So I’ve told myself many times.  Two years ago, I sat down and made a list of supposedly necessary things.  Here it is:

Clinging

… to what I want people to say
… to what I don’t want people to say
… to what I want people to do
… to what I don’t want people to do
… to having people like me
… to having people love me
… to people not being angry with me
… to my body feeling fine
… to my pain disappearing
… to being thought of as smart in my job
… to not making mistakes in my job
… to not forgetting things
… to being mindful
… to being physically fit
… to going to the gym three times a week
… to riding my bike across Canada
… to being number one in someone’s eyes
… to spending time on retreat with a certain meditation teacher
… to being vast when I meditate
… to following a circular path during walking meditation instead of going back and forth
… to play time
… to other people saying “Hello”
… to one certain person
… to performing well sexually
… to knowing
… to catching green lights
… to having things be easy
… to making spiritual contact every day with someone
… to wakefulness
… to having a snow day
… to knowing what to do in every first aid situation
… to knowing how to do this, that and the other thing

***

And then there’s today.  Here’s what comes to mind as I sit here tapping on my keyboard:

Clinging

… to having Jody stay alive
… to not causing Jody pain when I inject her with Fragmin
… to cataloguing quotations that point to wisdom and publishing the results
… to going on a three month retreat at the Insight Meditation Society
… to learning the words and chords of beautiful songs
… to wearing funny t-shirts
… to creating batiks depicting people’s spiritual moments
… to weighing 165 lbs
… to climbing Mount Lineham again
… to being a special person
… to not participating in small talk discussions
… to always having someone in my life who sees me as number one
… to writing this blog
… to continuing to own my home
… to being kind
… to being compassionate
… to meditating
… to Moose Tracks ice cream
… to the people in my life whom I love
… to existing beyond this lifetime

***

Let it all go

Standing O

Sometime around 1980, I walked to the podium at the annual meeting of the Order of the Eastern Star in Edmonton, Alberta and talked to about 800 delegates about the need to rejuvenate the Star in order to attract younger members.  I received the only standing ovation of my life.

I was so scared on the way up and so shocked on the way back.  I did it.  And it definitely felt that a huge serving of well-being had been added to my life.  Decades later, I’m not so sure.  In 1980 and 2014, I was and am complete.  Perfectly okay.  Acknowledging the value of goals and achievement but not needing them (except when my wayward mind convinces me momentarily that I do).

Here’s another standing o and its accompanying ego rush:

He found that his heart was suddenly full of happiness and simple gratitude.  It was just good to find out you still had a heart, that the ordinary routine of ordinary days hadn’t worn it away.  But it was even better to find it could still speak through your mouth.

The applause started even before he finished his last sentence.  It swelled while he gathered up the few pages of text which Naomi had typed, and which she had spent the afternoon amending.

It rose to a crescendo as he sat down, bemused by the reaction … Then they started to rise to their feet, and he thought he must have spoken too long if they were that anxious to get out, but they went on applauding.

I don’t need multiple representatives of the human race to say “Bruce is good”.  I just need to keep expressing myself, letting the world’s reactions be as they are.

There’s another side to standing ovations, of course – me as an audience member either getting up at the end of a great performance or staying glued to my seat.  If the singer, actor or speaker truly deserves accolades at the end of their presentation, there comes that moment of choice for me.  If I want to stand up, do I wait for other folks to elevate before I do?  Do I glance furtively to the left and right to gauge how I should act?  Or am I the source of my behaviour?  This is what I choose in my better moments, occasionally suffering the embarrassment of rising and clapping before the person is done.  Oh well.  I can live with that.

It’s just such a pure experience to reveal myself to the assembled multitude
“Here I am.  Love me or loathe me.  It’s okay”
Naked visibility