When I first went to India in 1970, I went overland through Europe, Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, and Pakistan before arriving in India. I was eighteen years old, and the farthest I had ever been from my home in New York City was one family trip to Florida.
When I arrived at the banks of the Bosphorous River in Turkey, which "divides" Europe and Asia, I stood looking over toward Asia, wondering what it would bring, wondering what it would be like. I remember feeling a sense of awe, openness, and adventure. Standing on the bank of that river, I had no idea that the people and cultures and spiritual traditions of Asia would become the center of my life. I only knew that I was looking for a greater happiness and I was willing to open to whatever might come. In meditation, too, we journey to discover many things. It is an inner adventure.
In Burma, there is a teaching story that is told about a hunter who goes into the forest to try to capture a bird. He may wander for a long time in the forest and, in the end, may not capture the bird. But that is all right, because in all that wandering, he has learned the ways of the forest.
It is just like that for us in meditation. We may have the idea that there is something we would like to capture, perhaps something we can show off. But any meditation experience we can show off doesn't matter. What matters is that we are open to learning the ways of the forest, the ways of the body and the mind. What matters is that we learn how to wander, how to explore, how to make this journey of discovery. To learn how to have wonder at the changing array of our own experiences. That means there is no particular experience that is “good”, while the rest are considered inferior. It’s all “good”, in that we can learn from everything.
This week we focus on our emotional landscape. Observing thoughts and feelings without clinging or condemning, we learn to have a different relationship to them, whether they are painful or pleasant. Our work is to learn to bring awareness, balance and compassion to whatever we observe.
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A timeless teaching...
Sharon talks about learning the way of the forest, learning the way of the body, learning the way of the mind. A part of that learning has been handed down to us as a timeless teaching from Buddha 2500 years ago, from Sharon Salzberg over the last 3 to 4 decades, and from a victim of ALS in a recent poem she left behind. Some lines from her poem read like this:
"Isn't it always a question of holding on
or letting go?
Of gauging the waters’ pull
against our need to anchor fast?"
The poet who wrote these lines died during our Meditation Challenge.
But in reflecting on her words, it really is about anchoring fast to our past, isn't it...or letting go and being free at last.
The choice is ours to make.
Thank you, Sharon, for your gentle encouragement to "Start again, and again, and again". The starting over gives us ample opportunities to let go, let go, let go.
letting go
Thank you for sharing the words of the poem. I am hoping to love myself with such compassion in the anchoring so at some point i feel loved enough to let go.
Day 16: Couples Meditation
Tonight we meditated on "Transitions."
At first, I was brought immediately to my most current transition, away from a friend that has caused me much trauma. I was playing out the conversation. One again. And thought, "I'm done with this." I want to see what more there is. I know I have much more than this re-run."
Almost immediately after that, I was brought to my mother and her transition from happy, married woman with 3 kids to a divorcee. A very unhappy divorcee. For more than 30 years, my mother has not dealt with this transition. It filled her with anger and fear that has only worsened over the years.
As I thought about my mother's transition, my legs, which were firmly placed on the floor in front of me, grew heavy, so heavy that they actually hurt. I was locked, stuck here and could not move my painful legs. I wanted the pain to go away, but then realized that I should stay with it, feel the pain, learn what it felt like to feel my mother's pain from this transition. I stayed with the pain for a long time, even though it really, really hurt. I so wanted to move my legs. Finally, I did. I shifted them and relieved this pain, but only to have my legs immediately feel stuck again.
Fortunately, then I felt this deep sensation on my cheek, then in my head, and a sense of almost euphoria for being able to release some of the pain of my mother's transition that I held so tightly within my own body all of these years.
For my husband, he thought about all of the transitions he has been through in his life, how many there actually were! He lined them all up in his meditation, from when he was young, to present day and noticed how they just kept recurring. Upon reflection afterwards, he was reminded once again that "The only constant is change."
Letting Go
I remind myself often to let go of expectations in meditation; at this point, feeling very positive to be fulfilling the commitment to sit/walk/engage in mindful activity each day.
Letting go of judging is such
Letting go of judging is such a challenge for me, although I usually bear the brunt of it myself. Thank you for these metaphors.
Katie