Tag Archives: Reverence

Turner Brown

Back in the 1990’s, Jody and I bought a light brown stuffed bear, about 18 inches tall.  Jody named him Turner Brown.  He has sat in our bedroom for many years.  After Jody died, I got closer to Turner.  I’m sad to admit that the two of us had often gone weeks between our chats.  No longer, though.  Turner and I talk every day, just like Jody and I do.

A few weeks ago, I went on a 9-day meditation retreat in Massachusetts.  More recently, I spent four days in Belleville.  There was no question each time … Turner Brown was coming with me.  I packed my suitcase, carefully placing my friend on his back on top of the clothes, and shut the fabric cover.  I prayed that Turner could breathe okay.  It turns out that he was fine.  There was a little bump pressing out from the suitcase.  I don’t think anybody noticed.

In my room in Barre, Turner sat on a chair.  In Belleville, I created a place of honour for him on a chest-of-drawers.  In our bedroom, it’s a chair again.  Every morning, I sit in front of Turner and make eye contact.  He seems comfortable with that.  I put my hand on his fuzzy head and say, “Turner Brown … … All beings everywhere.”  And I think of all of us, how fragile we are, how we need love.  Then I take my right hand and draw the outside of my fingers down his left cheek.  It’s one of my favourite gestures.  He gets it.  I hope all people do.

Krishna Das

When I was telling you about qi gong yesterday, and the beautiful male voice that sent me crying, I didn’t mention that the singer was Krishna Das.  I wonder why.  He’s an American who met with a guru in India back in the 1970’s and was overwhelmed with the love glowing from him.  Soon thereafter, Jeffrey Kagel became Krishna Das.  After his guru died, Krishna felt alone and lost in the world, and descended through the realms of depression and drug use.

Eventually the love that is Krishna Das, and is all of us, emerged and greeted the world through the singing of kirtan – call-and-response chanting in Sanskrit that speaks the names of God.

When I got back from Massachusetts, I watched Krishna on YouTube and was transported again deep within my heart.  I ordered CDs and a DVD from Amazon and they arrived today.  If you would like to experience the Spirit of the man, I’d recommend that you listen to “Sri Argala Stotram / Show Me Love” on YouTube.  It’s on one of my new CDs and I played it on our stereo system a few minutes ago.  The piece artfully blends the Hindu words with “I Want To Know What Love Is” by Foreigner.

Listening to this is not just blissing out.  As Krishna’s voice goes deep, I feel the love, not only for Jody, but for all of us.  Our struggles, our imperfections, our kindnesses.  All worthy of love.  I’ve just finished melting again.  Lots of tears.  And I think of the lyrics:

I want to know what love is
I want you to show me
I want to feel what love is
I know you can show me

Christine was a woman I met before the silent meditation retreat started, and we talked after it was over.  She was grasping for what the retreat meant to her, and I was doing the same.  I found myself saying, for the first time, “I come to retreats to love people.  That’s all.”  I’d never been brave enough to tell anyone.  And it’s true.  When I hear the women’s voices repeat “I want you to show me,” I know that I have a part to play in showing love on Earth.  I’m not sure how that will unfold over time, but unfold it shall.  A good thing to do in life, I’d say.

Bowing

I enjoy bowing to the statue of the Buddha, with palms together and a light heart.  The Buddha isn’t a god.  He was a human being who lived 2600 years ago, and he had some good ideas about leading a life.  When I bow to him, I say inside, “All beings everywhere”.  That’s whom I want to contribute to.  At times, other words have bubbled up.  “The God in me bows to the God in you.”  “Love bowing to love”.  In the meditation hall in Barre, Massachusetts, the Buddha sits at the front of the room.  As I enter the hall for a sitting, with 100 other yogis, I pause and bow.  It feels right.

Between the coat room and the meditation hall is a walking room, where we practice walking meditation.  The Insight Meditation Society building used to be a Catholic seminary, I believe, and there are two lovely stained glass windows of Jesus in the walking room.  At previous meditation retreats, and at this recent one, I came to stop in front of one of those windows and bow.  I sometimes worried about what other retreatants thought of this behaviour, but more and more I didn’t care.  I imagine they think that I’m bowing to Jesus.  I’m not.

The stained glass shows Jesus sitting at a table, with the disciple John to his left.  John has his right hand on Jesus’ right shoulder, and his left hand on his left forearm.  John’s head is tucked into the hollow by Jesus’ neck.  And the look on John’s face is one of supreme peace.  I’m bowing to John’s love.  And as I do, I silently say, “Love them all.  Light the world.”  And that is what I’d like to do.

Eight months ago, I wrote a blog post called “Ego Bowing”, in which I described walking a three-mile loop road at IMS and bowing to every person I met, making eye contact.  When I walked the road this time, something inside told me not to bow and not to look.  So I didn’t.  I let everyone have their space, to be with themselves, not needing to respond to another.  That too felt right.

May I bow inwardly to each one of us whom I encounter on our dear planet.