Choosing the direction we will take

Lunar New Year celebration

Happy Lunar New Year! February 1st marks the beginning of the Year of the Tiger. I have such fond memories of the extraordinary New Year celebrations when I lived in Shanghai: spectacular fireworks rang out at midnight around the city as far as the eye could see; on New Year’s Day there were lion dances and parades, delicious smells wafting from every kitchen I passed. Lunar New Year celebrations last for 15 days, culminating in the Lantern Festival on the first full moon of the New Year. Thinking back to those days makes me smile and brings a lightness to my heart that I’ve not felt in a while.

If there’s one thing I know to be true about myself, it’s that I love to travel and explore. I long to immerse myself in new places and cultures. Exploring somewhere new makes my spirit soar, it makes my soul sing.

Last year presented me with a number of challenges. The last time I shared my musings with you, I wrote about some unexpected health problems, and these remain my constant companion. In the past, I could always rely on travel to boost my spirits, to lift whatever weight I’d been carrying physically, mentally, and emotionally. While I gratefully received rejuvenation from some camping and a cottage sojourn, there remained a heaviness I simply couldn’t shake. I know I’m far from alone in this feeling: throughout the pandemic, a mental health crisis has been growing, and it’s shown us how vitally important it is to take care of ourselves, to prioritise our health and wellbeing if we hope to be of any use to our loved ones, and to the world around us.

Sometimes the way forward is to expand and grow, and sometimes what we really need is to retreat inside our shells to rest and regroup.  My heart told me to choose the latter path. For much of the last year, I’ve focused my attention on my small community of dedicated students, offering nourishing practices and weekly writings that resonated with my own journey and experience. As we welcome this New Year, I thought I’d share some of these musings from the last few months.

On gratitude:

“Taking time throughout the day to pause and reflect on the blessings in your life serves as a powerful reminder that, no matter what trouble might be brewing, we are indeed blessed.  Even on those days when challenges are many and blessings seem few, we can give thanks simply for waking up when so many others around the world did not. That’s not to say that gratitude asks us to forget about our pain and suffering; however, it can help us temper that suffering with goodness, with joy, with kindness and love.”

On the importance of self-care:

“Rest should be a topic of great importance at any time, but I think the stress and uncertainty of the last 2 years has brought it screaming to the forefront as part of the larger discussion of mental health and self-care.  For too long we’ve written off our self-care needs as indulgence and luxury.  We couldn’t be further from the truth. I see the effects of stress and strain in those I love; I see their burnout clear as day. I feel it in myself too and I know that the only way I can provide the support my loved ones need is if I take care of my own health and wellbeing.  It’s as simple as that – simple, yes, but not always easy… just like our journey with yoga and mindfulness.”

On our need to be ‘productive’:

“Productivity is something that’s often on our minds, whether consciously or unconsciously. As human beings, we’ve been conditioned to believe that we must always be doing something, and that our doing must be leading us towards a goal or achievement. For me, an example that comes to mind is the internal chatter that occurs when I’m feeling under the weather: I have to convince myself to rest, I have to talk myself into slowing down and setting aside the to-do list, and I try to catch myself each time that negative little voice inside says, ‘don’t stop now, push through, it’s not that bad, you should get more done.

Why is rest not seen as productive? Why is sitting on my back step watching the sunrise not productive? Why is answering an email tomorrow so I can go for a walk in the sunshine today not productive? Much as we try to fight it, we are mortal beings who live a finite amount of time. We have no idea when the end will come, but when it does, I suspect most of us will still have a few things left on our to-do lists. So how can we learn to accept that fact and enjoy the time we have while we have it?”

On finding contentment:

“…a teaching I recently enjoyed from Frank Ostaseski [is to] welcome everything, push away nothing.  Welcome everything, push away nothing.  Like many mindfulness teachings, it sounds so simple, yet I think we can all agree that it’s anything but easy. It’s human nature to gravitate towards what feels good and recoil from what doesn’t. We seek out pleasure and avoid pain and suffering at all costs. In asana practice, we can easily settle into a pose that feels good and familiar, but what about the poses that challenge us, that feel uncomfortable, that bring us to our edge physically, mentally, or emotionally? How do we find the same sense of ease and contentment in those poses? Welcome everything, push away nothing.” 

On World Kindness Day:

“When someone shows us kindness, we feel our spirits lift, and we’re much more inclined to share that feeling with others we encounter. Someone returns an item that fell out of your pocket and you’re surprised, grateful, happy; in that moment you become fully present and aware of the kindness another has shown you. That warm feeling inside comes from a little shot of serotonin, oxytocin, and endorphins – the body’s natural mood boosters – and it stays with you as you continue on your way, perhaps opening a door for someone or helping them carry a heavy package to their car. As you pass the kindness on, the warm feeling in you continues because sharing kindness is as good for us as receiving it.  Start today with a little act of kindness towards yourself and see how it makes you feel. Then as you move through the day and encounter others, share a smile, offer a compliment, hold open a door, buy someone a coffee. As Aesop wrote: ‘No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted’.”

On how we choose to move through the world:

“We learn myriad lessons on the mat. New insights appear each time we arrive, each time we pay attention, each time we open our awareness and allow the lessons to penetrate the layers of bias and expectation and resistance we’ve built up over time. As human beings it is our nature to form opinions, to make judgments, to set goals. Yet our practice teaches us over and over again that everything changes, nothing remains as it is, no two breaths or sensations or moments in time are the same. Each time we exhale, we expect that an inhale will follow – but are we guaranteed that next inhale? Are we guaranteed the next moment in time…or only this one?

…a favourite quote, one I’ve shared with you many times over the years: ‘Happiness is not given to us, nor is misery imposed. At every moment we are at a crossroads and must choose the direction we will take.’ ~Matthieu Ricard

While so much in life is beyond our control, we can choose how we respond to what arises. We can choose to be open-minded and curious; we can choose to be angry and sullen; we can choose to accept and learn from challenges; we can choose to resist and shout at the rain. It’s all a matter of perspective and how we choose to navigate the changing world around us.”

~~~

Maybe a few of my words resonate with you, reflecting some of your own experiences of the past year. How are you choosing to move through the world? Is this a time when it feels good to expand and grow, or is your heart asking you to slow down, to rest, to stop some of the doing and allow yourself to simply be?

Last week the world lost one of its shining lights, the wise and beautiful soul of Thich Nhat Hanh. Often called the father of mindfulness, his book Peace is Every Step was my first introduction to this practice, my first step on a lifelong journey exploring his teachings of compassion and love for all beings. With a new year upon us, I leave you with these wise words from Thich Nhat Hanh:

“Waking up this morning, I smile. Twenty-four brand new hours are before me. I vow to live fully each moment, and to look at all beings with eyes of compassion.”

Begin again

Crater Lake, Oregon
Crater Lake, Oregon

Another year comes to a close, offering us an opportunity for reflection. Perhaps more than most in recent memory, we’ll be glad to bid this year farewell. Its challenges were felt across the globe, and while cheers of “We’re all in this together” drew us closer with a sense of community and connection, we also witnessed deep division, mistrust, and isolation that threatened to pull us farther apart. Whatever this year held for each of us, may we find it in our hearts to look back with gratitude for its blessings, and to acknowledge the lessons we learned from its challenges.

Many of us might be looking eagerly to the new year as a time to start over, a clean slate – and given the way 2020 has unfolded, who could blame us. However, one of the most important lessons we learn in mindfulness practice is that we can always begin again – anytime, anywhere, right-here-now. We don’t need a new year, a new month, a new season; every day is new, every hour is new, every moment is a new opportunity to release what’s no longer serving us and begin again with an open heart and a fresh perspective.

Thich Nhat Hanh wrote: “Waking up this morning, I smile. Twenty-four brand new hours are before me. I vow to live fully each moment, and to look at all beings with eyes of compassion.” When we’re experiencing challenges – whether they’re physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual – it can sometimes feel as though there’s no relief in sight, no light at the end of the tunnel. But what if relief is waiting on the next breath? In the next moment? What if relief is found by waking up each morning and choosing to live fully each moment with kindness and compassion, beginning with ourselves?

Winter is a season of darkness, cold, stillness, and quietude. If we release our tendency toward constant busyness and activity, we can embrace the introspective energy of winter and nourish ourselves the way Mother Nature intended. We can welcome stillness, spend time in quiet reflection, withdraw from the cacophony around us to listen deeply within. With loving awareness, we can acknowledge our fears and anxiety, welcoming them as warmly as we do our joy. As we listen with kind attention to our inner wisdom, to our deepest self, our fears loosen their grip and we make our way to a state of ease and grace. Each day a challenge might present itself, and each day we can choose to respond to it with that same loving awareness and compassion, creating our own light at the end of the tunnel as we begin again. It’s a continual process: renewing our compassion for ourselves and others, forgiving ourselves and others when we or they falter, and then starting anew…again, and again, and again.

As we say goodbye to the year that was and welcome the year that will be, I wish you joy and good health, with deepest gratitude for your support. I leave you with the poetic wisdom of John O’Donohue.

For a New Beginning – by John O’Donohue

In out of the way places of the heart
Where your thoughts never think to wander
This beginning has been quietly forming
Waiting until you were ready to emerge.

For a long time it has watched your desire
Feeling the emptiness grow inside you
Noticing how you willed yourself on
Still unable to leave what you had outgrown.

It watched you play with the seduction of safety
And the grey promises that sameness whispered
Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent
Wondered would you always live like this.

Then the delight, when your courage kindled,
And out you stepped onto new ground,
Your eyes young again with energy and dream
A path of plenitude opening before you.

Though your destination is not clear
You can trust the promise of this opening;
Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning
That is one with your life’s desire.

Awaken your spirit to adventure
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk
Soon you will be home in a new rhythm
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.

Listening deeply

Listening to nature in Algonquin Park

It’s been a while since I shared my thoughts with you in this space – apologies for my absence! These are strange times. Although most often what I’ve been feeling is grateful – grateful that I’m healthy and so is my family, grateful that I have a roof over my head, grateful that my husband is still working when so many have lost their jobs – I have experienced a range of other emotions over the last few months. Anxiety. Frustration. Uncertainty. Disappointment. Boredom. Stir-craziness (perhaps that’s not really an emotion…). I’ve had insomnia. I’ve felt my energy levels wax and wane. However, perhaps more important than the particular range of feelings and emotions experienced is the fact that I’ve listened deeply to what my body has been telling me each step along the way, and I’ve tried to respond with kindness, compassion and acceptance. At the end of the day, that’s all we can do. Change is inevitable. Nothing is certain. We have this very moment in which we find ourselves and we can choose to befriend it and experience it fully, or we can struggle against the inevitable and lose out on the simple joys that this moment might bring.

More and more I recognise the importance of listening deeply within. The answers we seek usually exist somewhere inside of us, we need only be open to what our inner wisdom has to share. I’ve heard quite a number of people observe that these months of lockdown and restrictions have afforded them a rare opportunity to slow down and take stock. Most of the time we focus our attention outside of ourselves, sometimes because that’s what’s required – when we’re at work, caring for others, driving a car – and sometimes because it’s easier to distract ourselves with the external to avoid dealing with the tough questions that might come up when we look within. As our activities have been necessarily restricted to protect our health and the health of our community, we’ve found ourselves with fewer external time demands and more opportunities to reflect on what really matters.

Beyond the devastating loss of life the world is grappling with each day, I’ve been saddened by the less visible casualties as well – seeing small businesses go under, people losing their homes and their livelihoods, being cast into an uncertain future. I’ve also been deeply touched as I read about random acts of kindness, small and large – a reminder that human beings are inherently good, and that a crisis can bring out the best in us. In my personal experience over these last months, I’ve seen a bit of the best and the worst coming out in people, organisations and institutions around me. The actions of those in the ‘worst’ category have enabled me to make healthier decisions about whom I trust and support in the future, while those in the ‘best’ have reinforced my trust in them and strengthened my commitment moving forward. As you look back over the year so far, what has warmed your heart in humanity, and what has given you pause and perhaps made you question or re-evaluate something about yourself and your life?

It’s good to ask ourselves tough questions. It’s good to evaluate our habits and behaviours, our beliefs and expectations. We’re not static beings – we are constantly changing and evolving, learning and unlearning, exploring and discovering new things about ourselves and the world around us. If we pay attention, if we remain open to all of these new teachings and experiences, we can then take what we’ve learned and allow it to shape the way we grow. It can make us stronger and more resilient in the face of challenge; it can make us kinder and more compassionate in the face of suffering and injustice; it can bring out the very best in us, our innate goodness and wisdom, to lead us humbly forward on the uncertain path ahead.

Anytime, Anywhere

Castelo dos Mouros ~ Sintra, Portugal

I am deeply grateful for my yoga and meditation practice. For many years my practice has helped me navigate choppy seas, find calm amidst the chaos, weather storms of all manner. My practice serves me well during times of joy and triumph too, of course; however, when the path ahead is murky or filled with obstacles, my practice gives me the strength to take the next step and move forward.

We find ourselves at such a place on our path now. We strain to see what lies ahead, but we are venturing into new territory and we do not know exactly where this path will lead. Now more than ever I think we should turn to our practice to calm our worries, soothe our spirits, nourish our minds and bodies, so that we may be strong and resilient in the face of unknown challenges to come.

The beautiful thing about mindfulness practices like yoga and meditation is that we can invite them into our daily life anytime, anywhere. Much as we might wish we could be sitting by a quiet lakeside to meditate, or practicing yoga asana overlooking the ocean beneath swaying palms, more often than not we are simply going about our daily routine at home and work. When we consider creating a home practice, we might be discouraged by thinking that we need to have a dedicated space or special equipment or props. Again, while it would be wonderful to have an entire room for our practice and a collection of blocks and bolsters, blankets and zafus, we can use the space and the everyday items we have on hand anywhere we go.

Need to create a supportive seat for meditation? Sit at the edge of a chair so your feet can rest fully on the floor, or use a couch cushion or folded towel or blanket to sit on, perhaps with your back against a wall. Tuck yourself into an out-of-the-way corner if you can, and simply connect with what arises in your experience moment by moment – the sounds in the room, the temperature of the air on your skin, the sensations in your body, the rise and fall of your breath. You can set a timer on your phone and place it just out of sight, or count your inhales and exhales from one to 30 and back down again, or perhaps simply sit and breathe and notice for any period of time that resonates with you. No special tools, equipment or room needed – just an open mind and a willingness to welcome your experience, whatever it may be.

If you practice yoga asana, there are plenty of items around the house or hotel room we can use to support our practice. Need a mat? Try using a large bath or beach towel. Need some support beneath your seat for a forward fold? A firm cushion or folded blanket or towel is ideal. Want to recline on a bolster for some gentle heart opening and restoration? Use a couch cushion or two, wrap a bed pillow in a large towel, or fold several towels or blankets in long rectangles and stack them with a little staggered edge to support your lower back as you recline. In fact, towels and blankets can be rolled and folded in so many ways, they are the perfect all-purpose prop for any practice. And of course, there are plenty of ways to invite mindful movement into your body without the need for any props at all.

Building a portable practice might seem daunting at first, but it is an opportunity to be creative, to explore different options and ideas, to listen to the needs of your mind and body and respond with just the right practice for that moment. Simply standing in Mountain Pose, inhaling to extend the arms overhead and exhaling to release them by your sides a few times can invigorate the mind and body and ground you in the present moment. Sometimes finding a comfortable seat for meditation can be challenging, especially if you are experiencing pain, an injury or illness; instead, try lying on your back with knees bent and soles of the feet on the floor, inviting a sense of deep rest and ease as you connect with your breath and the sensations that arise within. Each of us has unique needs and they are changing continually. To truly serve those needs, we must stay connected to the wisdom that lies within us and respond with kindness, compassion and acceptance.

With the COVID-19 pandemic, the advice we are hearing on a daily basis is that to stay healthy, we must stay home, as much as we can. Joining a community meditation or attending a public yoga class is simply not an option at the moment. There is so much uncertainty, so much fear and confusion, so much stress and anxiety as we grapple with this unprecedented crisis, yet within our practice there is hope and healing. Through our practice, we can find a place of calm amidst the chaos, we can navigate our way to a safe harbour, we can harness the power of mindful awareness and compassion and lovingkindness to come home to ourselves. Let this be an opportunity to create and discover new ways to explore mindfulness in your everyday life, no matter where you find yourself.

Take refuge in your practice and let it help you cultivate peace and equanimity as we weather this storm together. Stay healthy, stay safe, stay home.

Reflecting back to guide us forward

Autumn sky reflections

A new year and a new decade is upon us. The end of the calendar year is a natural time to reflect back on what was and to look forward with hope and anticipation to what might lie ahead. In the Northern Hemisphere, the end of the year coincides with the beginning of winter, a season that encourages us to draw our focus inward, to observe and connect with our inner landscape and reflect upon what we find.

Amid the celebration and festivity, take some time to consider not only the year that has come to a close, but the last ten years as well. What events stand out for you? What are you most proud of? What did you learn that has changed the way you think, feel, live your daily life? What were the triumphs in those ten years, and what were the challenges? What beliefs, teachings, and practices served you well, and which ones might be limiting your ability to move forward on your path?

The only constant in life is change. At a glance it might seem like we are the same person we were a decade ago, but when we look closer the differences are clear. It would be easy to allow our inner monologue to deafen us with criticism over our perceived failures, our losses, the summits we did not climb, the goals we did not achieve. However, what we must do instead is listen to our deepest self – that wise little voice within us, so often shouted down by the external world and our busy thinking mind. That voice will remind us that we are extraordinary because after ten years we are still alive. We are older and wiser and more beautiful each day. Every triumph and tragedy has taught us something about ourselves and made us more whole, more human. We can look back at the changes we have experienced and welcome them with an open heart, offering forgiveness and compassion for the suffering we might have caused ourselves or others.

On December 22nd, spiritual leader Ram Dass left his broken body to go home. His dear friend Jack Kornfield said, “Home is not somewhere else. It is here, in life and death, in the eternal dance of consciousness, weaving together form and the formless mystery from which it all comes. Ram Dass is the vastness reminding us that in the end, there is only love.” In 1997 Ram Dass suffered a stroke and, rather than being discouraged by its debilitating effects, he used that monumental change to embody his teachings, to continue to share his love and compassion and wisdom with the world. If change is the one constant in life, death is the one inevitability. Ram Dass saw death simply as a change to prepare for, to make peace with, to welcome and accept like any other. May his teachings live on and flourish in the millions of hearts he touched.

Ram Dass – Be Here Now

Our true nature

Shades of autumn

In recent weeks, I have found myself gazing inward – a natural tendency at this time of year, with shorter days and colder temperatures.  Autumn is a time for introspection and reflection, a time for nourishing ourselves and shoring up our inner resources so that we are strong and resilient for the long, cold winter ahead. In Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), the autumn season is associated with the lung and large intestine organ systems, and the energy of the lungs is said to be one of “letting go”, releasing what no longer serves or resonates with us on our current path.  When we reflect within, we can observe habits and patterns, thoughts and emotions, beliefs and expectations that are no longer of benefit, and that might be limiting our growth or even causing us harm. Our task then becomes allowing ourselves to let them go, to release ourselves from the suffering they cause – and this can be easier said than done.

I have always had a great deal of difficulty with the so-called “business of yoga”.  Self-promotion runs counter to who I am as a person. I have never been on Facebook.  I know almost nothing of Twitter (except its dubious reputation as the primary platform for the Tweeter-in-Chief south of the border). I created an Instagram account simply to stay in closer touch with family that was far away, and later it enabled me to remain connected with friends I left behind as I moved on to a new city (though how ‘connected’ anyone can really be through Instagram could be the subject of an entire post on its own).  For me, yoga is about compassion, connection, truthfulness, authenticity – every day embodying the Yamas and Niyamas that are the foundation of our practice.  I feel as though much of the business of yoga completely contradicts the practice of yoga, and I find it increasingly challenging to reconcile this within myself.

Lately, my inward reflection and observation has revealed some deeply conflicted feelings – a crisis of faith, if you will.  Around me I see business practices that inflict harm rather than do good, that limit access to this practice instead of expanding it, that show immense respect for profits and none at all for the human contribution without which those profits would not be earned.  I find it amusing, though disheartening, that I have been discriminated against because I did not do my training at a particular school, because I do not have an established following of students I would bring to a new studio, because I do not post photos of myself on Instagram doing complicated poses, because I am not the right age for the studio’s chosen demographic (this one is my favourite!).  None of these things has anything to do with the practice of yoga or the transmission of its teachings, yet here they are, front and centre in what yoga has become in many places in the West. 

The conflict that I feel over what I see around me has manifested itself in my body, and it is time for me to pay attention.  If we take the time to listen, our body will tell us when we are not living in harmony with our own true nature, our Svadharma.  From a TCM perspective, if our lung and large intestine energy is deficient, we might experience respiratory issues like colds and flu, digestive upset, skin rashes; emotionally we might find ourselves experiencing extended bouts of sadness, muddled thinking, and a sense of disconnection.  The inner resources we need to strengthen will instead be depleted and our immune function will weaken.  If we are paying attention, our body will tell us that what we need is rest, acknowledging the longer nights of autumn by getting more sleep; we must nourish ourselves with seasonal foods; we must spend time in introspection, drawing our attention inward to reflect on the changing nature of our needs, determining what we are ready to release so that we may make space for new ideas and new possibilities. This is not always an easy process, but it is a necessary one if we are to move forward in good health and flourish on the path ahead.

Take a moment now to pause, to reflect, to listen. What is your body trying to tell you? Can you respond with kindness and compassion? Can you acknowledge that there may be things in your life, in your way of thinking and your way of doing, that might not serve you as well as they once did?  Pausing in meditative contemplation will not give us all the answers we want in one sitting, but we can remind ourselves that there is innate wisdom within us, that the answers are there if we can be patient in our search.  As Osho tells us, “Truth is not something outside to be discovered, it is something inside to be realised.”  And as Jack Kornfield advises, “In the end, just three things matter: how well we have lived, how well we have loved, how well we have learned to let go.” Perhaps it is in letting go that we remove the barriers keeping us separated from the truth.  Perhaps by letting go of things like fear and frustration and disillusionment, we can release ourselves from their suffering and become free to live our own true nature.

Season of the heart

Waterlilies in a Japanese garden

Summer has arrived! If you live in the Northern Hemisphere, June 21st marked the first day of summer. According to Traditional Chinese Medicine, the season of summer is associated with the Heart and Small Intestine. It is a season of decidedly Yang energy when we are often more active and engaged, travelling and exploring, spending time outdoors. In spring, we make plans, we plant seeds and put down roots, and when summer comes we see our gardens grow and flourish. Summer is an opportunity to live from the heart, to play with our edges and explore outside our comfort zone.

For the last few weeks I have been absent from this space – my apologies! I have been busy making plans of my own, planting and tending to seeds that are very soon to blossom. The changing seasons are natural times of transition for us, and with the arrival of summer I am transitioning to a new home. I am not moving to a new city this time, only to the other side of my current one – though in a city like Toronto, moving to the other side of town can almost feel that way, as this is a city of diverse neighbourhoods, each with its own unique and wonderful qualities.

We are generally creatures of habit. We enjoy our routines, our familiar patterns, our favourite people and places and things. When we are presented with a transition – either by Mother Nature with our changing seasons, by our own choices and actions, or through unexpected developments in our life – we can choose to view it as an opportunity and embrace the possibilities it may bring. For many people, the arrival of spring is an opportunity to do some ‘spring cleaning’, clearing out the unwanted, unused, unnecessary things that we have collected. We might do this in our physical environment by deep cleaning our homes, giving old clothes and items we no longer need to charities so that others may benefit from them. We can also do some spring cleaning in our inner environment, releasing old judgments, beliefs, expectations, habits; we let go of what no longer serves us so that we can make space instead for things that nourish and inspire us.

If spring is a season of clearing out the old, summer is a season to welcome what is new. What new ideas, activities, and healthy habits can you invite into your daily life this summer? What new places can you explore, even in your own town or neighbourhood? Though sometimes it may feel like we are unable to change, like changing our familiar routines and patterns would be impossibly challenging, humans are strong and resilient beings and we are capable of much more than we think. The idea of stepping outside our comfort zone might be intimidating, but it is the way we grow and learn and flourish in this life. (I touched on the benefits of exploring outside our comfort zone in an earlier post and shared a wonderful little graphic and one of my favourite quotes from Mark Twain. Check it out here.)

So often we make our decisions based entirely on what our mind tells us is the right thing to do. What about our heart? It is within our heart that we connect to our intuition; it is within our heart that we find our wisest, truest self. This truest self is Atman, our essential being, our higher consciousness. Atman is timeless and ageless, the universal self that never changes and is unaffected by the material world. When we are guided by this deep inner wisdom instead of by the expectations and judgments of the external world, we cannot take a wrong step. When we listen to our heart, we can move freely, confidently, open and receptive to all that awaits us on our journey.

As we move into summer, let this be a time to nourish your heart and heed its advice. Let yourself be guided by the wisdom of your intuition. As Rumi said, “I have been a seeker and I still am but I stopped asking the books and the stars. I started listening to the teaching of my soul.” May we all be so wise and forge a deep, abiding connection to the wisdom that lies within.

Mary Oliver, 1935-2019

The first time I heard a poem by Mary Oliver was during Savasana in a yoga class in San Francisco. I was immediately enamoured and sought out her works to explore them further. Her words inspired me, spoke to me in places hidden deep within. Her reverence and abiding love for the natural world mirrored the supreme peace and calm that arose in me when surrounded by forest, mountains, ocean, stream. They say that a picture is worth a thousand words and that can most certainly be true, but so too can a few choice words touch our hearts and give rise to a thousand cherished images within.

On January 17th, 2019, the world lost a much beloved literary voice. At the age of 83, Mary Oliver had enchanted us with her poetry and prose for more than 50 years. As a small gesture of respect and gratitude for all that she has given us, I dedicated my class on Friday to her memory and shared several works with my students – some had heard of her, some had not, and all left with new warmth in their hearts. As Mary said in her poem Mysteries, Yes, “…people come, from delight or the scars of damage, to the comfort of a poem.”

To choose a single favourite from among her poems would be like choosing a favourite star in the sky. Instead, I take inspiration from last night’s full moon, the Wolf moon, and share with you Mary’s poem of the same name.

Wolf Moon ~ Mary Oliver

Now is the season
of hungry mice,
cold rabbits,
lean owls
hunkering with their lamp-eyes
in the leafless lanes
in the needled dark;
now is the season
when the kittle fox
comes to town
in the blue valley
of early morning;
now is the season
of iron rivers,
bloody crossings,
flaring winds,
birds frozen
in their tents of weeds,
their music spent
and blown like smoke
to the stone of the sky;
now is the season
of the hunter Death;
with his belt of knives,
his black snowshoes,
he means to cleanse
the earth of fat;
his grey shadows
are out and running - under
the moon, the pines,
down snow-filled trails they carry
the red whips of their music,
their footfalls quick as hammers,
from cabin to cabin,
from bed to bed,
from dreamer to dreamer.

A balance of light & dark

When we assign labels or judgments to our feelings and experiences, we run the risk of diminishing what they have to teach us. Our natural inclination is to crave what feels ‘good’ and is deemed ‘positive’ by those around us, and we avoid what feels ‘bad’ and might be viewed as ‘negative’.  However, by only courting what is good and striving to ignore what is bad, could we not be depriving ourselves of fully half our life experiences? If we shun the dark, can we ever truly appreciate the light?

Buddhist teacher Pema Chödrön reminds us that “Nothing ever goes away until it has taught us what we need to know.” We can try to hide from our fear, bury our anxiety, ignore our distress, but until we have acknowledged their lessons and allowed them to penetrate deep within, we will never be free of them. We will encounter them again and again on our path, sometimes in different shapes, with different faces, yet still they stem from the same roots. To shine a light on them, we must use our mindful awareness to look within, to reach into the darkness of our despair or uncertainty, our anger or fear, and allow ourselves to experience them fully. We open ourselves to the darkness or discomfort without judgment, without attachment, with a deep sense of self-compassion, and we listen to what these experiences are trying to teach us.

There is a reason we begin our meditation studies with awareness of the breath: it is the gateway between our external experience of the world around us and the inner landscape where our true and wisest self lies.  The breath lets us connect to our physical self in a simple, non-threatening way; it connects us to the familiar external world and the way it tastes, smells and feels, moment by moment.  We then begin to follow the breath as it moves within the body and we attune to the physical sensations we encounter there – the lungs, ribs and belly expanding and softening, the way the air feels as it moves through the nostrils and the throat.  Sitting in silent contemplation of the breath, the subtle beauty of the body rising and falling, enables us to connect to the present moment in a tangible way, and it provides an anchor that grounds us in the present and brings us back again and again as our attention drifts.  From this grounded place, we can then choose to open our awareness to the less tangible, to the ever-changing stream of thoughts and emotions that arise in each moment.  It is here that we are often most inclined to judge and label: welcoming happiness and pushing away sorrow, embracing the light as we run from the dark.

Psychoanalyst Carl Jung sagely observed that, “Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word happy would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness. It is far better to take things as they come along with patience and equanimity.” What if instead of labeling happiness as good and sadness as bad, we simply accept them for what they are: feelings and experiences, in a lifelong journey of feelings and experiences? Perhaps if we can notice when we label and judge, we can begin to acknowledge that it serves no useful purpose. Perhaps if we let go of labels and judgments when they arise, we can instead choose to sit with experiences exactly as they are, opening up to their lessons as a guiding light from within.

Why are we thankful?

I recently read about something that resonated with me: the idea of conscious gratitude (thank you author Danielle LaPorte).  I often speak of the benefit and power of practicing gratitude, especially in times of challenge and duress.  However, simply giving thanks for everything in a general sense runs the risk of glossing over why (and whether) we are thankful, as well as what lessons we learned and/or benefits we reaped from it.

The term ‘spiritual bypass’ was coined in the 1980s by Buddhist teacher and psychotherapist John Welwood.  Spiritual bypassing occurs when we use spiritual practices to avoid facing unresolved issues, emotions, or situations.  An example of this would be to say that because you like who you are today and where you are on your path, you must be thankful for all that has come before.  At first glance this sounds perfectly okay, and it is in line with what any number of self-help books and articles might recommend, but what happens when we dig below the surface?  What happens when we sit with our experience in mindful meditation and physical or emotional pain from a past event returns?

In our mindfulness practice we seek to rest our awareness in the present moment and experience all that arises with a sense of equanimity.  We cultivate the ability to become comfortable with the uncomfortable; we build our inner strength and resilience to weather storms that arise within, be they physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual.  However, is weathering a storm the same as being grateful for it?  Do we really need to give thanks for the lightning strike that cripples us, or do we instead use the tools of our practice to simply accept the strike and its effects? We learn many lessons from the challenges in our life, and we can certainly be grateful for those lessons, but we must also acknowledge and accept where they came from – glossing over a painful experience with a blanket ‘thank-you’ does not necessarily address the havoc it may have wrought upon us physically or emotionally, and that havoc might resurface again and again in different ways if we do not acknowledge the root cause.

The example of spiritual bypass I offered above – if I am content with where my path has taken me thus far, I must give thanks for all that brought me here – is one I have used myself, and it may be a familiar refrain for you as well.  However, my practice has taught me that I do not need to be grateful for something to accept it as part of my experience.  I do not believe that a loyal employee must give thanks to the employer who lays them off, just as I would never suggest that a shooting victim must give thanks for being shot.  To me, this kind of giving thanks indiscriminately is practicing gratitude on auto-pilot, without any mindful awareness, disconnected from our intuition.  That being said, even in the midst of challenge and suffering, there will always remain things in our life for which we can give thanks, including the teachings we uncovered through our suffering.  This is conscious gratitude.  We pay attention to our experience and use the tools of our practice to discern what we have lost, what we have gained, what we have learned; we acknowledge and accept all of it, the full catastrophe, as part of our experience, and then we decide what we are truly grateful for and we give thanks.